I put my hand on his stomach again. The blood comes from theright side of his stomach, just above his hip. My eyes are closed, though they don’t need to be. It’s so dark. Still I touch tentatively, gently, around his side.
There’s a hole there.
Oh God.My eyes burn and my heart catches in my chest. Blood pours from the hole in Jamie’s side in a steady stream. I take one of the shirts and press it against the wound.
I feel along his side to his back.
Another hole, smaller. They had to have hit him in the back, and the front was his exit wound. I press the second shirt there and reach behind me with a free, sticky, blood-covered hand, and take out a pair of pants.
“Come on,” I say. I pull up his heavy torso, slipping one pant leg under him. My arm’s covered in warm wetness that I can’t see. I readjust both T-shirts and tie the pant leg as tight as I can around his stomach. I put my foot against his hip and use it for leverage as I tighten the jeans more, then tie them in a double knot. Jamie groans, still alive but not awake.
“I know,” I say, reaching under the jeans to make sure the T-shirts are still packed against the wound. “I’m sorry.”
I don’t know what else to do. I didn’t realize it before, but now I notice the warm wetness on my cheeks. I give in and let out silent sobs as I hold my hand on his stomach.
He’s bleeding to death in front of me and there’s nothing I can do.
I lean forward and kiss him. His lips are cold and dry.
“What do I do?” I ask him. “Please tell me what to do.”
He’s still breathing, but he says nothing. I can’t even think of whatcould be in the first aid kit that would be helpful, but Cara’s bike is in the clearing, too. I could go back for it.
I listen in the darkness for the men from Fort Caroline. I don’t hear anything. I look down at the Jamie-shaped shadow in front of me. I know they’ll be back in the clearing, waiting for us or searching the woods. That’s how they found me when I went to pee. I heard the twig snap before someone sucker punched me. Then there was a group of people on me and before I could scream, they shoved the T-shirt in my mouth.
But if I do nothing, Jamie’s dead. I feel along the tied jeans, checking for more blood. I don’tthinkthere’s any more.
Oh God, this is stupid. I lean forward and kiss Jamie’s cold forehead. He lets out a shallow breath against my neck.
“I’ll be right back.”
I climb up the hill, back the way we came. I don’t know how far we ran, and in the dark, I might be totally turned around. But I can’t do nothing. I can’t sit there while Jamie bleeds to death. And if he does die, I’m ready to kill every last one of those bastards.
It turns out I don’t need a mental compass because the men of Fort Caroline can’t seem to keep their mouths shut. I follow their voices back toward the clearing. It isn’t until I see the dim headlights of a truck in the clearing that I recognize the voice.
It’s Danny Rosewood. And he’s pissed.
“—and while we’re at it, how the frig did you let them get away?”
“I told you, Danny...” This is Sheriff Denton. “Someone else was with them.”
“Well, who the hell was it?”
“I don’t know, we haven’t found him.” Him? They have to know it was Cara. She left the motel the day after us. So why is Grover Denton acting like he doesn’t know who could possibly be with us? Cara’s bike is propped up against the back of the farm stand, out of sight. Did none of them even go back to look there?
Cara. She has to be okay. I don’t think I’d be able to stand it if they were both shot. If they’re both dead.
Fury and grief rise in my chest and I want to run out of the woods screaming. I want to strangle Danny Rosewood to death.
“Get the heck back out there and find them!” Danny Rosewood screams. The men move, but Grover Denton puts out a hand, yelling for them to stop. “What in God’s name do you mean, no, Denton?”
“I mean no, sir. We’re not doing this anymore.”
“You don’t decide what we’re doing, I do!” Rosewood takes a large step to Denton, looking up at him and pointing a finger in his face.
“And I’m telling you that we’re not doing what you say anymore. You’re emotional...”
“Gosh dern right I’m emotional! They killed my boy! He was strong enough to fight off the flu but those peckerwoods ambushed him like a buncha sneaks and now he’s dead.”
