Chapter 100: Sadie: The Boy In The Woods(II)

SADIE

FLASHBACK CONTINUES

My feet stay planted on the ground as I hold the flashlight on the person against the tree. He’s alive. He just whispered for help, and unlike the ones scattered around the clearing, all his parts seem to be attached to his body. That’s something, I suppose, but he’s losing so much blood that I’m not sure how much time it buys him.

I take a step toward him, then stop, because needing help doesn’t mean he’s safe to approach. What if that’s how he gets people close?

He acts injured, asks for help, and waits for someone to worry more about him dying than about what he could do to them? I know the bodies belong to rogues, but if he killed this many, I’m hardly going to be a challenge.

"Goddess, what do I do?" I whisper, tightening my grip on the flashlight.

"Help me."

His voice barely reaches me this time, and suddenly, leaving him here scares me more than going near him. Whatever he might be capable of, I don’t think he can keep himself alive while I decide.

I hurry over and drop to my knees beside him, sweeping the flashlight over his body. Blood covers his face so thickly that I can barely tell what he looks like. It’s soaked into his clothes too, and when I reach his stomach, I see it seeping around the hand he’s pressing there.

Gosh, there’s so much of it. I need to touch him somewhere, do something useful, but I’ve never had to work out how to keep someone alive before.

"I’m going to help you, okay?" I lean closer, fighting the urge to pull away from the stench. "We need to get out of the woods. Just sta... stay calm."

I’d sound more convincing if I could manage that myself. My stomach turns, and I swallow hard, keeping my eyes on him.

"Rip my shirt," he whispers.

"Is that okay?" I ask, reaching for it. It’s a stupid question now that I’ve heard myself, but he nods anyway.

"Just do it."

I grip the fabric and pull until it tears, leaving part of his chest exposed. There are claw marks across it, some still oozing blood, and my hands stop for a moment.

"Around my stomach," he says, jerking my focus back to him. "Tie it."

What if I tie it wrong? I look from the cloth to his face, but there’s no one else here to ask. All I can do is follow his instructions.

I lean close and work the cloth behind his waist. My fingers slip as I bring the ends together, and it takes longer than it should to make a knot. I tighten it carefully, watching his face for any sign that I’m making things worse.

"Do you have your phone?"

He gives a small nod and shifts, a groan escaping him. I find it in his pocket and pull it out, taking a breath before opening the emergency keypad. I need my hands to stay still for this much, at least.

The call connects, and I nearly cry from relief.

"911. What’s your emergency?"

"Silvercrest Pack. I’m in the woods near the old stone bridge, before the Kincaid estate. Someone was attacked by rogues, and he’s losing so much blood."

"Where did you enter the woods?"

"There’s a path just past the bridge, at the bend in the road."

"Are you still on that path?"

"It opens into a clearing. That’s where I found him." I keep the flashlight on his face. "Can you send someone? Please?"

"Help is on the way. Is he awake and breathing?"

"He’s awake. He’s breathing, but he sounds weaker every time he talks."

"Where is the bleeding coming from?"

"His stomach. There are cuts on his chest too. I tied part of his shirt around him, but—" I swallow, looking at the soaked fabric. "How long will you take?"

"An ambulance has been dispatched. The estimated arrival time at the road entrance is eight minutes. Remain on the line with me."

Eight minutes gets them to the road, not to us. I look back along the path, trying to work out how they’ll find us from there.

"We’re deep in the woods. I need to get him to the road."

"Before you attempt to move him, is there an immediate threat where you are? Can you see or hear any other rogues?"

"I don’t know." My flashlight moves toward the trees. "There could be more. I don’t want to stay here and find out."

"If you’re in immediate danger, move to safety if you can. Can he walk with your help?"

I lean closer to him. "Can you stand if I help you? The ambulance is coming, but we need to get nearer to the road."

He gives a small nod, his face tightening with the effort.

"He says he can."

"Keep the line open and let me know when you reach the road. I’ll relay your location to the responding crew."

I switch to speaker and tuck the phone into my pocket, leaving the top exposed.

"They’re coming," I tell him. "I’m going to help you stand now. It might hurt."

I set the flashlight beside my knee and move closer, lifting his arm over my shoulders. He’s heavier than I expected, and we haven’t even reached the difficult part yet. I wrap my other arm around his back, careful of the cuts.

"Ready?"

I plant my feet and push myself up as he pulls away from the tree. A groan catches in his throat, and his weight settles against me so suddenly that my knees buckle. I tighten my hold, trying to straighten them before we both end up where we started.

He has a lot of muscle for someone who currently needs mine. It must be useful when he’s fighting rogues. Right now, it’s mostly making me wish someone had let me eat before sending me out here.

When I bend for the flashlight, his weight follows me, nearly taking us both down. I grab it and brace my feet before my knees give way.

"Just hold on," I tell him, catching my breath. "I’ll get you out of here. Lean on me."

"You’re barely holding me up," he grumbles. "Just lead the way."

I press my teeth together. I know I’m not doing a wonderful job, but I’m the only person here willing to try. If he has any rogue friends who can do better, I’ll happily leave him here and let them take over.

We start along the path I came from, his arm heavy across my shoulders while I keep mine around his back. Every step takes more effort than I expect, and the bottle hanging from my arm keeps getting between us. I shift it away, and point the flashlight ahead, hoping the way back is shorter than it felt coming in.

"What’s your name? Where are you from?" I ask once we’ve put some distance between us and the clearing. "How did you get out here? Have you been hurt for long?"

He stays quiet, and I glance up, trying to see his face without putting the light in his eyes.

"Haven’t you heard," he says at last, struggling between words, "that people on the verge of death shouldn’t talk?"

I turn back to the path and press my lips together. He has plenty of attitude for someone who needs me to keep him standing. No wonder the rogues found him. Maybe they could sense his attitude from wherever they were and came to see what his problem was.

"Shouldn’t I at least know who I’m helping?" I stop for a breath. "If talking to me is that bad, I can happily be on my way."

"I hate talking." He struggles to draw breath before continuing. "Not from here. I’m—"

His legs buckle before he finishes, and I stagger under him, nearly dropping the flashlight as I catch his weight.

"I’m sorry. Okay, don’t talk." I look up, but his head is hanging close to my shoulder. "Just stay awake. Please. We’re nearly there."

I try to move faster, though keeping him upright means every few steps turn into a struggle to find my balance. The flashlight bounces over roots and patches of dirt as I hold him closer.

Don’t die. Please don’t die while I’m still trying to get you there.

It takes another ten minutes before I see light beyond the trees, and I nearly cry with relief.

"We’re almost there," I tell him. "Look. We’re getting out."

When he doesn’t lift his head, I turn toward him as much as his weight allows. He’s hanging heavily across my shoulders now, his feet dragging as I pull him along.

"Hey." I try to get a look at his face. "Stay with me. Please don’t die now."

I keep moving, practically dragging him through the last stretch of trees. By the time we reach the edge of the road, my legs won’t hold either of us. I try to lower him, but I go down with him, landing hard beside his body.