Page 1 of Saved By the Surly Medic

1

JONAH

The forest is perfect today.

Life just getting on with the business of growing. Everything is quiet, except for the tiny rustles of birds, squirrels, and the odd croak of a frog.

My boots trudge almost silently along Maple Trail. It's my turn to check the paths just before sunset to make sure nobody gets caught out in the woods after dark.

So far I've been pretty lucky, and the only mishaps on my watch have been teenagers with a twisted ankle, or couples who desperately realized they needed some bug spray at twilight. Ironic that I'm the one with the most medical training, yet I rarely come across anyone in the woods who really requires it.

As the sun begins to dip over the mountain peak, the long shadows become deeper, stretching out as they turn the greens to gray. The perfect stillness of the forest is broken when I reach the river. The light babble of the stream is a quiet companion as I continue walking.

The sound of the water grows louder as I near the rapids. The path takes a turn away from them, yet the water can still be heard bouncing across a half mile of jagged rock. There are several steep drops, which is why we've installed garish yellow signs beside the river at this point: "Rapids ahead — no boating past this point."

Personally, I wanted the sign to read, "Deadly rapids ahead. Choppy water and rocks will kill you. Don't be stupid." But I was outvoted.

I pause to watch the waves dance over a large rock right at the bend.

Then I hear a terrified squeal just up ahead.

My feet take me at top speed around the corner, where I see a young woman clutching the far side of the rock.

"Hold on," I bellow, making her flinch a bit in surprise. "I'm here to help."

She's facing the rock, but nods slightly, her voice drifting up faintly as she mutters something I can't make out.

She's shaking. I'm not surprised: at this time of year, the water is cold. I need to get her out of there before she loses all her strength.

I scan the edge of the river. This is the worst possible spot for me to try to get in. Thick spiky brush grows along one edge, and the only break in the scrub has some jagged rocks that might as well be knife blades.

Shit.

I have two choices: pull her up over the rock she's hanging onto and haul her out or tell her to let go and hope that she's able to grasp onto a couple of logs fifty feet downriver.

I carefully study the water patterns for a few seconds, then decide the current is too strong for the second option after yesterday's rain. Even if she's a good swimmer, there's maybe only a fifty-fifty shot of her getting close enough to the logs to grab on. They’re probably slippery. And who knows what her grip strength is like.

Assessing the odds is part of what I do. She's already probably weakened from being so cold, and she's not exactly one of my former soldiers who signed up for danger.

It's option one. I'll have to pull her up over the rock.

Flinging my jacket to the ground, I wade into the river, then climb up over the rock. Reaching down, I grab her firmly by the forearm. She looks up at me…

And I'm instantly transported.

Her luminous light gray eyes are otherworldly. I'd say she's beautiful…except the word beautiful isn't strong or powerful enough. She's like a storybook goddess brought to life.

Inhaling sharply, I give my head a shake. I've been trained to ignore distractions. Focus, man.

"It's okay. I've got you. We have two choices," I tell her, forcing a smile to put her at ease and trying not to let my teeth chatter. "If I let you go, you'll have to twist, and then swim really hard and fast for those logs so that you don't go any further down river to the rapids."

I'm not going to mention that she could be torn apart by the ferocious rocks. She's trembling enough already.

"I'm not very strong," she mutters, teeth rattling.

"In that case, I'm just going to have to pull you up over this rock. Okay?"

"Okay. Thank you."

---