Silhouetted against the light from the doorway, the man sat on his knees, knife in hand.

Clay scrabbled up and chose his next move.

The attacker’s cheeks jutted out as if he were smiling. Then he swung around and plunged the knife into Leah’s chest.

“No! Leah!”

The man dashed away with his knife. If Clay chased him, he couldn’t help Leah.

Clay scrambled to her. “Leah! Leah!”

She was conscious, her eyes squeezed shut in pain.

He ripped off the gag and assessed the knife wound. “Leah, talk to me.”

“He—he—” She swept her hand down over her clothing, trying to cover herself.

Clay only looked at the wound, at the blood spilling out. Right upper chest below the clavicle. Arteries and veins ran through the region. “Leah, we’re going to stop the bleeding and get you to the hospital, all right?”

She looked up at him, breathing hard and ragged, not a tear in her eyes.

“That’s a brave girl. Stay nice and calm.” He ripped off his shirt, buttons pinging onto the floor. “This is for a bandage. No need to worry.”

He yanked off his undershirt, rolled it into a ball, and pressed it firmly into the wound.

Leah moaned but barely stirred.

Clay held one shirtsleeve in each hand and whipped his shirt in a circle, rolling it into a bandage. He laid it across the wound, tossed one end over her left shoulder, and tucked the other under her right arm.

“I’m going to lift you to tie this.” He worked his arm behind her shoulders.

She cried out.

Her left arm lay at a crooked angle. That vermin had dislocated her shoulder, and Clay’s gut burned.

“I’ll be gentle, but I need to tie this so I can transport you.” He carefully draped her left arm across her stomach, and she groaned.

“That’s a good girl. You can do this.” He lifted her shoulders just enough to pass the bandage behind her, and he knotted it beside her neck on the left. “Bear with me. This may hurt, but we need to get you to the hospital.”

“I under . . . stand.” Her voice was faint.

He pulled her skirt down and arranged the remnants of her blouse to cover her somewhat, but her life was more important than her modesty.

Clay scooped her into his arms. “How are you doing?”

She nodded, her eyes unfocused.

No! He couldn’t let her bleed to death. “Stay with me, Leah.”

He strode through the library and kicked open the door. A jeep, a jeep. Why wasn’t there a jeep on the road when he needed one?

The hospital at Camp Forrest was about a mile away, and Clay took off running. The few soldiers on the sidewalk looked at him in alarm.