Page 122 of Wicked Duty
More gunfire erupts above me. My consciousness begins to slip like water from a rooftop, and cold creeps in quickly. I’m losing blood. Though everything in me wants to spring to my feet, my body won’t budge.
Voices continue filling the room. They sound so far away, like I’m underwater.
Lucy drifts into my frame of vision, falling to her knees to reach me.
Water spills over her cheeks. The tangy scent of iron fills my nostrils.
Time moves all at once, too slow and too fast.
Warm tears sprinkle my face. I focus on Lucy’s pretty mouth as it moves, but her words never reach my ears.
My consciousness dips down into a very black space. In this strange half-state, I cling to reality. Not dead but not living. I can’t move. Can’t hear. But at least I can see her face.
That beautiful face.
Pain sears my heart.
Lucy sobs. Darren and Veronika appear above her, stricken.
I wish I could tell them,Relax,it’s not the first time I’ve been shot, but my mouth won’t work.
Maybe I really am dying.
Events unfold like a silent film.
Jerky. Surreal.
Lucy continues to cry. Paramedics rush in to load me on a stretcher.
A needle pricks my skin. A machine beeps. The pain recedes.
Low whispers. Hushed sobs.
Lucy.
The last thought I have before succumbing to the darkness is about Lucy.
I love her, and now she may never know.
Chapter 47
Callum
A small eternity of deep, dark black emptiness cocoons me.
But the beeping I can detect from behind and around me assures me I’m still alive.
Soon, voices filter through my foggy brain.
“Came through surgery well.”
“He’s a fighter.”
“When will he wake up?”
Lucy.
“Any time now.”
