Morgan had learned basic first aid back in boarding school. Everyone had, as part of their community service requirement. He’d thought it was stupid, but now he found himself more grateful than ever for Ball Academy’s health instructor’s dry and calm instructions. He knew he wasn’t supposed to move someone with an injury.

Unfortunately, he also knew he couldn’t just leave Jamie where he was. Something else might land on him. He might end up drowning, the way this storm was going. A well-meaning rescuer might not see him in the mud and drive right over him.

Morgan wasn’t strong enough to just lift him, not by a long shot. Maybe back in high school, when Morgan had been on the lacrosse team, he might have been able to pull it off, but he wasn’t that guy anymore. It had been years since he’d had a proper meal.

The most he could do was to grab Jamie under the arms, put his back into it, and hope he didn’t do any worse damage.

He dragged him back into the house. The movement should have helped jog Jamie awake, but Jamie stayed firmly unconscious. That wasn’t a good sign.

Jamie was still bleeding pretty badly, too, and that was no good either. Morgan grabbed his own t-shirt from the ground and turned it into a makeshift bandage. It wasn’t a sterile dressing, but Morgan hadn’t had anything that clean for a very long time.

The house shook again and something gave a mighty creak. They couldn’t stay here. Sure, the place had survived whatever the desert could throw at it, but all of those storms had worn away at the house, too.

The prior inhabitants had almost certainly evacuated during storms like this. The fact that Jamie was alive today was a testament to that fact.

Of course, now Morgan was going to have to evacuate with an injured man. Should be fun, right?

One of the upstairs rooms had a bed frame left in it. Morgan scavenged the rails to make a kind of travois. He’d read about those once before, about a million years ago, in a volume about the American frontier.

The book had been jingoistic and not very good, but at least he’d gotten something useful out of it. He put the rails together in a V shape as best he could, and then he lashed the sleeping bag to the rails to make a kind of sled. He secured Jamie to the sled with socks and hoped like hell one of the churches in town had a donation box, because these were the only clothes he had.

Jamie was worth it. Good God, he was worth it. Still, no one liked a naked guy running through town. He steeled himself for the worst, covered Jamie with his own jacket, and headed out into the night.

Thank God no one was coming up here tonight. Morgan wouldn’t be able to see them until they were right on top of him, and maybe not even then. They might not be able to see him either, except for the reflection of headlights off of his pale chest.

He was out here only in his pants and his boots, and he was shivering before he even got off of the property. The wind didn’t come from a consistent direction, which meant sometimes it gave him a nasty shove down the mountain, and sometimes he had to walk into it.

Fuck, this sucked. Complaining about it, though, even in his own head, wouldn’t get him anywhere. The only thing that would was putting one foot in front of the other.

And the ground, the ground itself was a horror show. No wonder Jamie’s car couldn’t make it up to the house. It had probably gotten stuck in the mud. How Morgan was going to get it out was another matter altogether, but he’d panic about that later. For now, he had to worry about getting them down to the car.

It was only half a mile, but it felt insurmountable. Every step made him sink into the mud down to his ankles.

He slipped and fell, dragging his shin along the ground. Morgan cried out, but his cry was lost to the howling wind. Somehow, he’d kept Jamie upright. He staggered back to his feet, but it was a nightmare. His back and legs screamed as he struggled to rise.

He surged forward, teeth chattering, and made it another few steps. Carrying Jamie with the travois had sounded easy when he’d been in the house, and it was certainly easier than carrying him without it.

It had its own challenges, though. Sometimes the end got stuck in the mud. The driving rain made it hard for Morgan to keep his grip. So did the cold wind.

A half-mile walk shouldn’t have taken him more than six minutes, tops. Tonight, if he had to guess, it probably took him half an hour. It could have been worse, though. All he had to do was to keep going straight.

The road, up to this point, didn’t deviate. Morgan couldn’t get lost, even with visibility as bad as it was. He couldn’t control his shakes by the time he saw the Audi in the distance, but he finally got there.

He leaned the travois against the small SUV. “I’m going to need your keys, buddy,” he stammered out, rubbing his hands against his arms in a frantic attempt to get warm. “I’m not getting fresh with you.”

He stuck his hand into one of Jamie’s pockets, and then the other. No keys. Shit.

And wasn’t this just the way life went these days? Morgan couldn’t catch a break to save his life. No way could he leave Jamie here while he ran back up the hill.

The keys were probably in the bag Jamie had brought, or maybe they’d fallen out of his pocket while they were getting rid of their pants earlier. Whatever the reason, Morgan couldn’t afford to take the time to go back and find them. That would probably be hours, and that was time they didn’t have.

He tried the door, and of course it was locked. He looked down at Jamie, who continued to stare at the inside of his eyelids. “You couldn’t have made it just a little bit easier for me, buddy?”

He laughed at himself. No, of course Jamie couldn’t have made it easier for him. Jamie hadn’t shown up with the intention of getting knocked out by a tackle from the guy he was sleeping with, for fuck’s sake.

Morgan used his dying phone as a flashlight and looked for something he could use. “Sorry, Jamie. Hopefully your insurance will cover it as an act of God or something. Or theft. Whichever gives you the best payout.”

