“Holy shit!” Nick yells, rounding the pit behind me. Both of our heads whip to him. “PD is right behind me.”
“Maci’s been stabbed,” I tell him before looking at Colt’s still body once more. “And I’m pretty sure he’s…gone.” It’s the least descriptive thing I can come up with. A dark gun reflects the firelight, discarded on the grass.
I look back to Maci, whose stare is fixed on Colt.
Nick bends over Colt’s body, pressing two fingers against his neck in the same way I did. He holds my gaze and after a moment shakes his head. “How long has he been down?”
I shake my head. “Not long.”
“I don’t think there’s any coming back from that.” Maci’s tone is dry, and she reaches up with her fingers, brushing them over her sternum as if signaling something. I follow her gaze back to Colt’s body.
Straining my eyes in the dim light, the wetness covering the back of his jacket becomes evident.Did she shoot him right through the chest?
“Let me see.” I turn, refocusing on Maci, and reach for her sweater to check the damage around her wound. A flash of reflective light catches my attention, and I halt. The hilt of the knife protrudes from her body. My eyes fly up to hers.
“What?” Her mouth tightens. “Is it that bad? It fucking hurts.” Her head drops back, and fire illuminates the wetness trailing down her cheeks.
It takes me too long to swallow and find the right words. “Maci, don’t move. The knife is still in you.”
“What!” Her body jolts as if she’s about to sit up, but she inhales sharply and freezes. Her voice cracks. “Take it out! I don’t want it in me. Please. Please.”
“I don’t think you should.” Nick’s calm voice comes from behind me. “It may be helping to stop the bleeding. You need to leave it.”
“Please, Sutton.” Her closed eyes pinch tighter and her fists clench at her sides. “I don’t want any part of him in me.”
My fucking chest hurts. I want to help her. I want to give her everything she wants and needs. But right now, I don’t think those two things are the same, and I don’t know how to tell her that she has to endure more than whatever I missed tonight. “I’m sorry. I can’t.” The words are painful.
She shakes her head vigorously, keeping her eyes pinned shut. It’s hard to tell in the light, but I think she’s getting paler. A fat tear rolls down her cheek.
“Fuck!” I look up at Nick. “How far is EMS?”
“Put pressure on it.” Nick jerks his chin toward Maci before speaking into the radio on his shoulder. I rip my overshirt off, wad it up, and press it against Maci’s injury.
A garbled voice responds and Nick echoes. “Five minutes.”
How long have I been here? Five minutes feels like an eternity.
With my free hand, I cup Maci’s face. Her green eyes pop open, shiny from tears. She’s beginning to shake like she has a fever. Either from shock or her injury, I don’t care. I just want her better already.
“You hear that, Firecracker? We’ll get you fixed up in no time.” I inch closer on my knees.
There’s blood on her cheeks. I don’t know who it belongs to. I don’t know anything.
Her eyes fall closed and her jaw tenses.
“Maci…”
“I’m okay.”
She’s far from okay. I can’t put into words that I need her to hang on. That she can’t leave me.
This wait is taking forever. Checking my watch is useless; it’s so dark I can’t make out the tiny lines. I roll my neck to release some of the tension, but that doesn’t help either.
Nick grips my shoulder from behind in solidarity.
Somehow, the blood thrumming loudly in my head, warring with the panic coursing through my veins, has ebbed, giving way to an eerie quiet. Logically, I know help is on the way, but right now it doesn’t feel like anyone knows we’re here. As the seconds tick by, my muscles continue to tighten bit by bit.
“You still awake, Firecracker?” I think she’s trying to control her emotions, compartmentalize, but she’s been quiet and still for longer than I’d like.