Page 96 of Captured Immune

“We don’t have time for that. Just leave me. You were right earlier.I’mthe one they’re tracking, not you. So you need to get into that guy’s car and?—”

“No!” I shout over the constant beeping. My body trembles with a sob as I grab his hand and pin it against the floor. “I’mnotleaving you! No matter what you say, I’m not! So you can either keep fighting with me and waste time, or you can just let me stop the bleeding!”

He stares at me with his mouth slightly open and his eyes dazed. Once he realizes this is a fight he won’t win, he gives me a curt nod. Then he flops onto his back and sucks in a sharp breath. “Be quick.”

I’m still crying as I cut the jeans off his body with scissors from the first aid kit. Once they’re off, I toss the denim aside. His entire leg is dripping with blood. Some of the red has soaked his boxers too. Ignoring the queasy feeling in my belly, I pour an entire bottle of hydrogen peroxide over his wound.

“Fuck!” Trey chomps on his bottom lip as he groans through his teeth.

“I’m sorry,” I say as I clean off as much red from his leg as I can with antiseptic wipes. Honestly, I don’t even know if this is what I should be doing. I’m a professional with Band-Aids over the knee on children, but this?

A few minutes later, I have Trey’s thigh wrapped in gauze and medical tape as tight as I can get it. Hopefully, the pressure will keep the bleeding at bay for now. Once I’ve got him on his feet and leaned against the wall for support, I go dig through Dennis’s pockets. In the first pocket I shove my hand into, I find a set of keys.

When I turn back around, Trey has hobbled over to his jeans and is emptying the pockets, shoving all his stuff into his jacket pockets. Then he tosses the bloody jeans aside and throws a fireball at them. “Okay, let’s go.”

23

ARELLA

We’re parkedat the side of a Walmart. The sun blazes high in the sky, making Dennis’s car hot. We’re almost out of gas, so I don’t want to waste it on air conditioning. I’d roll the windows down, but I can’t risk someone looking in and seeing that I’ve got a bloody man sleeping in the front seat.

A while later, I’m halfway through eating a banana when Trey finally stirs and blinks his eyes open.

“Morning,” I say.

He sits up, adjusting the seat with him as he squints out the bright window. “Where are we?”

“Walmart.” I swallow down the rest of my banana, then toss the peel into a plastic bag with my sandwich and granola bar wrappers already in it.

“Where exactly is this Walmart?”

“Barstow, California—according to the signs I passed on the way in.” When we left the burning gas station, my only goal was to get as far away from it as possible, so I drove without knowing where I was going. As far as I can tell, I took us in the general direction of Las Vegas...I hope.

“Barstow,” Trey repeats. “I think that’s still another two or three hours from Vegas.”

I tear a banana off the bunch and hold it out to him. “Want one?”

He accepts the fruit from me, then peels it open and takes a small bite.

“Does your body naturally heal faster than an Ordinary’s?” I ask.

“Yep. Zordis heal during sleep, just like Ordinaries, but much faster.”

“I see that. The bruises on your face are almost gone. I can tell where they were, but it looks like what my bruises look like after a week. Is your special healing thing powerful enough to fix broken ribs or a deep thigh wound?”

He groans as he takes another bite of the banana. “I fucking wish.”

“Are you hungry for anything else?” I reach back to grab the other three grocery bags from the backseat. I dig through one as I say, “I’ve got a sandwich, granola bars, chips, apples, and water. If there’s anything else you’d like, I can run back in to grab it.”

“I’ll take a water, please.”

I pull out a bottle and hand it over.

Trey chugs it all in one breath, then scarfs down the rest of his banana. He tosses the peel into the same bag I tossed mine in.

I pluck an apple from the food bag. “Here.”

He shakes his head. “I should take it slow. I haven’t eaten much for days.”

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