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Once the wound is clean and I can see it better, I let out a gasp. The puncture wound is deeper than it initially appeared, and the flesh is torn and rough looking. The skin around it looks angry with a purple color spreading around the jagged edges. Thankfully, it’s no longer bleeding, but I imagine he lost a lot of blood before he made his way here.
My hands tremble as I smear a glob of the green stuff all over the deep wound, and I push down the fear that I might be doing more harm than good. I can’t just sit around and do nothing while he’s suffering. He might be dying, and I can’t let that happen.
When I’m finished, I settle down to wait and watch over the big alien sprawled in front of me.
Over the next few hours, the fever rages through him.
Draggar is covered in sweat and his skin burns hot when I touch him. I try my best to keep him cool by wiping down his body with one of the bandages dampened with water, but as soon as I’ve wiped him down the damp cloth turns hot from his body temperature.
But still, I continue, hoping that it will provide at least some relief. Over and over, I bathe him with the cloth as the sun sets and daylight turns to night.
Later in the night, Draggar begins to mumble, his words slurred and indecipherable to me and his thickly ridged brow creased as he dreams. He calls out for someone named Danir, and the anguish in his voice makes my chest clench.
I find myself running my hand through his silver locks and talking to him, my voice soft and quiet, hoping to offer any comfort I can. I tell him about my life back on Earth, about the abduction and the others, about my fears, and about the weird feelings I’ve been having for him.
My cheeks flush red at that and I would expire of embarrassment if I thought he could hear me, but he can’t. After a while, it seems to work and his agitation eases until he grows still again.
His eyes are closed and his face is relaxed in deep slumber, and I’m relieved he is finally sleeping peacefully. I eat a little more of the jerky and sip some water before exhaustion begins to show itself.
Other than earlier today, I’ve only slept in fits and starts ever since being abducted, and the lack of sleep is catching up with me. A yawn bursts from my mouth and my eyelids grow heavy. No matter how hard I try to stay awake, to watch over my patient, I can’t keep my eyes open.
With a shiver at the rapidly cooling temperature, I eye the pallet Draggar lies on. There’s just enough room for me to lay down beside him and take a nap, so I do.
Later in the night, I startle awake with a jerk. For a split second, I’m confused at my surroundings as I blink my blurry eyes against the dark, shadowy interior. There’s just enough light seeping into the cave from the moons and the glowing jungle to be able to make out some of the details around me, and it all comes rushing back to me. That’s when I notice the presence of a large body against me.
It’s Draggar.
I must have curled up with him in my sleep. My head is on his chest, and for a split second, I swear I can hear two hearts beating inside him, but that can’t be right.
Before I can turn over to check on him, I feel a shudder shake his large frame and a sharp gasp. His voice is tight with pain as he begins to mumble again. I don’t know what he is seeing in his dreams, but it makes me ache in sympathy for the big alien.
His breathing grows labored and heavy, and his hands grip the fur beneath him with an iron hold that makes his knuckles turn almost white. I can just barely make out some of his mumbled words, now.
“No!!!. . . Haley . . . Attack . . . have to save her.” I don’t really understand what he’s talking about, except my name, but I can almost feel the fear and pain ripping through him.
“Shhh, Draggar, it’s okay. Everything is okay. You’re safe, now.” I run my hand through his hair and I lean my head down until it’s pressed to his bare shoulder as I continue to whisper comforting words to him.
His nostrils flare as he sucks in a deep, shuddering breath and a tremor runs through his body before he grows quiet again. Then, he starts to shiver. His teeth chatter, and the noise is loud in the quiet stillness of the cave. I wrap my arm around his shoulders and get as close as I can hoping to soothe and warm him.
That’s how the next day and night passes. Draggar goes through periods of burning up with fever and then wracked with shudders as if he cannot get warm enough. I wipe him down with a damp cloth when the fever rages through him and snuggle up as close as I can get to him when he shivers so much he cannot remain still.
There are a few moments when he is still and his eyes open and he looks at me, but his gaze is confused. During those times, I try to get him to swallow as much water as he can so that he won’t become dehydrated.
By the time the sky darkened on the second night, I managed to build a small fire at the mouth of the cave using a flint and striker that I found in the satchel. It’s ironic that my college boyfriend loved camping and I went along even though I hated it – looks like I came away with at least something good from that relationship. The warmth from the fire spreads into the cave to us and I use it to warm water to make it easy to wash away the pungent ooze from the wound on his side.
It's afternoon, now, and almost two full days since he stumbled into the cave. As I check on his wound, the oozing from it seems to have completely subsided and I swear the edges of the deep wound look like they’re beginning to close over with new healthy skin being regenerated. Even his fever seems to have broken. I am astonished at how quickly Draggar is healing, and I look at the green goo with newfound respect.
I finish smearing a little more of the goo on his wound and glance up as I hear a sigh.
Draggar is awake and watching, his silver eyes clear and focused for the first time in what seems like ages. A blush burns my cheeks as his gaze roams over me, taking in my hand placed squarely in the middle of his broad chest. As his eyes meet mine, I feel a blaze of heat rush through me, and the urge to throw my arms around him is almost too strong to resist.
I clear my throat and smile. “Hi.” I don’t know what else to say as I sheepishly remove my hand from him and then, busy myself getting out the waterskin.
I hold the waterskin to his parched lips, and he takes a long sip, his throat working as he swallows. When he’s through, I get up and retrieve the small metal cup that I found earlier in the satchel. I’ve had it nestled in the still warm ashes of the fire after I realized I could make a broth with some of the jerky and water.
I take a cautious sip and cough as warmth flows down my throat. It is a little weak, but I can still taste the gaminess of the meat. Well, it’s better than nothing.
I return to him, walking carefully so as not to spill any of the precious liquid in the cup. The big alien silently watches me, his eyes following my every move as I slowly sink down beside him and lean over to let him sip from the cup.
