Shock, some part of me realized. A numbness had overtaken my entire being.
Boden rolled to his side, searching out the disappearing snowmobile. “We stay low. Crawl towards the house just in case they have another hidey-hole.”
My stomach pitched at the thought, but I nodded. I didn’t miss how Boden positioned himself between me and the disappearing shooter. The action made my eyes sting and my throat burn.
We stayed quiet as we worked our way across the front yard to the porch steps. Boden cast one more look in the direction the snowmobile had vanished in and then grabbed my arm. “Go.” He pushed me towards the front door, hurrying behind.
I yanked open the door, rushing inside.
“Close all the curtains,” Boden ordered as he locked the doors behind us.
Running to window after window, I shut out any way for light or eyes to get in. The dogs whined, sensing our anxiety. Boden jogged into the bedrooms pulling the curtains there, as well. When he came out, his gaze swept over me. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
I nodded. “You?”
“I tweaked my shoulder when I fell. But I’m fine.”
Moving towards him, I pulled off my gloves. “Let’s have a look.”
I unzipped his jacket. Boden winced as I tugged it off, and I froze. Blood soaked the sleeve of his sweatshirt. “Boden…”
“Shit.”
Blood roared in my ears. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Someone had shot Boden. That thought spurred me into action, guiding him towards the couch. “Sit. Don’t move.”
“I’ll be fine. Just a nick.”
“Don’t move,” I ordered, then pulled off my own coat. I hurried into my bathroom. I swore I’d seen a first-aid kit in there. Pulling things out from under the sink, I finally landed on the red nylon kit that readFirst Aid. I grabbed it and hurried back out to the living room.
Boden looked a bit pale. My stomach cramped and twisted. “I’m going to cut your sweatshirt and t-shirt off so we don’t move your shoulder.”
“Damn. I liked this sweatshirt.”
“Pretty sure your blood already ruined it.”
“Fair point.”
I found a pair of scissors in the kit and began cutting down the middle of the fabric. Boden’s tee and sweatshirt opened like a jacket. “Lean forward.”
He did as instructed. I was as gentle as possible, tugging the fabric free, but I didn’t miss his wince. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
As soon as the clothing was off, I zeroed in on the wound. It was a deep gash, but I told myself over and over:Not fatal, not fatal. Unless he got some awful infection, and we couldn’t get off this damn mountain.
I pawed through the kit, pulling out gloves, a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide, gauze, and tape. As I studied the wound, I worried it wasn’t enough. “Hold on.”
Running to the kitchen, I pulled open drawer after drawer until I found the one everyone had in their kitchen. The depository of random stuff. I pawed through item after item, breathing a sigh of relief when my hand closed around a tube of super glue.
I hurried back to Boden, and he eyed me carefully. “You’re not planning on taking my entire arm, are you?”
I wanted to laugh, but I couldn’t get my throat to make the sound. I held up the small tube. “Nope. I’m going to glue you back together.”
“Are you for real right now?”
I nodded. “Doctors use medical-grade glue all the time, but this will have to work for now until we can get you checked out.”
“If I end up with some weird blood poisoning, you’d better play nursemaid.”