Page 169 of Bones
“You want me to take care of him?” Griz asked in a low voice as I passed him.
“I don’t care.”
“Bones!” Lem screamed. “I’m sorry! Please! No, don’t?—”
I flinched at the gunshot, but I didn’t stop.
* * *
I kept going and all the faces blurred together. I healed everyone I found unless I recognized one of Madame's guards who delighted in afflicting hurt. Most of the fighting seemed to be around the watchtower now. The sound of the machine gun rattled inside my rib cage. I didn't know who the rebels were, so I couldn't tell which side had the most dead bodies littering the ground.
I wasn't aiming for the watchtower, but as I followed the bodies, we got closer and closer. I froze when bullets peppered the ground around me. One grazed my arm before Griz grabbed me and dragged me between the buildings. As he peered around the edge, returning fire, I inspected the shallow wound. I used my teeth to tear a strip off my shirt, wrapping it around the wound and called that good. As the gunfire continued, I leaned against the side of the building and closed my eyes. Exhaustion swept through me, but I wasn't at burnout. Not yet.
“Bones?”
I opened my eyes to see Griz moving toward me. He took my arm, examining my sloppy bandage job. He looked worried.
“Your arm ok?”
“It’s fine. Shallow.”
He frowned. “You at burnout?”
I shook my head, pushing myself off the wall and ignoring the sharp look he gave me. I thought he might argue, but all he said was, “You stay behind me.”
We crept through the hold, heading toward the market. None of these bodies still breathed. I tried not to notice their faces, but I recognized people, people I’d healed, people whose names I knew. As we entered the market, a slight sound from one of the booths caught our attention. I moved forward, but Griz grabbed my arm and pulled me back behind him. I followed as he approached the booth, gun raised. He stepped inside, and a strangled cry rang out. Griz lowered his gun, eyes widening.
“Jax!” He dropped down out of my sight, and I darted into the booth after him.
Griz knelt beside Jax who sat propped up on the side of the booth. His shoulder oozed blood and based on the amount covering his shirt and the floor, it’d been bleeding for a while.
“Don’t scare me like that,” Jax mumbled. “Almost shot you.”
I glanced at his hand lying in the dirt and gripping a pistol.
“Sorry, kid,” Griz said, peeling his torn shirt back to get a look at the wound. “Looks like the bullet’s still in there.”
I crouched, nudging Griz out of the way.
“Bones?” Jax’s eyes widened as he scanned me. “Your face?—”
“It’s fine,” I interrupted, placing my hands over the wound on his shoulder and trying to ignore how much he looked like Dune.
“Where’s Mac?” Griz asked.
“Watchtower,” Jax rasped. “Madame’s holed up in her office.”
Thank the gods the bullet hadn't come out. It probably saved his life, preventing him from bleeding out. My healing power warmed my cold hands as I watched the bullet push its way out of Jax's skin until it dropped into the dirt. A couple of seconds later only a pink scar remained.
“That’s so fuckin’ weird,” Griz breathed, and I glanced at him to see awe on his face. He’d seen me heal a lot of wounds, but seeing a bullet come out by itselfwassomething else to behold.
I sat back on my heels, tucking my icy shaking hands between my thighs. Jax touched the new scar on his shoulder with just the tips of his fingers, his eyes even wider.
“You ok to walk?” Griz asked him.
“I think so,” he said, giving me a hesitant smile. “Thanks, Bones.”
The machine gun started going off again, making all of us jump.
