by Keeley Smith
Stephen watched the scene play out from his slumped position on the floor. Was it him or was everyone walking slower? To take his mind off his wound, he let it work overtime thinking of where Lester had rummaged for the supplies. The wood Lester could find, maybe, but the new clothes, dry clothes he was wearing, he was damn sure you couldn’t just find them in this place. Lester didn’t want him freezing to death as well as bleeding to death and this was a kind thought.
Lester was stood over the small fire arranging the wood. Someone had made a make shift clothes line so their clothes hung limp on the line near the heat. Lester added more wood as Deyna attacked it with a large stick. Wood popped and hissed, sparking to life. Lester must have done his shooting fireworks act like he’d done with the sconce. Why had he missed it? Were the black spots in his vision becoming more prolonged?
The fire was building, sending heat dancing across his face. This was the only part of his body that felt heat, the rest of it was stone cold, like that of a corpse. He couldn’t shake the image, the thought that he would be one sooner than he’d like if his injuries weren’t seen to.
Phillip sat on the floor, his eyes never leaving him. Stephen couldn’t decipher the look, it was a cross between angry and concerned. If Stephen went with the angry, he could figure out that he supposed Phillip blamed him for their Friday night visit to the cemetery. If they hadn’t gone, they wouldn’t be here.
The concerned look was for his injury, and his thoughts were right there with Phillip’s. Stephen had looked at the wound when everyone had been busy piling the wood on the fire. The ripped skin and muscle flapped with the slightest movement, it looked like lips that were set in a mocking grin. He held back the fresh wave of sickness and had applied pressure to it but it continued to pump out the sweet, red liquid to the rapid beat of his heart. He was surprised his body had any more left to pump.
Stephen watched Lester trying to take his mind off the blood and pain. Lester appeared quieter than before he’d retrieved the wood. What had put him in the mood? Or who? Lester always looked sad or concerned which made him antsy at the best of times but this quietness was different. Stephen could feel it amidst the cold in his bones thanks to their strange connection. He’d come to the realisation that he was the leader when it came to Phillip and Deyna but Lester was his leader. If Lester lost it, he would follow quickly.
He shifted his position and hissed in pain. His head spun making his body sway, the ground dipped beneath him as he lay there. He coughed and felt the bubble at his mouth. Lifting his hand he wiped his mouth and looked at the bright red blood smeared there. His breathing became shallow as pain took a hold of his lungs and squeezed.
He closed his eyes feeling the panic rise in his chest. He felt a weight drop onto his body forcing him into the ground.
Was he dying?
The world became silent as blackness washed over him.
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