3 | We Who Survive the Apocalypse | ✅

Chapter 13 - Shots

Kat finishes stitching up Izzy's wound, bandages it, and rises to her feet. "Well, there you go. That's all I can do. If we could find some antibiotics or something that would be good."

"Yeah, and some pain medicine, 'cause this whiskey ain't working so good," Izzy says, grunting as she stands, wobbling slightly. I reach out to help her, but she just swats me away, muttering that she's fine.

"Well, we obviously can't go anywhere right now," Seth says, "we don't know who's out there, or what they want."

"Then we'll probably starve to death, because somebody let all the food run out," Izzy grumbles, shooting a glare at him.

"Come on, Izzy," he mutters, rolling his eyes.

"I think I might have an idea of who it is," Doyle says, drawing everyone's attention, "those guys that jumped me and Rogan right after we all got separated."

"Yeah, they did that. Among other things," Rogan utters, an underlying tone of anger in his voice. "And she knows who they are, too," he adds, nodding at Izzy.

We all turn to her, expecting some clarification, some sort of explanation or information, but she just gives us an irritated look.

"What?"

Seth groans. "Come on, Izzy, just tell us something, okay? It's kind of important."

Before an argument between the pair can erupt, more gunshots ring out, the door splinters, glass shatters, and Doyle falls to the floor, pulling me with him.

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His eyes opened to a blue sky. A sharp throbbing filled his head, and he groaned, lifting a hand to his forehead. He felt the familiar roughness of stitches beneath his fingertips. The sound of rushing water filled his ears.

With a slight turn of his head, he saw a figure in dark clothing sitting not far from him, near the water's edge.

With a grunt and a terrible stab of pain through his skull, he struggled into a sitting position. His vision blurred momentarily, and his head swam, but he was determined to stay alert.

"About time, Carrots," the figure's hoarse voice drifted to his ears, "I need a favor."

His vision had cleared, and he saw now that the figure was his companion. Rogan. Who was, at that moment, chowing down on a raw fish.

"Are you...are you eating a...raw fish?" He asked, though he saw it happening right before his eyes.

Rogan nodded. "So juicy sweet."

It was then that he noticed the blood that stained Rogan's pants leg, and the tourniquet that bound the injured limb.

"You've been shot," He said. Ugh, why was he saying such obvious things? Must be the head injury.

"No shit, Carrots," Rogan replied, still focused completely on his rather odd meal. "So I'm gonna need you to dig the bullet out, sew it up."

"What? I can't do that!" He protested, too loudly, because it made his head ache even more, and he winced.

"You can," Rogan said simply, "just like I can drag your unconscious ass through the woods with a bullet in my leg, and still patch up your face."

"What happened back there exactly?"

Rogan shrugged. "They threatened. We retreated. They shot. You were hit - grazed. I wasn't so lucky." He abruptly threw the dead fish onto the rocky shore and, picking his teeth, he turned and said, "so, you gonna dig out this bullet or not?"

"I kinda need something to dig it out with...." He replied haltingly. He doubted he could dig a freaking bullet out of somebody's leg at all, even with the proper tools.

Rogan lifted an eyebrow, reached back and pulled a small knife out of his pocket. "This'll work."

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Oh my god! Three updates in one day??!! Makin' up for lost time, y'all! Trying to redeem myself.

Also, the second part of the chapter is a flashback. That's obvious. Ugh. I am tired now, so I'm gonna sleep, and hopefully tomorrow, I won't wake up with that enemy of all enemies, writer's block.

Also, did anyone get the Lord of the Rings reference?

Also, I say "also" too much. 😋