Page 62 of Savage Assassin

The snake goes still in the mud, and I see Elena collapse forward, all the blood draining out of her face.

As I break into a run once more, the only thing in my mind is making sure that she’s safe.

Elena

I’m so stunned I can’t move, my ears ringing from the gunshots as I lie there shaking. Dimly, I see Levin running towards me, shoving his gun back into his belt as he leans down to scoop me up into his arms. I curl against his chest, trembling all over as he starts to carry me away from the snake’s corpse, one hand holding my head against his shoulder as he walks.

“You’re alright now,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing against my hair. “You’re fine.”

I’m not sure that’s entirely true. My ankle is throbbing, pain shooting up my leg, and I wonder faintly if it’s broken.

Levin scoops up the bag from where he dropped it, shouldering it as he keeps me carefully balanced in his arms, walking as quickly as he can back towards our makeshift campsite.

He doesn’t say a word until we’re back. He carries me to the edge of the water, setting me down on the sand as he helps me rinse off the mud, and then he picks me up again, taking me back to the blankets.

Once I’m settled, he sinks into the sand with a long sigh, looking at me with one half-raised eyebrow. “What happened, Elena?”

Guilt swamps me as I see the expression on his face. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to wander off so far. I got distracted, and before I knew it–”

“I know,” he says gently. “Nothing we can do about it now. What happened?”

I swallow hard, my stomach knotting all over again at the memory. “I saw the snake in a tree,” I whisper, feeling faintly sick. “It slithered out and came after me. I thought I could outrun it–it was so big–and maybe I could have, but I tripped when I tried to run. I thought it was going to get me–crush me–”

Nausea clogs my throat at the thought, and I have to stop, reaching for one of the water bottles. Levin rubs my back with one hand, in slow circles until I can speak again.

“Is it broken?” I ask faintly, nodding down at my ankle.

“I’m not sure.” He shifts, moving towards my feet as he gently picks my leg up and sets it in his lap. “This might hurt a little,” he warns as he turns my leg to one side, gently prodding at the swelling flesh around my ankle, pressing his fingers up my foot and wiggling my toes until he sees what hurts and what doesn’t. He’s right that itdoeshurt–I cry out despite myself when he touches the area around my ankle bone, and I can’t help another low moan of pain when he tries to rotate my foot a little.

“I don’t think it’s broken,” Levin says finally, carefully setting my leg back down on the blanket. “I can’t be sure, obviously–we’d have to go to a doctor for that. But I’m fairly certain. We still need to try to keep it stable.”

He leans over, rummaging in the bag. “There are medical supplies in here–I think there were some bandages.”

It takes a moment, but he fishes out a thick bandage that looks like it might work to stabilize my injury. “This won’t feel good either,” he warns as he props my leg up in his lap again. “But it should feel a little better after this.”

I bite my lip as he winds the bandage around my foot and ankle, not wanting to make him feel worse than he already does. I can tell he doesn’t enjoy the fact that I’m in pain, his touch as careful and soothing as it can be as he wraps up the injury.

“There,” Levin says finally, helping me readjust when he’s done. “I’m going back up to the trees to find the snake,” he says, after a moment’s hesitation. “I know it doesn’t sound very good, but that’s food. It’ll help us put off going through what’s left of the rations.”

Privately, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to stomach that, but I nod. I know it’s what makes sense, even if I don’t have the slightest idea how I’m going to eat it.

“Try to sleep a little,” Levin suggests. “If you can.”

I’m not sure how I’m going to manage that, either, but I roll onto my good side, grateful at least that the twisted ankle is on the same side as the still-healing cut from the plane crash. The sand feels even more lumpy and uncomfortable than usual, and it’s too hot for a blanket, so I roll it up and tuck it under my head as a makeshift pillow.

I didn’t think I could fall asleep, but I must have, because when I open my eyes again, Levin is sitting by the fire, and I see a thick shadow further off down the beach that I know, with a shudder down my spine, must be the corpse of the snake.

“I thought you wouldn’t want to see it too close,” Levin explains, when he sees where my gaze goes. “I’ll see about cutting it up and cooking it as soon as I can.”

I nod, feeling that sick lump in my throat again.You’ll eat it if you get hungry enough,I tell myself, sitting up with my leg stretched out in front of me. But as the night goes on, and I go to sleep to the smell of Levin butchering and cooking it, I’m not so sure that’s true.

—

I sleep through most of the next day, the pain from my ankle keeping me up most of the night and leaving me exhausted. Levin wakes me up to feed me a bit of a ration pouch and give me some water before I fall asleep again, waking up at twilight to see him fiddling with the radio.

“Any luck?” I ask faintly, and he looks up with a tense expression on his face. I can tell he doesn’t want to answer.

“No,” he says finally, setting it aside. “Nothing.”

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