what now? | outerbanks

• fifty-one •

Kiara

    I don't remember falling asleep, but when I wake up, the pain is still there—dull now, but nevertheless persistent. My whole body feels wrung out, like I've been put through a meat grinder and barely made it out the other side. The shack is dim, but golden sunlight filters in through the cracks in the wooden walls, so I can tell I haven't been asleep for too long.
JJ is still next to me, head resting against my stomach, one arm draped over my waist like he's afraid I'll disappear if he lets go. His hand is still in mine, fingers locked in a grip so tight it almost hurts.
I shift slightly, trying to get comfortable, but even that small movement sends a jolt of pain through my leg. I suck in a sharp breath, which makes JJ stir instantly, his body snapping upright like he wasn't fully asleep in the first place.
His bagged eyes are wild and panicked for a second, scanning my face like he's afraid of what he'll find. Then, relief washes over his features.
"Hey," he breathes, his voice rough. He reaches out to brush the hair from my face, his fingers somewhat trembling and light. "You're awake."
I force a weak smile, looking up at him. "Didn't mean to scare you."
JJ huffs out a laugh, but it's shaky. "Too late; you already did."
I glance down at my leg, where Sarah's makeshift bandages are wrapped tightly around the wound. Dried blood stains the fabric in a coppery tone. "How bad is it?"
JJ swallows hard, his hand tightening over mine. "Pretty bad, but you're gonna be okay. I promise."
I nod, though I don't fully believe it. The wound still throbs, and every slight movement sends another wave of pain crashing through me, but I'm alive. That has to count for something.
Movement near the door catches my attention. Sarah and Cleo stand a few feet away, whispering in sweet, hushed voices. Pope and John B. sit on the floor, both looking exhausted. The lockbox still rests against John B.'s side, a reminder that, despite everything, the mission isn't over.
Sarah notices I'm awake and immediately steps forward, her eyes scanning my face just like JJ's did. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I got shot," I mutter, trying to shift again and immediately regretting it.
The blonde in front of me lifts her shirt some, revealing her gnarly scar—though it has healed some—and laughs a little. "Trust me, babe, I get it." Sarah kneels beside me, carefully peeling back the bandages to check the wound. I muster up enough energy to trail my fingers along the healing, reddish scar along her lower stomach. I wonder if maybe I'll have a big scar too. She exhales slowly, her brow furrowing. "Still bleeding a little," she murmurs, glancing up at JJ. "She needs actual medical supplies. This is only gonna hold for so long."
JJ's jaw clenches, but he nods. "We'll figure it out." I can tell, though, that he doesn't want to figure it out. He wants to stay here, just me and him, where nothing changes. He's afraid of any next steps.
Cleo steps forward, her expression blank and unreadable. "We should move. We've been here too long already."
I feel a spike of anxiety flow through JJ's fingertips into my skin at the thought of getting up, but I nod anyway. We don't have a choice.
JJ hesitates, trying to get me out of this. "She can't walk on her own."
"I'll help," Pope says immediately, pushing himself up. "We'll make it happen."
I swallow hard and force myself to sit up. The pain is immediate, sharp and unforgiving, but I grit my teeth and fight through it. I swallow down my screams so that it looks like I'm doing better than I really am.
JJ is there in an instant, one arm slipping under my shoulders, the other supporting my injured leg. "Slow, baby. I got you." I breathe through it, focusing on the feeling of his hands instead of the pain. We don't have time for weakness; we have to move.
    The arrival of evening air buzzes with bugs, and the humidity clings to my bandages as we step out of the shack. We move as quickly as we can without sending me into unbearable pain, and although it's not true, part of me feels like I'm holding the group back. JJ and Pope support me on either side, their grip firm but careful. Every step is agony, but I keep my mouth shut. I will not fall apart.
    John B. leads the way, the lockbox still tucked under his arm like it holds the answer to all our problems. Sarah and Cleo walk just behind him, their eyes constantly scanning between the darkened path ahead and the three of us behind them. The ocean crashes somewhere in the distance, and the sound makes me feel like we're being swallowed whole.
