about the slice on my wrist. I pushed my sleeve up; the skin around the cut was red and puffy, sure signs of an infection. I scooped up a handful of snow and put it on my aching skin. I wiggled my toes, desperately wanting to gain the feeling back in my feet. It didn’t help so I forced myself into a jog.
I quickly got out of breath and my heart hammered in my chest. I stopped, feeling suddenly weak and dizzy. I sank onto the cold ground, the hard snowflakes panging against my face.
Which felt hot.
Damn it.
This wasn’t happening. I didn’t have time for this. I pulled my sleeve back and looked at the cut. Yes, it was definitely infected.
“No,” I told myself. “You do not have blood poisoning.” If I did, I’d be dead in a day. I forced myself to my feet. I made it another half an hour before the nausea hit. Dragging my feet, I continued. There was no stopping now, not if I wanted to live.
My body broke out in uncontrollable shivers, which only worsened the horrible feeling in my stomach. The snowfall increased, decreasing my visibility. A crazy could easily sneak up on me, though even if I saw it a mile away, all I could do was shoot; I was in no condition to fight.
“Hah,” I said to myself. As if I could hold the pistol steady enough to get a good shot. I stopped to pee as the sun set, realizing that it was the first time I had to go to the bathroom all day. I knew that it was partially because I hadn’t had much to drink, still, I couldn’t help but worry my organs were shutting down due to the poisonous bacteria that floated in my blood.
I trudged forward, slipping and falling. The jolt sent my queasy stomach over the edge and I threw up what little food I had eaten. Unable to get up, I crawled forward. I don’t know how much time passed. My hands and knees had gone numb. I was so weak I could barely move.
When I saw the light ahead, I figured it was some sort of reverse mirage. Instead of seeking cool, refreshing relief from a hot desert, I wanted to be warm, warm and well. Somehow I managed to pull myself to my feet. In a stage of delirium, I fell several times as I emerged from the forest and plodded up the gravel driveway.
It had been plowed, I could tell since several security lights blared blindly bright lights. I felt like I was stumbling around wasted, except that I was fighting to stay conscious and alive with every breath. It was so hard to get my feet up the stairs. I remembered knocking on the door, thinking that I better pull it together or whoever was in the house might shoot me on sight, thinking I was a zombie.
I took a deep breath and widened my eyes, which desperately wanted to close. A young boy answered the door, holding a shotgun in his hands.
“Ma!” he hollered. “Ma! Get over here fast!”
I heard the shuffling of feet. My vision blurred.
“Oh my!” a gruff female voice spoke. “Dear, have you been bit?”
“No, not bit,” I mumbled. Then I lost my balance. The woman caught me.
“Beau, Casey, get in here!”
Someone grabbed me and carried me over to a sofa. I knew they were talking to me but my brain couldn’t discern what the words were saying. I held up my arm, mumbled the words ‘blood poisoning’ and passed out.
I was only out for a few minutes. When I woke up, a pretty red head was scrubbing my wrist. Her green eyes held back fear and were filled with tears. She looked at me with what I could only say was empathy.
“Hi,” she said shyly, looking over her shoulder in fear. “I’m Olivia. As soon as you’re better you need to leave,” she whispered harshly.
“I’m planning on it,” I promised.
“Good. Because you can’t—” she cut off as soon as one of the guys came into the room. Her body tensed up in fear and the tears that brimmed her eyes spilled over.
“You taking care of our guest now?” he asked. Olivia nodded slightly. “Good. We want her healthy.” He knelt down next to the couch and examined me. “I’m Beau,” he
I quickly got out of breath and my heart hammered in my chest. I stopped, feeling suddenly weak and dizzy. I sank onto the cold ground, the hard snowflakes panging against my face.
Which felt hot.
Damn it.
This wasn’t happening. I didn’t have time for this. I pulled my sleeve back and looked at the cut. Yes, it was definitely infected.
“No,” I told myself. “You do not have blood poisoning.” If I did, I’d be dead in a day. I forced myself to my feet. I made it another half an hour before the nausea hit. Dragging my feet, I continued. There was no stopping now, not if I wanted to live.
My body broke out in uncontrollable shivers, which only worsened the horrible feeling in my stomach. The snowfall increased, decreasing my visibility. A crazy could easily sneak up on me, though even if I saw it a mile away, all I could do was shoot; I was in no condition to fight.
“Hah,” I said to myself. As if I could hold the pistol steady enough to get a good shot. I stopped to pee as the sun set, realizing that it was the first time I had to go to the bathroom all day. I knew that it was partially because I hadn’t had much to drink, still, I couldn’t help but worry my organs were shutting down due to the poisonous bacteria that floated in my blood.
I trudged forward, slipping and falling. The jolt sent my queasy stomach over the edge and I threw up what little food I had eaten. Unable to get up, I crawled forward. I don’t know how much time passed. My hands and knees had gone numb. I was so weak I could barely move.
When I saw the light ahead, I figured it was some sort of reverse mirage. Instead of seeking cool, refreshing relief from a hot desert, I wanted to be warm, warm and well. Somehow I managed to pull myself to my feet. In a stage of delirium, I fell several times as I emerged from the forest and plodded up the gravel driveway.
It had been plowed, I could tell since several security lights blared blindly bright lights. I felt like I was stumbling around wasted, except that I was fighting to stay conscious and alive with every breath. It was so hard to get my feet up the stairs. I remembered knocking on the door, thinking that I better pull it together or whoever was in the house might shoot me on sight, thinking I was a zombie.
I took a deep breath and widened my eyes, which desperately wanted to close. A young boy answered the door, holding a shotgun in his hands.
“Ma!” he hollered. “Ma! Get over here fast!”
I heard the shuffling of feet. My vision blurred.
“Oh my!” a gruff female voice spoke. “Dear, have you been bit?”
“No, not bit,” I mumbled. Then I lost my balance. The woman caught me.
“Beau, Casey, get in here!”
Someone grabbed me and carried me over to a sofa. I knew they were talking to me but my brain couldn’t discern what the words were saying. I held up my arm, mumbled the words ‘blood poisoning’ and passed out.
I was only out for a few minutes. When I woke up, a pretty red head was scrubbing my wrist. Her green eyes held back fear and were filled with tears. She looked at me with what I could only say was empathy.
“Hi,” she said shyly, looking over her shoulder in fear. “I’m Olivia. As soon as you’re better you need to leave,” she whispered harshly.
“I’m planning on it,” I promised.
“Good. Because you can’t—” she cut off as soon as one of the guys came into the room. Her body tensed up in fear and the tears that brimmed her eyes spilled over.
“You taking care of our guest now?” he asked. Olivia nodded slightly. “Good. We want her healthy.” He knelt down next to the couch and examined me. “I’m Beau,” he
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