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“Doesn’t mean you still won’t bleed out on me. I can’t hold off all the rotters with both of you passed out from blood loss and open wounds.”
“You’ve got Max out there.”
“He’s probably too busy playing.” Now that the wound is as clean as I can get it, I hold the rag against it and look up at William. “He’s fine out there on his own, isn’t he? I don’t think he realizes that the two of you are down.”
“One of us is down, and it’s not me.” He uses a second water bottle to clean off his arm and show me the cut. It doesn’t look as bad as I feared, but it’s still an open wound. Get some rotter blood mixed in there and he’ll be a goner in no time. I can’t lose both of them, too.
“Do you think you’ll need stitches?”
William nods toward Griffin. “Stitch him up first and then we’ll see what we have left to work with. I can get away with none, but I don’t think he can.”
Footsteps sound from outside, and we both pause what we’re doing and look at each other, neither of us daring to make a sound. When the door flies open, I jump and lose my footing before landing in William’s lap, my hands still holding the cloth to Griffin’s wound. William’s good arm wraps around my waist, holding me against him, while his other hand brandishes a knife out in front of us.
“You didn’t want to invite ‘ole Maxy to the party? I even played music for you.” The hurt in his expression fades when he sees Griffin lying on the seat. “Is he…”
“No, he’ll be fine. It’s a cut. A deep one, but once I stitch it up, he should be alright.”
Max glances over his shoulder. “Think you can stitch him up in about fifteen seconds?”
William’s arm turns to steel around me, his voice low and threatening. “Why?”
“See, the rotters destroyed that car. No more music. It also drew in a whole dead party dance club, so now we have to get out of here and we don’t have a car, unless someone has finally learned how to hot-wire one.” He rushes over to the driver’s seat of the van and then curses when he can’t find a key.
William curses and lets me go. “Grab the kit and any water or other supplies you can grab.”
“We can’t just leave Griffin here.”
He bends down and scoops up Griffin like the large muscular man weighs nothing. “I’ve got him. Stay in front of me. Max, you lead the way, head for the trees.”
Max salutes William before grabbing my wrist and pulling me out of the van behind him. I barely snatch up the first aid kit first. Rotters are everywhere, the sight nearly enough to freeze me in place if I wasn’t being dragged away.
We move quickly and silently, keeping low and out of sight while weaving between cars until we can make a beeline for some tree coverage. There’s a small town on the other side which we have to step over a pile of rotters to get to. I assume the ones that William lead away from the van before coming back for us.
A rotter pops out at us from the side and I swing my knife around, stabbing it through the skull. It falls to the ground as quickly as it had appeared. Max winks at me before swinging his morning star in a circle through the air in front of him and moving toward the town. There isn’t a single other rotter in sight. At least not now.
Griffin, looking so helpless lying on top of an abandoned general store counter, is something I wouldn’t have minded seeing several days ago. But now, I hate it. I wanted to get away from him so badly, from all of them, but now I can’t imagine walking away while any of them are in such awful shape.
He still hasn’t woken up. William carried him all the way to this little abandoned town, and he was out like a light the whole time.
“I’ve only ever seen this many rotters on the outskirts of cities before. I didn’t even know they could travel in herds like that.” William sets down an armful of bottles on the counter behind Griffin’s head. He scoured the store for supplies—especially pain killers—while I worked on stitching up Griffin’s side.
“How’s your arm?” I ask while I lay out the supplies I’ll need.
He holds up his arm to show me the horrible bandage job he did. He’d grabbed a random shirt on the ground and wrapped it around his arm before doing a lap around the exterior of the general store to make sure there were no rotters lurking about. “I’ll go gather some more. I don’t know what all we’ll need, but we’re not leaving anything behind.”
“Sit.” When he does nothing but raise an eyebrow at me, I place both my hands on his shoulders—which is impressive considering he’s at least a foot taller than me—and push him down until he’s sitting on the small rickety stool that groans. I suck in a breath and wait for the stool to fall apart beneath his vast frame, but it doesn’t.
“Don’t worry about me, Emily. Griffin needs taken care of first.” I barely hear his words. His shoulders are so broad, his chest so defined. His knees open up, drawing me in between his thighs. My palm slides down to his peck, beneath which his heart beats forcefully.
“He’s stable. His pulse is strong.” I look into his pale blue eyes that seem to light up when they look at me. “Can I trust you to stay put while I stitch him up, and then I’ll take care of you?”
One corner of his mouth quirks up. “Stitch him up, Em. I can bandage myself. Don’t worry about more than you need to right now.”
“I worry about everyone. It’s what I do.” Pushing away from his intoxicating closeness, I turn around and get to work, threading a needle. Max is outside digging holes to build fires in, as a barrier to keep the rotters out, so I know we’re safe in here for the time being. Though I can’t help but worry about Max out there alone. Not that any of us can go help him. I could, but not until I patch up Griffin. Asshole as he is, I still don’t want him to die.
As if summoned by the thought, Max shouts out. I lift my head to look out the window and smile when I see Max chasing Buddy around with a stick hanging out of his mouth. When Max finally gets the stick back, he tosses it into the hole and kneels down to get a fire started, but then Buddy takes another stick out and runs with sparks from the stick, shooting out behind him. Max curses and chases him again.
“Everyone, huh?” William asks, and I pull myself from the sight and continue my work.
