The Tortured Rebel by Alison Roberts

conservation base?’
    ‘May as well give it a go,’ Jet said cheerfully. ‘Not too much else to do, is there? How much do you know about this volcano?’ He was onto the second pouch of saline now, trickling it into the centre of the wound and tipping her arm carefully so that it drained towards the edges.
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘I’m wondering how many craters there are, for instance. And whether any of them had lakes.’ Having made the wound as clean as possible, Jet swabbed it dry with clean gauze and then ripped open the packet containing the curved suture needle and attached thread. He had to swab fresh bleeding away then and decided it needed a couple of deep stitches before he closed the surface.
    Becca looked away as the needle advanced. ‘Does it make a difference? Having lakes?’
    ‘Could do. Lakes mean you can get lahars. Rivers of mud and stuff that can do a lot of damage. They can move a lot faster than anyone can run and they setlike concrete. They’ve been known to wipe out entire villages.’
    ‘So we might get to the base camp and find it’s too late,’ Becca said quietly.
    Jet made no response. What was the point? They might not even get there at all but they had to try.
    ‘Lava’s not so bad,’ he said a short time later, now working swiftly to insert, knot and clip the neat sutures closing the wound. ‘Generally moves slowly enough so you can keep out of the way. The problem will be if it’s cut access off completely.’
    ‘What about the gases volcanoes give off? Aren’t they poisonous?’
    ‘Some of them,’ Jet admitted. ‘But there’s no point worrying about it given that we’re a bit limited in what we can do. Staying upright is a good idea because a lot of those gases are heavier than air and will accumulate close to ground level. Respirators would be ideal but I guess we’re lucky we’ve got these good quality antiviral-type masks. If we moisten them, they’ll be more effective against gases as well as ash.’
    He clipped the final suture and put a sticky, clear dressing over the wound.
    ‘I’ll bandage it for now. If it gets any more painful we’ll splint it properly. Try not to put too much weight on it.’
    ‘Thanks, Doc. I’ll keep that in mind.’
    Definitely mocking him now and he probably deserved it. Heaven only knew how rough the journey they were about to undertake might be. Becca might well need to climb up steep cliffs or get down rough gullies. Not using an arm was hardly going to be ona priority list if you were trying to save yourself from further injury.
    ‘I should have kept our helmets on,’ he muttered. ‘Stupid.’
    ‘I’ve got sunglasses.’ Becca patted a top pocket of her flight suit. ‘Have you?’
    ‘Yeah…. somewhere, I think.’
    ‘Should help keep ash out of our eyes at least. Mine are starting to sting a bit.’
    ‘Yeah … mine, too.’ Jet tore the end of the bandage with his teeth and made strips to tie it in place around Becca’s arm. ‘There you go. That should hold together a bit better than crocodile clips.’ He turned to begin putting unused supplies back into the pack.
    ‘Leave some saline,’ Becca ordered. ‘And a sticky dressing. And have you got some Steri-strips?’
    ‘What for?’ He swung his head back towards her sharply. Was she hurt somewhere else, as well?
    ‘Because you’ve got a dirty big gash on your forehead, that’s why.’
    ‘It can wait.’
    ‘Have you not even noticed how often you’re wiping blood off before it can get in your eyes? Quite apart from the risk of infection if it’s not covered up, it might be helpful not to get your vision obstructed at some critical point.’
    Jet grimaced but had to concede the point. He dampened another gauze dressing and swabbed at his forehead. The fluid stung enough to let him know the gash was not small.
    ‘Give that to me,’ Becca ordered. ‘You’re probably making it worse, scrubbing at it like that.’
    With a frustrated growl, Jet sat