Fangs | mlm

Chapter 29 - Back from the dead

Trevor opened his eyes only to close them shortly after. But when he opened them again, he woke up in an unfamiliar dimension: he couldn't see anything more than shapes and silhouettes, let alone faces and characteristics. Everything was like in a fog. He didn't know why, nor did he know where he was. Most of his senses had left him and didn't return yet. He felt hopeless and lost.

And then his eyes began to sting, so he had to blink a couple times to ease the pain. He soon felt tears welling up in his eyes. The fog became more of a water curtain then. So he noticed people sitting and standing in front of him. He couldn't distinguish many details from their faces, nor could he tell whose they were. Who are these people?

Yet when he blinked one more time, something began to change. His lungs yearned for air, and the moment he took a deep breath, something burnt inside him, making him wince from pain. He'd ask himself: What is happening to me? He couldn't remember what had happened at all. Did he die? It couldn't be the truth.

At this point, a voice sounded in his ears, "Trevor, can you hear me?" It was a woman, and she was calling his name. He'd ask himself: How does she know what my name is?

He realised why after his other senses came back. Apparently, he had been given a jacket, sat on the fresh snow, and leaned against a tree. Eleonora was kneeling inches from him, pressing a shirt to the wound, while William was standing nearby and watching. And it was bright here—the sun had already risen. He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't speak. His throat was dry, as if in flames.

Eleonora turned to William. "Hand me the water bottle. And come hold this." She let the brunet drink, while stroking his cheek with her hand. She was smiling at him then. Meanwhile, William kept applying the pressure so that Trevor wouldn't lose more blood than it was necessary.

When he stopped drinking, the pain hit him again. It was like a wave coming from his leg and spreading throughout his body. And there was this strange heat in the spot where he'd been shot, like someone put hot iron to it. For a moment, his skin burnt so much he had to close his eyes.

"Hey, stay awake, Trevor," Eleonora said, inching close.

Trevor coughed, hoping he wouldn't cough out blood. Only then did he manage to say, "I'm not going to sleep," though his voice was hoarse and weak. "The pain is killing me."

"Okay, go on. How strong is it?" she asked.

"Oh, like a nine? Or am I overreacting?"

She shook her head. "No, it's fine. We need to know how much time we have left."

He frowned immediately, unable to tell whether in surprise or in pain. "What do you mean?"

She sighed. "I'm not sure, Trevor. We're in the middle of fucking nowhere. If-if it gets worse, we'll have to figure something out."

"You mean it may get worse?"

"Yes. That's exactly what I mean," she agreed. "You've been shot. A gunshot wound isn't something we can just ignore. And it isn't something that's going to heal easily."

"So what're we going to do then?"

She licked her lip. "I wish I didn't have to say, 'I don't know.' We can't go to a hospital, can we?"

"Why?"

"Oh, you want me to start pointing out why? Firstly, the engine stopped working. Besides, the car looks like a Swiss cheese. Secondly, everyone thinks you've been either kidnapped or killed. If you show up at a hospital with a gunshot wound in your leg, they'll get suspicious. They'll start looking for suspects. Your kidnappers. Well, maybe it's not the best word, as it's us in this case. We're not your kidnappers."