"You're not hit in the chest. You're imagining that. Here, I'll tear my shirt and bind your chest and shoulder."
He was aware of the darkening sky as he ripped the shirt. He was aware, too, of the dark stalks of cactus and bush around them, the nervousness of the horses. All right, it was going to rain. All right, they'd be on their way soon enough. He'd have to steady Raul, help him mount. Lucienne's place was the closest. Tighten the bandage, help him get up. That crazy Chico might refuse to stand. All right, he would use his own horse.
Rifle in hand, he walked alongside Raul, his eyes mere slits. Raul rocked in his saddle, pain making it impossible for him to sit erect.
"Slow enough?" asked Manuel.
"It's not bad."
"I'm taking you to Doña Lucienne's. It's the nearest place. Chico's coming along behind."
"We'd better ride home," said Raul.
"It's too far to Petaca."
"I can make it."
"No, it's much too far."