Hugh raises his voice. “But you’ve shot him three times. You said it yourself. You can’t beat him.”
Fassbender stiffens. “I will find a way.”
Flustered, I fall back against the flora. I try to land on my palms, but my elbows hit a few twigs.
Crack.
Turin’s face is horrified. “Get into my arms. We need to run,” he states.
He picks me up and lunges throughout the forest.
Eyes open, I watch Fassbender realize I’m not dead. I’m very much still alive, and very much still a threat.
Fumbling his weapon, he takes aim. This time, it’s not a tranq gun. It’s a Glock pistol.
He fires once, and his aim is true. The bullet rips through the air. It hits Turin in the back.
Turin roars, but he doesn’t slow. He just keeps running.
Fassbender fires again. It hits near Turin’s spine.
Stumbling, Turin growls and grunts, holding me tight against his beating chest.
“Just hold on,” Turin mutters, voice dragging.
Fassbender fires a third time.
“No!” I scream so hard my vocal cords tear.
Tears fall from my eyes.
It’s almost like everything is silent. Except, it’s not.
I’m in shock.
The sounds I hear make little sense. Everything is muffled and far away.
What’s happening?
Turin rolls across the ground, injured but still able to move.
I look back. Fassbender is reloading. We still have time to escape, but there is so much blood.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, face losing its blue shine.
“Don’t you dare say sorry to me,” I cry.
Slowly, the bullet holes close, but not fast enough. I try to stop the blood from pouring through his flesh.
He can’t die. He just can’t.
With the last ounce of energy he has left, he stands, roaring from pain. Stumbling into the dense jungle, he keeps me close.
We find a cave.
When we’re safe, he falls to the ground, huffing and moaning like a wounded animal.
I don’t know what to do. I’m as weak as I was on the day of my family’s car accident.