Off Limits by Lindsay McKenna Page B

“Yes.”
    Jim eased her to the ground and gently removed the bandage. He noticed that Alex shut her eyes and refused to watch him work over her wound. Taking out the amber bottle containing the antibiotic, he quickly sprinkled the yellow dust across the injury and wrapped it again.
    Alex sat up with his help as he rebandaged the wound. The dusk had turned to bare twilight. “How are you going to be able to see?” she asked.
    â€œSame way we did last night.”
    With a shake of her head, Alex muttered, “You’ve got the eyes of an owl, Jim McKenzie.”
    He smiled and gestured for her to follow him. “I’ve been called plenty of things in my life, but never an owl.”
    â€œWhat kinds of things?”
    â€œLadies don’t need to hear those sorts of words. Come on, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover tonight.”
    Tonight was different, Alex decided quickly. They weren’t being pursued by B-52 bombs dropping out of the night sky, and Jim was being much more careful. She was amazed at the way his bare feet caressed the damp, branch-strewn jungle floor, making no sound. Leaves swatted constantly at her face and body. Sometimes a vine would trip her. Jim merely tightened his grip around her waist, catching her before she fell and holding her until she nodded that she was ready to move forward again.
    Hours later, they discovered a small stream. Jim carefully checked the area for trip wires and land mines before allowing Alex to go down to the bank to drink. They rested, hidden in the tall grass along the bank. Because of her sling, Alex couldn’t wash her neck or arm as Jim could. He pulled off the olive green T-shirt he wore beneath his utility shirt and washed it in the stream, then wrung it out and moved over to where she sat.
    â€œWant to get rid of some of that dirt?” he asked, his teeth white against his darkened skin.
    Alex nodded. “Please,” she murmured, grateful for his sensitivity to her needs. Jim positioned her near the water and wet her hair. Alex had never had her hair washed by a man, but she closed her eyes and languished in Jim’s care. Taking the only dry piece of his green towel, he dried her hair. Alex managed to tame the damp strands into a semblance of order. As much as she wanted to talk, she knew it was impossible. Voices carried and could alert the VC.
    â€œOkay,” Jim whispered finally. He tied the damp T-shirt around his web belt. Reaching over, he gripped Alex’s hand. “Ready?” They were making good time, and she seemed to grow strong as the night wore on. Jim was sure the sulfa powder was finally wreaking havoc on that stubborn infection in Alex’s wound. She seemed to be regaining her former strength.
    Near 0400, Jim heard a strange noise. Instantly, he pulled Alex next to him. His eyes narrowed as he scoped out the thinning jungle around them. At first, he thought he was seeing things, then he realized he wasn’t. His heart began a hard, steady thump in his chest. His grip on Alex tightened. Straight ahead of them rose a small hill out of the jungle floor. It was the marine firebase! The hill was no more than a mile away, barely outlined by the first hint of dawn on the horizon.
    Another sound, a more lethal one, had caught Jim’s attention. No more than a hundred feet away, ten VC walked quickly toward the hill, armed and ready to fight. He felt Alex’s hand tighten on his arm. She’d seen the enemy, too. Looking around, Jim spotted a mild depression in the earth. It was a crater made by mortar at an earlier date, he was sure. Worriedly, he gestured for Alex to move into the depression as soon as the VC column passed.
    Alex tried to steady her breathing as Jim situated her in the freshly churned earth and began dragging banana leaves, blown off by earlier explosions, across her. She reached out and captured his hand.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” she demanded softly.
    Jim lay