The Wild Ones

I can feel the weight of my bag carving a deep red welt on my shoulder. The cans and supplies within it clank together with each step and as I shift the sack to get a better grip.
“The med center is two streets away at the corner of streets four and six.” Reminds The Prophet, who’s clearly having an easier time with the weight he’s carrying despite it being mostly canned goods and silverware. I nod to let him know I heard. We’re just turning the corner of the street when a long drawn-out scream shatters the silence. The scream was female and it definitely wasn’t a resident of the city, the noise was fear, it was pain, and the lapdogs here know neither. That sound was a Wild One, and so I run.

I run as though the scream was charged with energy, adrenaline pumping through my veins as I dash to the source of the sound led by an internal compass which I have never had before. And still I do not drop the bag; Because it contains life and somewhere very close is a Wild One who may need just that.

Andy is running a few steps behind me. I think he’s shouting something about ‘finding out where it came from’ but I’m not really listening. Somehow I know where to run. I just know.
We run down one street and another, swerving to miss pretentious lawn decorations and street signs. I see the dead shadow man before I see her. She’s sprawled on the ground with her arms akimbo and her head propped up on the curb, Straight brown hair is partially obscuring her face and fans out in a halo behind her head. The front of her shirt is covered in thick, dark, blood. I drop to my knees next to her at the same time as Andy. He seems utterly bewildered, eyes shifting repeatedly from the hole in her shirt to the bag at his side which he knows contains no medical supplies. I swallow down my own mounting panic.

“Is she breathing?” I prompt, snatching the first piece of fabric from the bag that my fingers find. He nods, two fingers against her throat.

“Good.” I force my shaking fingers to peel back her soaked shirt and press the wadded up fabric against the tear in her abdomen. There’s no time to assess the wound, but I sense it’s not too deep. The real danger is that she’s losing so much blood. The weapon must have punctured a major vessel. If I don’t stop the bleeding, she will die. Vaguely I notice who she is. I don’t know her name but she was one of the girls who was with Sylvia. It doesn’t matter Raven, keep going. My heart beats a mile a minute, like it’s trying to make up for hers slowing down and my fingers are shaking so hard that I can barely hold the makeshift bandage.

“Here,” I gasp to Andy. “Keep pressure on this.” He lunges for it, looking grateful to have something he can do. Other Wild Ones are approaching. I try to shout but all that comes out are gasps and wheezes that somewhat resemble words. I close my eyes for a second, then try again.

“I-I need warm water and… and a first aid kit. There’s a med-clinic down the street! Go!” They nod and run off. They’re back after less than two minutes of anxious panicking with the water and a white case with a red cross emblazoned across the front. She’s regaining consciousness; I can tell by her moans and twitching eyelids. But she’s deathly pale, and when I grab her wrist to check her pulse a last time her hands are freezing cold with tinges of blue on her fingertips. When I pull the bunched-up skirt off of the wound, it’s nearly soaked through. A splash of clean water clears away some of the blood and then someone is pushing a sterilized needle and thread into my hand. I take a deep breath, putting my hands down for the first stitch, and scream in pain.

My hand is burning in agony. It feels as though someone was pressing hot pokers into every inch of my skin and twisting the tips. My vision goes fuzzy and I see red electricity flowing from my fingertips to the wound. At the same time pain rips through my own stomach. Someone in the confusion grabs me under the arms and tears me away and my vision is failing and a girl is sobbing and people are shouting in deep voices and I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know.

Notes

Hello :)

Geez it's been a while, but don't worry. I won't give up on my stories. :) I've been swamped with responsibilities lately but now I'm on spring break so hopefully a few more chapters will follow this one, for my other story as well. :) I'm really sorry if this rather short chapter isn't up to my usual standards; I wanted to get a chapter out ASAP so this is a first draft rather than an edited chapter. I'm so grateful that you take the time out of your day to read my work, it really means the world to me. :) The question of the day is: does anyone here play Minecraft? What's your favorite build? Favorite server? Tell us about that below. :)
With love and until next chapter;
-BVBfangirlqueen