Page 32 of Us Deadly Few

The heart aches to be chosen

Forgotten feelings daring to peek through

But when your hand extends to break me

I’ll cut mine off to be free of you.

7

I’d rather burn in a fiery blaze than extinguish without a trace.

Days passed on the sweltering surface. The landscape had long since become a monotonous expanse of barren rocky hills, stretching endlessly along the backdrop of an ancient highway.

Pain was her constant companion.

Blisters scabbed over blisters, and her ribs kept cramping.

Khalani forgot what it was like to not hurt.

Their pace had drastically slowed, much to Brock’s frustration.

Winnie’s shoulder was still wounded from the stray gunshot during their daring escape from prison, and her injured ankle barely supported her weight.

Khalani uncomfortably picked at her nails as she watched every wince and sign of distress mar Winnie’s face, even with Takeshi and Derek’s help.

She kept moving forward, reminding herself that Winnie was tenacious. Resilient. One of the strongest people she knew.

But the treacherous road to Hermes was challenging, even for the fittest Death-Zoners, and Winnie’s age worked against her.

“Here, Winnie.” Khalani held a canteen to Winnie’s lips when they stopped at another well. But the water dribbled down Winnie’s chin, her eyes glassy, as though a ghost had taken over.

“Winnie?” She gently touched her shoulder.

Without warning, Winnie collapsed to the sand.

“Winnie!” Khalani crashed to her knees beside her.

Panic erupted as the others quickly rushed over. “What happened?”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“I don’t know!” she yelled.

“Get her on her back,” Derek ordered.

Winnie’s eyes were shut, her skin so pale it looked blue. Only one other time had Khalani seen someone that color.

The image of her dead parents lying on a metal table surged in her mind, and she grasped both sides of her head, wanting to rip the memory out.

Takeshi brandished a knife, and Khalani nearly screamed, but he only cut the hem of Winnie’s white shirt from neck to shoulder. When he lifted the bloody bandage, they all sucked in a collective breath.

Yellowish-green pus leaked from the crusted wound, and the inflamed skin was streaked with red.

“The wound’s infected.” Dread perforated Brock’s voice.

Derek pressed his ear to Winnie’s chest and his palm to her forehead. “She’s breathing, but she’s burning up. The infection could be spreading through her bloodstream. She might go into septic shock.”

Septic shock. Khalani didn’t fully understand the term, but the palpable terror in Derek’s face spoke volumes.

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