Blade's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Blade hammered the last nail into the western beam when he spotted them through the trees. A line of people, maybe twenty, walking slowly toward his half-roofed clinic. Word had spread faster than he'd expected. His hands stilled on the hammer as he counted heads, then glanced back at the incomplete roof above him. He climbed down and grabbed his walking stick from where it leaned against the Tudor-style wall. The stick's bark peeled in places, worn smooth from use. He needed to meet them, not hide behind unfinished work. The herb beds were planted. The eastern half had shelter. It would have to be enough. Blade stepped into the clearing and raised one hand. The first woman in line leaned heavily on her companion's arm. Behind her, a man cradled his bandaged hand against his chest. Others coughed or limped. They'd come because they had nowhere else to go. He pointed them toward the small Tudor nook he'd built last month, its mushroom-capped roof offering shade and seats along the inner walls. He tied a strip of orange cloth to the doorpost where a monarch butterfly had landed that morning. The bright fabric caught the breeze. People would know the clinic was open now, ready or not. The first patient stepped forward, and Blade gestured her inside where the roof held strong.