Wanted: Undead or Alive

It's Fine

While everyone busied themselves shackling and disarming the prisoners, I vomited and managed to crawl away from the mess which left me pouring sweat and shivering with cold. My vision blurred in and out of focus. Probably that was a bad thing.

Rider approached cautiously. He sat beside me in his blood-soaked shirt and stroked my hair and told me again and again not to worry, that everything would be fine.

The more he repeated it, the more worried I became. Mostly to make him stop, I asked about his injuries. To my own ears, I sounded like I was talking underwater.

He pulled up his torn shirt and showed me his hairy belly. "Good as new. It'll take more than an arrow to the gut to take me out."

Too bad Leigh and Atlas couldn't say the same.

The nausea started to return. I laid my head down on Rider's shoulder, closed my eyes, and focused on remaining as still as possible in hopes of avoiding another bout of vomiting. I guess I fell asleep.

I woke up to a low, angry voice. "Why didn't anyone tell me she was hurt?" Apparently, Nick had arrived.

"She's hanging on," Rider said. "We knew you'd make your way over here soon. The others have needs, too."

"Nowicki?" Nick's voice laid over me like a warm blanket. "Open your eyes."

"Don't wanna," I mumbled.

Was that a chuckle? Kind of rude to laugh at a girl when she's down.

"My guess is internal bleeding." Rider was whispering as if the person with their head on his shoulder wouldn't be able to hear. "It's not just blood, Nick. Something... popped."

Ew. Acid rose in my throat. I willed it back down.

"Nowicki? Come on, now. Open your eyes," Nick said.

I forced my eyes open. The world spun. I threw up all over Rider and burst into tears. Throwing up hurt. Crying hurt. Everything in the world was pain.

To his credit, Rider just propped me up and steadied me. "Don't worry. Everything's going to be fine."

Nick squatted directly in front of me. His handcuffs were gone. Only angry red welts remained around his wrists. He glowed like an incandescent lightbulb and his eyes sparked and popped. Looking at him made my head hurt.

Over his shoulder, I saw Leigh standing up, rubbing a hand over the bloody hole in his shirt. He watched me with wide, terrified eyes.

When I looked at Nick again, a little tingle warmed the space between my legs. That's it? Dang, I really am hurt bad. "You're going to be in trouble again." My voice sounded like I'd recently had a snack of crushed glass and sand.

"Where does it hurt?"

"Everywhere."

"Can you be more specific?"

"I hit my back."

He shifted to the side of me and lifted the back of my shirt a little. His hands moved slowly across my lower back and up one side. In the quietest possible whisper, he spoke rapidly in a language I didn't recognize. A sensation halfway between pain and tickling radiated through my core and made my limbs twitch.

When Nick drew back and stood, he was so bright I couldn't stand to look directly at him. "Better?" He asked.

I stretched a little to the left and right. Not only was the pain gone, I felt better than I had in... well.. in six months, I guessed. "Yeah. All good." His relief flooded through me. Oh, geez. Not this again.