In my Blood

CHAPTER 56 - Bloody Hands

We all turn around. 

Newt's arms and legs thrash and kick against the concrete floor, his tortured screams and wails piercing my eardrums. Blood spills from his heaving chest as his face distorts in agony, black eyes squeezed shut and blood spraying from his open mouth. The ends of syringes stick out from different areas of his body, on his arms, neck and thighs. 

We run forward, yelling his name. Minho is quick to pin his flailing arms down as Frypan and I grab his legs, Gally and Brenda emptying the rest of the contents of the bag. Brenda begins to remove the syringes from his body. 

"I'm going to take out this knife!" Gally yells over Newt's screams. "When I do, Brenda, you need to put pressure on the wound until I can stitch it up!" 

Brenda tugs her jacket off, balling it up and hovering above Newt's chest. Gally nods, his blue eyes set in cold determination as he grits his teeth together and rips the blade from Newt's heart. The screams grow even louder as Brenda pushes the balled up jacket onto Newt's chest, stopping most of the bleeding while Gally prepares the stitching, using an old cloth and a needle from his rucksack. Tears spill from my eyes as I listen to the agonised shrieks coming from Newt's mouth, feeling his body shudder and struggle under my bloody hands. 

Gally's careful fingers don't even shake as he brings the needle up to Newt's skin, Brenda shifting the jacket slightly to the left yet still pressed to his skin. Where the knife had been lies a gaping red hole in the middle of Newt's chest, mangled flesh glistening with blood, bubbling out of the wound. I look away, biting down hard on my lip as bile rises in my throat. Newt's violent kicks grow stronger as I presume Gally stitches through his skin, his screams rattling through the cold night air while the muffled noises of chaos in the city sound around us. 

"Almost there, Newt! Just... hold on, buddy," Gally urges. I sneak a glance over to Newt's red chest, slippery with blood, watching Gally's fingers pulling together parts of his skin in a messy disarray of  mangled flesh. However, I can see how the flow of blood is beginning to escape his body with less violent desperation, slowing down ever so slightly as Brenda applies more pressure to the side of the wound. 

Five agonising minutes pass before Newt screams begin to fade, his breath shuddering and body twitching unnaturally once more. I challenge myself to look to his face, waxy and pale and glistening with sweat, and begin to notice his black eyes fluttering open ever so slightly. My heart begins to quicken; a glimmer of hope causing a slight, weak smile to form on my face. 

"Gally..." I breathe, "I think he's waking up..." 

Gally looks to Newt face, before muttering, "Oh, shuck."

"What's wrong?" Fry asks worriedly. "He's waking up, that's a good thing, isn't it?" 

"Yes, it's a good thing," Gally replies, a little irritably, "but Newt's still Infected. He wakes up, and soon he'll be just like he was before - if not worse, because of the added adrenaline in his body. It's the adrenaline that's keeping him alive, and it'll be the adrenaline which will make him turn worse. We need more Bliss." 

Without another word, I pass Gally a glass tube of the blue liquid, while he finishes off the stitching and Brenda prepares a syringe. He fumbles with the Serum for a second before taking the syringe and transferring the liquid. "Hold him down more," Gally mumbles darkly. The three of us get a tighter grip of Newt's arms and legs, nodding to Gally as he brings the needle up to Newt's arm, squeezing the syringe so the liquid disappears into Newt's arm. 

His whole body tenses, his chest pulsing and his face writhing in clear pain. Gally removes the syringe, preparing another dosage of the Bliss. Quickly, and without speaking, he injects it into the other arm, causing another wave of pain to take over Newt's body. He begins to groan, his groans growing louder and more animal-like until they transform into screams and shrieks. I feel the familiar burn of tears in my eyes as Newt's movements become more desperate, his legs thrashing. Gally swaps syringes again. He moves it towards Newt's neck.