Page 102 of Walking in Darkness
Timothy hopped out and jerked open the rear passenger-side door. I angled out, shifting Aria around so I could keep her secure in my arms. My heart beat a thousand miles a minute, anxiety and alarm pooling thick in my consciousness.
Jill came around the back of the van as I was running for her, blinking in disbelief when she saw me carrying Aria, who was quickly bleeding out.
I didn’t want to recognize it, but I could feel it—her spirit fading.
“How are you here?” Grief twisted my mouth to the side as I demanded it, unable to fathom what the hell was happening.
Her head shook, clearly not able to fathom it, either. “I ... I don’t know. I haven’t slept since you broke her out, and the few times I did, I kept dreaming ... dreaming that I was supposed to be here. In this place. That I was supposed to be doingsomething.”
She moved toward the back of the van. I was right behind her as she flung open the double doors. Surprise rocked out of me when I saw it was set up as some kind of makeshift ambulance. A stretcher in the middle and a bunch of medical supplies sitting along the side.
“Get her inside. Hurry,” she urged, looking behind us toward the road that remained barren, the howling from the skies having ceased.
Didn’t find a whole lot of comfort in it. Figured the Kruen were satisfied that they’d gotten what they’d set out to do.
I lifted my leg high so I could get my foot on the end of the bed. I grunted as I hoisted us up into the back, cradling Aria as I bent over so I could stand beneath the van’s low roof, terrified one wrong move would make things worse.
Jill climbed in behind us, her demeanor purposed and sure even though I could feel the chaos radiating around her. I laid Aria on the stretcher, which was lifted from the floor a fraction.
Dani scrambled in behind her, and Timothy remained outside at the gaping doors.
I gripped Aria’s hand, looking at her face, which was a different kind of pale than normal.
Gray and ashen.
Her lips turning blue.
“Keep pressure on her wound. Push as hard as you can,” Jill instructed, already in action, placing the earpieces of a stethoscope into her ears and pressing the chest piece over Aria’s heart.
I let go of Aria’s hand and pressed both of mine over my tee, which was completely soaked in blood.
She listened for less than fifteen seconds. She tried to cover it, but there was no hiding the bleakness that filled her expression.
I moved so I was angled up close to Aria’s head, words tumbling from my mouth as I begged near her ear, “Hold on, baby. Stay with me. Stay right here. Listen to my voice. Help is here. Jill. You remember her? She helped us before when you were at the facility? Remember how grateful you were? How you felt seen by her? She’s right here. She came for you. You’re going to be okay.”
“What can I do?” Dani begged.
“Go to the end over there.” Jill gestured with her head toward the interior part of the van. “There’s a cooler. Get me a bag of blood stored in there.” She kept her voice even as she reached into a box and pulled out what looked to be supplies for an IV.
Dani squeezed around behind me, the space cramped and tight, our breaths heaving and raking in the confined area. Her hand slid over my shoulders as she passed. No question, she was trying to offer me comfort. To give me some hope in the middle of the torment.
“You.” Jill glanced at Timothy, who hovered at the door. “Get inside the driver’s seat in case we need to move her. Shut the doors so no one can see if they go by.”
“On it.” Timothy slammed the doors shut and, a second later, was sliding into the front seat while Jill pulled a plastic cover from off a long, thick needle. She leaned down, biting the inside of her cheek as she felt for a vein in Aria’s wrist. When she found one she could use, she pushed the needle through, then taped it into place.
“Here,” Dani said in a rush, passing her the bag of blood.
Jill pulled the cap off, attached the wire, then hooked it on a peg that jutted out up high on the van’s wall.
Red glided down the tube and into Aria’s arm, and Jill quickly added another bag, one that was filled with a clear solution; then she fumbled around to find something in another box. She produced another needle, which she injected into some nub down near the IV by Aria’s wrist as she mumbled, “Painkiller,” under her breath, keeping me apprised of what she was doing.
Then she ordered, “Switch places with me.”
I kept pressure on Aria’s abdomen, leaning down low as I swung over the stretcher at her legs to get to the other side.
Jill scooted around her front, coming to rest on her knees on Aria’s injured side.
She nudged my hands away and peeled back the sopping fabric.