He grabbed a good-sized rock off the ground and walked over to the passenger side. If he tried to do this on the driver’s side, he’d probably wind up covering Jamie in broken glass, and that was the last thing the poor guy needed.

He turned his face away, protected his eyes as best he could, and smashed the passenger’s side window with the rock. It took a couple of tries, since the glass was made of pretty strong material intended to withstand much greater forces than a rock.

Little glass shards flew up and cut Morgan’s bare arm and chest, but he didn’t feel it. He was already too cold and numb.

Now that he had access to the car, he could open the doors. He unlocked them all and hurried to get Jamie out of the rain. It wasn’t easy.

Morgan’s fingers weren’t working right, thanks to the cold, and of course Jamie was even heavier wet than he had been dry. He decided to load Jamie into the back seat, to keep him out of harm’s way from the broken window and anything that might come through it.

That part was just physical, and it was easy enough, except for the lifting. He strapped Jamie in and crawled into the back of the vehicle. Here, thank God, he found a treasure trove. There were blankets he could use to warm poor Jamie up, and a whole Vehicle Emergency Kit he could use for the next part of his plan.

Morgan didn’t find a spare key. He didn’t expect to find one, because who kept a spare key in their car? He did, on the other hand, find a set of jumper cables. That was going to be enough for him.

He grabbed a flashlight and an umbrella. Hopefully, whatever had caused the car to break down had resolved itself by now, or had resolved itself enough to get them back to civilization.

Morgan popped the hood and used the umbrella to minimize the water coming into the engine bay. Then he sent up a prayer to a god he wasn’t sure he believed in anymore.

He wasn’t a car thief. That was specialized work, especially for modern cars, and Morgan just didn’t have the training.

He’d met a few car thieves, though. He’d seen the tricks of the trade, learned how it was done. He hadn’t taken it further, because it was highly risky work and he didn’t have the contacts, but he knew the theory. He just hadn’t ever put it into practice.

If he didn’t, there was a good chance that he and Jamie could die out here. And if he screwed it up, there was a good chance he’d electrocute himself, but at least Jamie had clean, dry blankets.

He attached one end of the jumper cable to the red coil wire, and one to the positive battery terminal. He ran back over to the car to see if the dash and electronics had come online. When he saw that they had, he almost let out a whoop of relief. So far, so good.

Now he rummaged through the tool kit to find a flat-blade screwdriver. He put it into the top center of the steering column and looked for the locking pin. Once he found it, he pushed it away from the steering wheel.

Inside, he went for the flashlight again and looked for the starter solenoid. When he connected it to the positive battery terminal, the car started.

Morgan let out a sob. He’d done it. He’d accomplished something, successfully, for the first time in years. He put his head down on the steering wheel and thanked any deities or benevolent spirits that might have been listening, and then he picked himself up to close the hood and cover the broken window.

He used the soggy sleeping bag. It would keep out the worst of the mess, and hopefully keep some of the heat in. He turned up the heater as high as it could go and eased the car out of its parking spot.

Whatever had been wrong with the Audi before, it hadn’t been the mud. It didn’t want to go forward, but it had no difficulties turning around and going back down the mountain. Morgan had to shift into a lower gear to keep from losing control, something he’d never done in an automatic before, but that was part of the fun of off-roading, wasn’t it?

Driving slowly was a necessity. He had no way of knowing who or what else was out here. There were probably animals, and possibly animals large enough to damage the Audi.

There might be other people on the road, too. Who knew why they’d be out and about on a night like this? No one would have expected to find him out there, dragging a guy on a sled, but he hadn’t had much choice.

Maybe someone else would be out, fleeing death or worse. The last thing Morgan wanted was to hurt someone.

He didn’t get onto pavement for another hour, but he didn’t hit anything or anyone, either. He still kept a careful eye on the road for pedestrians and critters, but down here it wasn’t as bad. For one thing, the land was flatter. He wasn’t as worried that the road was going to slide away, taking them with it.

That didn’t mean that the storm hadn’t done plenty of damage. Morgan had to go around a ten-block neighborhood where the power was out, because an electrical pole had been knocked into a house. Authorities had the neighborhood blocked off. He didn’t stop to ask for details. He passed a couple of houses that had debris blown through their windows, too.

All in all, though, Culvertown seemed to be the same as it ever was. He drove through some streets with water up to the curb, but there wasn’t flooding worse than that. Chances were that it would all drain within an hour of the rain stopping.

He finally saw the big red cross, marked in light, that indicated the hospital. He aimed for it and hoped for the best. He was still shaking, and Jamie hadn’t moved. Christ, what if he’d made Jamie worse by moving him? What if Jamie had bled out? What if Jamie had died?

He couldn’t think like that. He had to focus, put one foot in front of the other. Morgan had done what he had to in order to try to get them both to safety. He held onto that, like a lifeline.

Finally, he pulled the Audi into the emergency entrance. Five or six signs all said “no stopping.” He stopped anyway.

When a security guard came to yell at him, he threw open the door to show Jamie’s unconscious form. “I can’t get him in there on my own,” he chattered.

