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Kimmy was tending to Claire, who she’d practically swaddled in all the blankets we had. Claire was still asleep, and I figured that that was probably bad news. But everything had been so bad lately that it was starting to lose its shock value; it all blended together in a fucked-up collage of misery. I was weirdly numb.

Asha emerged from the trees, followed by Dom and another man with short golden hair that I assumed was Leo. Like Dom, he was unusually muscular and wore all black. He carried a black medical bag like Kimmy’s, but bigger. Dom was carrying what looked like a makeshift stretcher, with handles at each end for carrying someone.

I kept my rifle pointed at the ground, but they still stiffened when they saw it.

“This is Leo,” Asha said, eyes glued to my gun. “The doctor I promised.”

“I figured,” I replied, then turned to him. “If you can help my wife, I’d be grateful. But if this is some kind of trap, I won’t hesitate. Just so you know.”

To his credit, Leo nodded. “Understood. Where is she?”

“Here,” Kimmy called from her spot at Claire’s side, and Leo jogged over. He dropped on Claire’s other side. I followed,

“What’s her condition?” Leo asked as he snapped open his bag.

“Traumatic pneumothorax, induced by a broken rib,” Kimmy answered. “There’s blood and fluid trapped in the pleural space, and she has a fever. I think she’s developing pneumonia.”

He did a double take. “You have medical training, then?”

“Yes.”

Leo got out a stethoscope, and Kimmy moved the blankets aside so he could listen to Claire’s heart and lungs. He frowned deeply as he moved it to different areas, which was probably a bad sign, then carefully felt over Claire’s ribcage. Claire groaned in pain, and I squeezed my eyes shut against the sound.

“Two, possibly three, broken ribs,” he muttered, then pulled out a thermometer. He popped it into Claire’s mouth, and his frown deepened as it read 103.8. “Her fever is very high.”

“No shit,” I scoffed, but he ignored me and turned back to Kimmy.

“Best thing to do,” he said, “would be to administer antibiotics and insert a chest tube to remove the fluid.”

“She already knew that,” I said, a little irritated. “The problem is, we can’t do either of those things with what we’ve got.”

Leo hummed thoughtfully. “Have you performed a thoracostomy before?”

“No,” Kimmy admitted. “I’ve seen it done, though.”

“Good,” he replied. “Then you can assist when we get back to Ashburn.”

“Wait, what?” I asked as he pulled out a syringe and a bottle out of his bag.

“Well, we can’t perform surgery out here, can we?” Leo said with a touch of impatience. “We need a sterile environment, and she’ll be hooked up to drainage for a while. I’ve prepped the infirmary back at Ashburn, so it’ll be ready when we get back.”

“Have you done it before?” Kimmy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Naturally,” Leo said with a shrug. He started preparing the syringe, filling it with clear liquid from the bottle. “It’s a straightforward procedure. My main worry is that fever. I’m going to give her a shot of penicillin now, in the hope that it’ll bring it down ASAP.”

“Let Kimmy do it,” I ordered. “Let her look over your equipment.”

Leo gave me a hard look. “I don’t think you understand how serious—”

“I understand fine,” I shot back. “This is my wife, and I met you five seconds ago. Let Kimmy look over everything before you give Claire anything.”

“Leo,” Asha broke in for the first time, several steps away, “you can’t blame them. They don’t trust my word.”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Kimmy said waspishly. “Can’t imagine what could’ve happened to make us feel that way.”

“Kim,” Asha said, sounding pained. My eyes widened. “I’m sorry.”

Kimmy shot her a vicious look, but I saw the beginnings of tears there. “It doesn’t matter. Just give me the damn syringe.”