The medic in me overtook my priorities.
“We need to get you back, immediately. Let's go buttercup.” I instructed. The probability he was bleeding internally from the fall was high, but I kept my thoughts to myself as my medical instincts and training heightened. His breathing became more and more labored with each step we took away from the tunnels and into the thick of the woods. Angel watched our back, whining every so often, while we continued walking at a snail's pace.
Curtis was beginning to become more lethargic and everyone around him noticed. Carson rolled his shoulders and glared at him, indecisive about offering him help again.
With the attitude he’s been giving us, I didn’t blame him. But we couldn’t just leave the guy for dead here, not when we just fought to keep the bastard alive. I didn’t forget the fact that he looked over Angel when she was first hit.
Internally sighing at what I had to do once more, I lifted him onto my unhurt shoulder and began to carry him. He continued coughing next to my face. I could feel mucus falling onto my shoulder after every one of his coughs.
“Look, bastard, you aren't allowed to die,” I growled. “Not after all we have gone through together.”
The sun’s rays peeked through the branches and leaves, highlighting us every so often with its warmth. How were those vampires out and about during the day? We hadn’t come across too many Letos on this side of the world, but rumors about their common physical traits were whispered among human settlements enough that it was impossible to miss.
Could this clan actually have the ability to walk in daylight and we just didn’t know it?
Curtis groaned when my foot dipped into lower terrain, jostling him on my shoulder.
“Listen, Brother, let’s get you up out of here.” I pointed up to the sky. “We are only a few miles away from food, a nice bath and sleep. There’s still plenty of sun in the sky.”
“Yeah, not too much further,” Amir added.
“I hoped to see the outside again before it was my time,” Curtis coughed.
We weren't too far from camp, I would not let him die like all the others had. We were just going to have to explain to Dean that the mission was a wash. A life was more important than supplies. With every step closer to camp, I knew Curtis was beginning to lose the battle. My body ached after carrying this two-hundred pound man for several miles but I tried my best to keep him talking.
“So, what's your favorite type of woman? What can't you wait to do when you get back to camp?”
Before he could drum up a response, his body went limp and he was unresponsive. I cursed under my breath.
“We got to move faster, he’s out!” I told the other guys. We all increased our speed and Angel ran ahead of us barking a few times. “Stay with us, Curtis!”
The moment we saw the huts come into view, we all got a second wind.
“Is that Vik?” came a voice from our camp.
“Who’s that on his shoulder? Didn’t he go out with two?”
My chest was aching with how hard I was breathing. I wasn’t going to make it to the medical hut. I stopped in my tracks and lowered him as best I could. Amir and Carson were at my side assisting him onto the ground.
“Help! Get the other medic!” I called out. “He isn't breathing!”
I needed my tools, I needed them now! The supplies I had on my person wasn’t going to be enough for this damage. Angel barked, calling for help from the camp, alerting the other members of the resistance.
Finally a few people were running our way.
“Did you guys run into vampires out there?” one resident asked.
“What the hell happened? Who is this guy?” another one of the residents questioned, but I couldn’t listen to them. My mind was solely focused on Curtis and the minutes clicking by since his last intake of breath.
“I can save him. I can save him,” I repeated under my breath as I tore open his shirt and clasped my hands together over his sternum, shoving my body weight down in a rhythmic pattern.
Every so often, I stopped, tilted his head up, pressed his nose shut and blew air into his lungs to assist with bringing breath back into him.
I could hear the buzz of a small gathering around us, watching as I continuously checked his pulse and continued my movements. A few more pumps, breath into his mouth and I checked his pulse again. But there was nothing.
Hopelessness tore at my soul as guilt filtered through my veins and pores, consuming me in a darkness that was always on the brink of my sanity. I beat the ground with my fists until pain shot through my flesh and up my arm as my knuckles busted open from the repeated beating. When one of the onlookers placed his hand on my shoulder in a show of comfort, it only added to the weight I already felt on my shoulders. The weight I carried with every death that happened under my watch. Comfort was an impossibility.
Dead body after dead bodies—blood stained my hands.
