She nearly collapsed.
Doc caught her shoulder.
“Easy.”
“Don't touch me.”
“I’m a paramedic.”
That was only partly true.
Doc had retired from emergency medical services three years earlier, but his hands still moved with the calm certainty of someone who had spent decades being useful while everyone else panicked.
He checked Rachel’s pulse.
“Fast.”
He placed the back of his hand against her forehead.
“She's burning.”
Rachel tried to pull away.
“We need to go.”
Doc looked at her.
“Yes.”
“You need a hospital.”
“No hospital.”
“Ma’am—”
“I can't afford it.”
Caleb looked down.
Bear stood beside the open door.
“We'll worry about that later.”
Rachel looked at him.
Something strange passed across her face.
Not recognition.
Something close.
“You.”
Bear frowned.
“Do I know you?”
Rachel stared longer.
Then shook her head.
“No.”
Her voice became weaker.
“I thought…”
She stopped.
Doc looked at Bear.
“She's dehydrated.”
Rachel tried standing.
Her knees buckled.
Bear caught her before she hit the gravel.
Caleb screamed.
“I've got her,” Bear said.
Rachel’s eyes closed.
That ended the argument.
Bear carried her to the pickup.
Caleb climbed in beside her.
Doc began cooling her with water and damp towels while another biker poured two gallons of gasoline into the Chevrolet.
Rico tried the ignition.
The engine turned.
Then coughed.
Then started.
He listened.
“Fuel wasn’t the only problem.”
Bear looked over.
“What?”
“Battery cable's loose.”
“Fix it.”
They left one biker with the Chevrolet.
Everyone else headed toward Flagstaff Medical Center.
Caleb sat beside his mother with both hands wrapped around hers.
He had stopped crying.
That worried Bear more than tears would have.
Children were supposed to cry when frightened.
Silence meant Caleb had moved beyond frightened into something heavier.
Bear drove.
Doc kept checking Rachel.
“Kid.”
Caleb looked at him.
“What?”
“Your mom's still breathing.”
Caleb nodded.
“I know.”
“You did the right thing finding help.”
Caleb looked toward the red gas can now sitting on the pickup floor.
“I stole.”
Bear glanced over.
“You attempted theft.”
“That's worse.”
“No.”
Bear looked at the highway.
“It is technically less successful.”
Doc groaned.
“Excellent moral education.”
Bear shrugged.
Caleb almost smiled.
Almost.
Then Rachel murmured something.
Caleb leaned closer.
“What?”
Her eyes remained closed.
One word escaped.
“Evan.”
Bear’s hands tightened around the steering wheel.
Doc heard.
This time he said nothing.
Rachel had a severe kidney infection.
The infection had spread enough to explain the fever, vomiting, dehydration, and confusion.
The emergency physician told Bear something that made his stomach turn.
Another twelve hours without treatment could have become dangerous.
Caleb heard only part of that.
Enough.