𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 | 𝟏𝟖+

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟐

The moment my eyes open, I am greeted with the searing pain in my left ass cheek. I'd normally think nothing of it, but as I twist my body on the mattress to assess the wound—I'd have to be blind not to see the obvious swelling that occurred overnight. Pain and swelling are the first signs of infection, and if that fact wasn't so scary, I think I could probably appreciate that I look like I actually have an ass.

Puffing short breaths through my lips, I peel my jeans down just enough to confirm what I already knew before pulling them right back up. The area is red, like lobster red. Not only am I a distant cousin to the Kardashians, but now I'm also Larry the Lobster.

Fuck.

I plop my head down on the mattress with a huff and let my hands fall limp by my sides. Redneck boy probably impaled me with a rusty arrow, one that I'd love to shove in his eye right about now. An infection like that can only improve with antibiotics, which I most definitely didn't have a running supply of. Nor did I know where to find one.

I'd scream, but it would prove to be pointless.

Pushing myself up from the floor, I wince as the pain shoots down my leg and up my back. It feels like my heartbeat is hammering where he lodged the bolt in my ass, and I have to place my hand on the nearest wall to steady myself. Nausea floods through my veins before I can attempt to fight it off, and I swallow the lump in my throat in hopes of pushing it back down. My neck hairs prickle as heat creeps up my skin toward my ears.

"What are you doin'?"

I lift my head and groan to see redneck boy staring at me like I have three eyes.

"Where is the Doc?" I ask, completely ignoring him.

I'm not sure what he says because my stomach churns deeply, making me clamp my mouth shut as I hold my breath, lean against the wall, and wait for the wave of queasiness to pass. Tunnel vision takes over my eyes for a moment, and my ears ring faintly. I'd rather pass out than vomit, and I pray it comes as my forehead pricks with sweat.

"Josie."

I look in the direction of the voice, and as my vision clears, Hershel is standing in front of me with his brows furrowed in concern. His hands hover in the air as if to catch me, and I realize I'm swaying a bit.

"You wouldn't happen to have any antibiotics lying around, would you?" I say.

"It's infected." It's a statement.

And the sky is blue.

The swell passes, and I'm left with the sticky sweat that clings to my body from it. I know that feeling—I'm getting a fever. The infection is further along than I had expected. With a swift nod, I push from the wall and wipe the back of my hand across my forehead. Amidst my temporary blindness, the rest of the group has gathered in the room, and now they're sharing a look with each other that just fuels the annoyance pumping through me.