3 | We Who Survive the Apocalypse | ✅

Chapter 20 - Death

Kat groans as Doyle examines the wound in her stomach. "Just leave it alone. There's no point in messing with it, I know these things, and...."

They exchange a somber glance, and Kat shakes her head. Doyle nods, pulling Kat's shirt and coat back down, his lips held together in a firm line.

"What about Mara?" He asks, tucking his fiery hair behind his ears.

Kat exhales heavily. "My best guess? Labor. Premature, probably. Don't quote me on that though. I know more about gunshots and stab wounds than the miracle of life."

Doyle glances over his shoulder at me, his face expressing the panic that clutches my throat. What are we going to do? None of us know anything about delivering babies - except for maybe Kat, who might have some idea, but she's in no state to do anything. Breathing is becoming a struggle for her.

"What should we do?" Hudson voices my concern for me, turning to look back at Mara and Rogan.

"First thing?" Kat groans, trying to sit up straighter, "common sense. Get her somewhere better than the fucking woods. A building or something. Get it as warm as possible. Hot water for cleanliness. Find blankets."

She grimaces, gasping and clutching at her side. Doyle's hand flies to her shoulder, rubbing it slightly.

"It's okay, just breathe, just breathe," he murmurs, but she turns a sharp glare on him.

"It's not okay, dumbass. And it fucking hurts to breathe," she snaps. He withdraws his hand, and her expression softens. "I know you're just trying to help. Sorry."

"It's fine, you're...."

"Dying? Yeah, I figured. Anyway, I need to finish giving instructions," with a shaky breath, she continues, "it's gonna get gross, complicated. Nobody ever said this stuff was great. Brace yourselves, boys."

Hudson pales, gulping, his eyes wide as they flicker over to me. But I'm just as freaked out as he is.

"Time the contractions. The closer together they are, the closer she is to having the kid. One of you will have to measure her dilation. Do any of you know how to do this?"

As all three of us shake our heads, she groans.

"Fuck, of course not." She proceeds to explain the procedure and by the end, Hudson looks a bit green, but adrenaline has pushed my panic aside. We can do this. We can do it.

"When the baby comes, you'll have to cut the chord. Clamp it with two clamps, then cut between them. Otherwise...well, just don't do it any other way." She pauses, breathing heavily.

"Look, you do realize there's a chance neither one of them will survive this? I won't go into it, but there are so many things that could go wrong. I won't...I won't be there to help, you'll have to do it on your own."

"No, Kat, you're gonna be fine," Doyle says, his tone desperate.

She scoffs, then winces. "Stop kidding yourself and get all of these idiots somewhere far away from this place."

"I can't just leave you here," he protests, his voice breaking, and I can't help but grasp his hand.

"You don't wanna have to lug my dead ass around - I mean, you've got Seth, who's obliterated, and Mara, who's gonna shove a human out of her vagina, and Rogan, who has been stabbed, to worry about. I'm as good as gone." She sighs. "I can feel myself bleeding, Doyle, inside. My insides are bleeding. I'm not gonna live. And it's fine. It's not like there's much to live for anymore, anyway."

He nods, his shoulders trembling with suppressed sobs, and he clutches my hand tightly.

"It's fine. Really. I've had more than my share of living. Seriously, I'm only twenty and I've been married and divorced before. Ran off when I was fifteen, remember? Fake IDs, Dad and the boys chasing after me. They wanted to kill him, even though it was my idea."

A tearful laugh escapes Doyle's lips. "I remember. I was only, what, twelve? Didn't have a clue what was happening."

"I never wanted to get old, anyway. I like my boobs the way they are, thanks." She laughs softly, her voice becoming steadily quieter, weaker.

There's just silence as she slowly fades, her breaths becoming shallow and her eyes losing their focus.

Finally she murmurs, "tell her I'm sorry. Mara. That I hurt her. And you too, Concussion Man." Her bright eyes turn dazedly on Doyle, and she whispers, "Goodbye."

And then her eyes are clouded, and she's gone.

+++++

Okay, just had to tell you that when I typed in "Mara", I wrote "Amara" instead. I have been watching way too much Supernatural.

Have I made a terrible mistake?

Ughhhh.....