I'm right here. I slam on the brakes and throw the door open.
I hear a gasp across the line, and everything in me stills as I wait for more. The world feels violently sharp, like it's caging me in with sharp, pointy edges as I wait for something more... the confirmation that that wasn't his last breath.
I nearly sob in relief when I hear the gurgling sound.
I don't even stop to contemplate what it is. I don't grab my phone or disconnect it; I just drop from my car and run before I've even gotten my feet beneath me, making a dash for his door.
The steps are slippery. The whole world feels slippery as I run up them, praying he didn't lock his door. Why would he, if he knew I was coming? He wanted me to come... me and her brother. Because he didn't want her to find him dead. And he didn't want me to see him either.
"Cal!" I throw his front door open so hard it bounces back at me before I'm even fully through it.
The place is quiet and still, dark. Everything is as it should be— no dishes left out, nothing broken, no signs of a struggle.
I throw open his bedroom door, but when it's empty, I know exactly where to go.
I take the basement steps two at a time, moving toward the light that was left on on the other side of the terrarium.
"Cal!" I call, my breath leaving in sharp gasps. I stumble on the final stair, go careening toward the terrarium, and use it to catch myself, pushing to standing.
When I round the corner, the first thing I see is her dark hair, hanging over the table.
I freeze so violently that my entire body cramps, protesting the next steps that I have to take.
She's still, entirely fucking motionless. I don't even see a rise or fall of her chest, and there are no machines hooked up to her like some kind of crazy experiment. The blood is stark against her dress, unmistakable.
And next to her, with a red gash across his throat, lies Cal.
His eyes are open, fixed on her, but glassy and unmoving. He doesn't move or register my presence as I scream his name, my entire body full of dread that I can't contend with. I can't fucking breathe, but I find the air to call for him again and find the strength to pull him off of her.
His blood is still warm, still pooling around us, dripping on the floor where I stand, helpless, motionless.
The only sound in the room is the slow drip of the blood and a faint wheezing... a wheeze that tells me he's not dead yet.
I don't know the protocol for this kind of injury, and I can't search it since I left my phone in the car. All I can think is to stop the bleeding.
I didn't wear a fucking shirt, and his isn't coming off over his head, so I'm helpless to find anything other than my own hands.
It will have to do.
His blood trickles against my hands as I press them to his neck, panic reminding me that I have no fucking clue what I am doing here.
"Amber!" I scream as loud as I possibly can.
I don't know if she's alive, but Cal seemed to believe so. He told me he didn't want her to see this, so he had to know she was alive. Maybe he just drugged her for some reason?
She doesn't stir, and without knowing what he gave her, I can't know whether it's useless to try. But I can't do anything else with my hands tied. His phone is still connected to mine, so I move my palm to cover as much of the wound as I can before reaching for the phone.
I disconnect the call, my fingers slipping over the screen as I dial 9-1-1.
I don't have time to play nice with the operator. I spit out as much information as I can, give her the address, and put her out of my mind as I drop the phone and disconnect the call.
My best friend is dying in my arms.
"Amber!" I scream. I need a second set of hands, and the paramedics will be too far away.
Her lashes flutter just a bit, indicating that she heard me.
It's not enough to bring her back from wherever she is, but I'm desperate. I roll Cal to his side, and the choking sound he’s been making stops. I don't know if that's good or bad, but I've got both hands on his throat again, holding it closed.