The security guard looked at Jamie, and then back up at Morgan. “I’ll get a chair,” he said. “And maybe, I guess, don’t do it again?”

Morgan laughed a little hysterically and helped get Jamie into a wheelchair. He didn’t care that some other security guard was parking the Audi. It would probably have to be towed anyway. It wasn’t Morgan’s problem anymore.

He held the back of Jamie’s coat with one hand and tried to steer the wheelchair with the other as he lurched into the emergency room.

The triage nurse looked up at them both. She looked bored. Morgan could see that it was only about two o’clock in the morning. How was that possible?

She had a half-full waiting room, and a cup of coffee in her hand. “Welcome to Culver General, how can I — what in the name of God is on his head?”

Morgan tried to get his chattering teeth under control. “We got caught out in the storm. He hit his head. I didn’t have any bandages. All I had was my shirt.”

“So, it’s a head injury?” The nurse seemed oblivious to the way people were staring. Morgan wished he could be, too. “How long has he been unconscious for?”

Morgan wiped at his face. He couldn’t feel his hand; he was too cold. “I don’t know. At least two hours.”

“Okay, we’re going to get him into a treatment bay right away. Are you willing to give his information?”

“Everything I can.” Morgan swayed on his feet. He usually hated the smell of hospitals, but his nose was too stuffed up for him to care right now. It was probably a blessing.

The nurse waved to someone, and the door opened to reveal two men with a gurney. They lifted Jamie onto it like it was nothing, and Morgan followed them back into the next part of the ER.

They had a little more privacy here. It wasn’t a lot, but it was something. A nurse in bright pink scrubs walked in, carrying a tablet. “Okay. I just need to get some information from you about our guest. Do you know his name?”

Morgan giggled. He knew it was inappropriate, but he was just so tired at this point, and everything felt so numb. “His name is Jamie Roscoe. He has a cousin who works here, Dr. Phillip Roscoe.”

The nurse gasped. “Oh my God — his family’s been looking for him! I’ll page Dr. Roscoe right away.” She rushed out into the maelstrom of the greater ER, leaving Morgan alone with Jamie’s inert form.

Morgan took Jamie’s hand. “Well,” he murmured. “I got you here, buddy. I’m sorry about your car.” He bent down and touched his lips to Jamie’s knuckles. “It’s been a ride, huh?” Christ, he was too cold to even cry.

He shouldn’t want to cry. He’d won. He’d gotten Jamie to safety. There wasn’t anything sad about this moment. He’d done what he’d set out to do, and that was enough.

So why was he sitting here feeling like the world was going to end?

Oh, right. In the privacy of the mountain house, they’d been two men away from their families’ expectations. Morgan still had that freedom, in the worst possible sense of the term.

Jamie, on the other hand … Morgan had brought him to a hospital named after family, staffed by family, in a town run by family and named for family. Even if Jamie made a perfectly full recovery, he wouldn’t be able to keep Morgan with him. He wouldn’t even be able to see Morgan again.

Someone ripped the curtains apart. Morgan jumped up, turned around, and almost fell over. A nurse accompanying the intruder caught him before he could embarrass himself even further, and she frowned at Morgan. “Has anyone triaged you yet, sir? You’re awfully cold.”

The other person turned out to be Dr. Phil Roscoe, Jamie’s cousin and the doctor who’d sewn Morgan’s face together the last time they’d been together. He sighed and stroked Jamie’s face, once, and turned to Morgan. “Thank you for bringing him in.”

Then he turned to a different nurse who’d joined them. “I want a CT scan as soon as possible. I also want him out of these wet clothes and into dry ones. I don’t think he’s hypothermic, but get his vitals and screen for it anyway.”

They wheeled Jamie away, and Morgan’s heart sank. Phil turned to Morgan and leaned against the counter while the first nurse wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his arm.

“Wait a minute,” Morgan stammered, still shivering. “Jamie’s the one who’s hurt. I’m fine.”

Phil stuck a thermometer into Morgan’s mouth. Morgan, shocked, accepted it. “Forgive me, but you literally gave the shirt off your back to bandage someone’s head injury two hours ago.”

The doctor gave half a grin. “You’re looking a little chilled, my friend. And maybe a little shocky, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

The thermometer beeped, and Phil winced. “Yeah, I don’t like that. You’re at 96.5, buddy. I think you need to stay here for the night, at least. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

Morgan shook his head. “It’s Jamie,” he said slowly. “Jamie. He hit his head.”

He explained about the branch, and how he’d been trying to get him out of the way of the branch when it had happened. “You’ve got to help him. I’m inside now, I’ll be fine. I can wait in the cafeteria or something.”

Phil met his eyes. “Morgan, it’s a big hospital. We’ve got a big staff, okay? We can afford to let you stay here too.”

He took his hand. “Whatever the circumstances, thank you for getting Jamie home. You can tell me all about it when you’ve had a chance to warm up, eat something, and get cleaned up.” He patted Morgan’s shoulder. “Rest, okay?”

Morgan swayed in place, and then he pitched forward. He didn’t feel Phil catching him. The darkness had already claimed him.