Page 64 of Massacre
“Hurry, Arsyn. Please fucking hurry,” I cried as tears streamed down my face. “He’s dying. I can’t let him die.”
“I’m on my way,” I heard Arsyn quickly say. “I’m coming!”
Arsyn’s words gave me a glimmer of hope as I continued my frantic efforts to revive Massacre. I refused to accept that he could be gone; not like this. He deserved happiness.
The warehouse echoed with my cries as I worked, my hands slick with his blood, my heart pounding in my ears. I couldn’tlose him, not after everything he’d sacrificed. I thought of my daughter and the bond she had formed with Massacre. How could I tell her that he was gone? That I had failed to protect him?
As the minutes ticked by, each one felt like an eternity. Where was Arsyn? I refused to stop my desperate attempts to bring him back, my hands moving frantically as I pumped his chest and tried to will life back into his body. I screamed his name, my voice hoarse and raw, but there was no response.
My mind raced with questions.
Who had done this to him? Why?
And what did Morpheus mean by ‘a life for a life’?
Panic was setting in. I checked his pulse again, my hands shaking.
Still nothing. I pumped his chest harder, my arms burning with the effort. “Come on, Massacre. You can do this. You owe me your damn life, so you better start fighting!” I yelled, my voice echoing in the empty warehouse.
I glanced around, my eyes wild, searching for anything that could help. My gaze landed on a stack of old crates. I ran over and started tearing them apart, looking for something, anything, that could be of use. Finding a sharp piece of wood, I rushed back to Massacre’s side. I positioned the wood between my hands and placed it over his heart, using it to push down harder on his chest. I had to get his heart beating again.
I refused to accept any other outcome.
“You’re not dying today, Massacre. Do you hear me? I won’t let you go like this!” I gritted my teeth and continued the compressions, my arms screaming in protest.
Time felt like it had stopped, and I had no idea how long I’d been working to save him. My clothes were soaked with his blood, and my hands were cramping, but I refused to give up.
“Stay with me, damn it!” I yelled, my voice hoarse and raw.
The sound of a helicopter in the distance pulled me back to the present.
Arsyn was here.
I had to keep going, to buy her the time she needed to get to us. With renewed determination, I continued my desperate struggle to bring Massacre back from the brink, my eyes fixed on his lifeless form, refusing to accept that he was gone.
The sound of the helicopter grew louder, filling me with a surge of relief. Arsyn was here, and with her, my hope for Massacre’s survival. I gritted my teeth, my hands moving frantically as I continued the compressions, refusing to accept defeat. The sharp piece of wood dug into my palms, but I ignored the pain, focusing all my energy on bringing him back. I couldn’t lose him; my daughter would never forgive me if I did.
The helicopter’s roar filled the warehouse, I felt a rush of wind as it landed outside. I didn’t stop, knowing that every second counted. I had to keep going until Arsyn was by my side. My arms burned, and my voice grew hoarse from screaming, but still, I continued, my eyes fixed on Massacre’s pale face.
Then finally I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Val, move. I got this.” Arsyn’s voice was calm but urgent. I stepped back, my body trembling, as she worked to revive Massacre.
“He’s lost a lot of blood,” Arsyn said, her voice steady and calm. “We need to get him to the helicopter. Can you help me carry him?”
I nodded, my throat tight with unshed tears as several bikes rolled up and moments later, Reaper, King and several brothers rushed into the warehouse, guns at the ready.
“Holy mother of God,” someone gasped as the men stopped and stared at the man covered in blood, lying lifeless on the concrete floor.
Bane rushed over to help Arsyn, and I couldn’t take my eyes off Reaper, my eyes welling with tears.
I didn’t want to be the one to tell him I tried and failed. That despite my efforts, I wasn’t good enough, strong enough, smart enough to save Massacre.
“He’s got a pulse!” Arsyn shouted as my head whipped toward her and Bane, who were both frantically working to save his life.
“He needs a level-1 trauma center,” Bane stated as he helped Arsyn get Massacre ready to move.
“The best one is in Denver,” Arsyn admitted.
“That’s close to four hours away,” Blade informed.
