Free The Monster Within by Darrell Pitt Page B

chocolate as we wanted. And lemonade. And
water…’
    Water. He didn’t want to think too much about it.
    They came over a rise. Another valley lay below, but this time it was different.
‘My goodness!’ Scarlet said. ‘A house!’
    Scarlet hurried down the hill with Jack close behind. They had barely taken a dozen
steps when Jack saw something move in the undergrowth.
    ‘Stop!’ he yelled. ‘There’s—’
    He was too late. The snake lashed out and Scarlet screamed.

CHAPTER TWELVE
    Scarlet slipped to the ground, grasping her leg. ‘I didn’t see it,’ she said. ‘Not
till the last moment.’
    Jack examined her. There was a bite mark just above her ankle. He quickly squeezed
away the excess venom from the wound. Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he looped
it around her leg to slow the blood flow.
    ‘How do you feel?’ Jack asked.
    ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘I just need to catch my breath.’
    The snake had slithered away. Jack’s first impulse was to let it go, but he might
need to identify it later. Snatching up a rock, he killed it and stuffed it into
one of his pockets.
    Scarlet was already back on her feet. ‘Let’s get to that house,’ she said. ‘Then
we’ll find the nearest town.’
    ‘Are you sure you can walk?’
    ‘We can’t stay here all day,’ she said. ‘I’m all right.’
    They continued down the hill. The house, an adobe cottage with a red-tiled roof,
was about a mile away, surrounded by a broken fence. A dirt road led away from it.
    Jack glanced over at Scarlet. She was looking deathly pale now, but still moving
at a good pace. ‘Rest for a moment,’ he said.
    ‘Not yet,’ she said, breathlessly. ‘I can rest all I want once we reach the house.’
    But Scarlet began to slow down. By the time they reached the broken fence, she was
starting to weave about. ‘I just need a cup of tea,’ she said. ‘A biscuit would be
nice.’
    She collapsed.
    ‘No!’ Jack cried.
    He took her pulse. It was steady, but she had broken out in a terrible sweat. She
opened her eyes blearily. ‘I don’t know why people play chess,’ she said. ‘It seems
unnecessarily…’
    ‘We’re almost there,’ Jack said. He carried her the rest of the way to the homestead.
‘Help! We need help!’ he cried.
    Nothing moved at the building. Now they were closer, Jack noticed how dilapidated
it was: everything in the garden had wilted or died. The front step hadn’t been swept
in years. Struggling under Scarlet’s weight, he gently placed her in the shade of
the veranda. The front door silently swung open, revealing an empty house.
    ‘Bazookas,’ Jack groaned. ‘What am I going to do?’
    Checking behind the house, he found an old well, but it was dry, the sides fallen
in. Returning to Scarlet, he tried rousing her by tapping her face. Her eyes were
half-open, but she wasn’t seeing anything.
    ‘I’m not leaving you,’ he promised.
    Mr Doyle had shown him how to pick someone up in a fireman’s lift. Jack lay next
to Scarlet, rolled and slowly stood, her body across his shoulders. The road had
to lead somewhere. Probably to a larger road. All he had to do was reach it.
    He started walking.
    I’ll count , he thought. One, two, three, four…
    When he got to a hundred, he stopped, dropping to one knee to allow himself a rest.
The sweat was rolling off him in rivulets. He should abandon his green coat. Return
for it later. But he had food and some other items that might come in handy, as well
as the compass. He struggled up again.
    Keep moving.
    Counting, he walked another hundred paces. And another.
    I’ll walk five hundred steps , he thought. Then I’ll have another rest.
    When he reached three hundred and fifty paces, Scarlet shifted on his shoulders and
he heard a retching sound. He quickly dropped to one knee and laid her down. She
had vomited.
    Jack tried to ignore his aching back and sore feet. He had stopped sweating, a scary
realisation. It meant he was dehydrated. He needed water. Lots