    Somewhere along the way, Sarah insists she'll die if she doesn't go pee. She says she's held it as long as she can, and that although she doesn't want to bother me, we need to stop. While we wait for her outside of a small shop, JJ lowers me onto a seat for a rest. It isn't a long rest, but it helps me catch my breath. Some twenty or so minutes later, we're back on our feet, sweat retracing our features.
    Finally, for once, I know how Sarah feels. I don't want to be left out or left behind, but my every move screams in protest. I just don't want to let anyone down, and my heart aches as it realizes what Sarah has been going through—why she's been having such a hard time.
    JJ leans in close, his breath warm against my ear. "You tell me if you need another break, okay?" I nod, but we both know I won't.
We move in near silence, only the occasional hiss of pain slipping through my teeth. Every muscle in my body screams at me to stop, to rest, but the urgency in everyone's movements keeps me going. I won't slow us down.
Sarah glances back, her eyes laced with empathy. "We're almost to the boat; just a little while longer."
John B. nods. "As soon as we get to the dock," he starts, speaking specifically to Pope and Cleo, "I need you guys to ask around. Someone's gotta know where we can go. It's too long of a walk to get back to Noel, but we need someone."
I tense. I'm scared of the doctors here; scared of the possible issues and complications. They'll have medical supplies, but getting somewhere new means crossing through town, and right now, we can't afford to be seen.
Pope must be worrying the same thing, remembering what happened last time we tried to make it through town. "We'll have to take the back roads. Less chance of running into anyone who'll ask questions."
Cleo snorts. "Or anyone who'll try to kill us." No one laughs, but I try to smile a little to make her feel better. I don't know if the smile actually makes it to my lips or not, but at least I'm trying.
The boat is docked at a wharf that stands alone, separate from all of the others. When we reach it, JJ moves fast, lifting me up onto the houseboat and keeping me cradled in his arms. He walks me to one of the sleeping quarters and carefully lays me in a bed. The second I'm down, my body sags in relief, exhaustion creeping in like a weighted blanket. JJ climbs to sit next to me on the edge of the bed, never daring to let go of my hand.
John B. helps Sarah in after, setting her softly into the boat and letting her take a breath. I watch them through a glass pane as John B. brushes sweaty strands of hair from her face and then rubs a protective hand down her belly. She looks beautiful, even in her exhaustion. There's something in her face, though, beneath that beauty—something anxious and taut.
I try to make out their conversation from inside the room.
"I just really want her to be okay," Sarah whispers, her voice nothing but emotional.
"I know, baby. I do too, but you need to calm down."
"I just—" She doesn't finish speaking, but I think I see a glistening tear fall down her cheek.
"It's not good for the baby," he says softly. "I just want you to both be okay, that's all."
JJ breaks me from watching, rubbing a comforting hand down my arm. "Don't worry about them," he tells me.
"I just hate that I'm the problem, you know? I'm supposed to be the easy one, but here I am, ruining all the plans."
"You? The problem? No way," he jokes. I giggle, but the movement immediately shoots knives through my leg.
"Stop making me laugh," I groan, throwing my head back into the pillow behind me. JJ leans down into me, kissing me on the lips in a slow, light rhythm, like if he does anything, more I'll break. Then, he backs up, his eyes hovering over me. He looks hollow.
"Don't do that," I murmur, rolling my eyes.
His brows furrow. "Do what?"
"Look at me like I'm dying."
JJ exhales, his free hand coming up to push my hair back. His touch is soft, but his fingers shake. "You scared the hell out of me, Kie."
I swallow the lump in my throat. "I'm okay." JJ doesn't look convinced, but I squeeze his hand for reassurance. "I'm going to be okay." He nods, but I can still see the fear lingering in his eyes. I don't know how to make it go away. So instead, I close my eyes and let the waves and his touch send me to a state of repose.