The whole world kind of stilled as the man stood over her. April knew she should be feeling panic, should be scrambling for her life – but she felt like her body was too heavy to move, and everything was kind of fuzzy at the edges. It all felt like a dream state. Have I already died? She wondered. No, everything hurt too much still.
Acceptance. That’s what she was feeling at that very moment, a kind of peace with dying. Then the peace was shattered when the man – her attacker – was no longer standing over her, but instead dangling from the grasp of a man she did recognize, which had to mean this was real.
Flinching as the gunshot sounded, April knew she wasn’t going to die – at least not at that man hands. No, Brandon had saved her. Through the chaos of voices in her mind she heard someone talking about her and mustered what little energy she had to laugh softly, though it came out as more of a cough.
Her eyes wanted to drift closed, but as he kneeled next to her and began calling, she found her voice and murmured. “Hey,” proving she was still conscious. “And no, I don’t think I’m okay.” Her voice was quiet, maybe too quiet for him to hear – but she couldn’t find the energy to speak loudly.
I may be dying. The thought flickered across her mind as she fought against the urge to slip into the darkness that was calling to her, forcing her eyes open again. “Can’t walk,” she whispered. “And I’m really sleepy.”
So sleepy.
“I’m losing too much blood….” The panic was evident in the tone. And Lucas isn’t here. It felt like her zombie bite all over again. She was injured and scared and Lucas wasn’t here, but this time it wasn’t her choice. I didn’t run. Not this time.
With wide panic filled eyes, April met Brandon’s gaze as she spoke. “D-don't let me die, please.”