My own heart starts beating again. Elbowing Pyro in the gut, he frees me. I fall to my knees beside her.
“Pull yourself together,” Rusty snarls, then shouts, “Anyone got water?”
Ink has. Seems he carries just about everything in those saddlebags of his. Rusty sits himself behind her, raising her head, and dribbles water into her mouth. He removes his bandana and wets it, then drapes it over her forehead.
“Are the keys in the fuckin’ car?” Rusty yells. “Or can you get it started?”
Assuming we’re going to be driving her to a hospital, I stand, ready to pick her up.
“I’ll give it a try.” Pyro runs to it.
“Get the air conditioning started.”
“What air conditioning? It hasn’t got any.”
“Fuck. We need to cool her.” Rusty starts lifting her tee-shirt. When I growl, he demands. “Take her fuckin’ jeans off, Pal. What’s worth more, her dignity or her life?”
Put like that, there’s no choice. As I pull down her jeans, they’re stiff with dried urine. What the fuck has she been through? I’d have done anything to save her from this. If she survives I’ll spend my life making sure nothing else ever hurts her. When she’s lying in just her bra and panties, my brothers stand around, shading her from the sun. Tee-shirts come off, Rusty squirts water over her body, and the clothing becomes makeshift fans.
It seems like forever, but suddenly there’s a little sound from her lips. Her eyes flicker, then open. Rusty sits her up more. “Take a drink, sweetheart. But slowly, just a sip.” He holds a bottle to her lips. Dropping to my knees I crawl over to her, take hold of her hand and squeeze it.
“Pal?” She says croakily.
“You’re going to be fine,” I tell her, with a cautious glance at Rusty who nods, and confirms it.
“Yeah, sweetheart. We got you now. You’re going to be fine.”