Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
“Give it to him, as much as he can drink,” Ace nods and Zeke takes the bottle.
“Drink this, my friend,” Zeke orders Adrian, tipping it to his lips.
He coughs and splutters but wakes up long enough to take a few gulps before the pain knocks him out again.
“Put all of those blankets beneath his leg, we want to keep as much sand out as possible,” Ace orders.
I do as he asks, and watch in sheer horror as Ace and Kellen lift what’s left of Adrian’s leg so I can slide the blankets underneath. Sticky, warm blood coats my arms, as I adjust it and then they put his leg back down. My stomach twists, and I try to look at anything but the horrific mess the shark left. All I can see, in the quick glances, is exposed bone and flesh.
Ace pours vodka all over his hands, cleaning them as best he can. “Everyone ready?”
I close my eyes.
“Gracie,” Ace goes on, and my eyes pop open. “Go and get the hot stick, bring it down. You really don’t want to see this.”
He’s right, I don’t.
Kellen is holding the knife that he just heated in the fire to kill any germs, and he has the first aid kit open and every bandage laid out, as well as a whole bottle of antiseptic rinse. I push to my feet, just as Ace is ordering Zeke to hold on, and not to let him go no matter what.
I don’t look back.
Even when Adrian screams.
The noise is a guttural, howling thing that makes my skin tingle and tears roll down my cheeks. I can hear a distinct crunch, and it is enough for me to pause, but not turn. I lean down, hands on my knees, taking a deep breath so I don’t pass out. For a second I am certain I will vomit, but the only thing that comes up is a dry, retching sound.
I take another breath. The air smells sickly of blood and vodka. Somehow, I’m moving forward again, toward the fire, my legs shaking. I grab the end of the stoker with a towel, and even though the heat radiates up my arm, I hold tight, shuffling back down the slope. The metal glows at the tip, pulsing a dull, evil red, and I wonder if we’re in hell and just haven’t noticed.
Adrian has passed out again, mercifully.
Zeke cradles his head, sweat beading down his jaw. Kellen’s hands are slick with blood, but steady, his face set in a way that scares me more than the wound. Ace kneels over Adrian’s thigh, his teeth clenched, his own skin covered in blood. The leg is gone now—rolled up in the blanket that used to be Tatiana’s favorite.
I have never seen expressions like I can see on their faces right now.
I have to help.
They need me to lead right now, because they’re all going into some sort of shock.
“Here, let me help,” I say, handing Ace the stoker and kneeling next to Adrian.
Taking a breath, I get to work. I tighten the tourniquet on his upper leg so tight that blood slowly begins to stop trickling. Then, I pour three bottles of boiled water over the exposed wound, biting my inner cheek as I wash away every ounce of sand and debris I can find. The guys watch, almost in admiration, as I do my best to keep this man alive.
Once it is clean, I use a towel to dry off as much as possible before reaching for the bottle of vodka and emptying the entire thing over the wound. I rock back on my heels, watching as it dries out, the blood disappearing and dripping down off what was once his leg. Then, I look to Ace. “I think that’s the best I can do, but you need to seal it. It is the only way he might survive.”
He looks down at the stoker in his hand, still glowing red on the end, then to Kellen.
Kellen nods.
He holds one side.
I hold the other.
Zeke keeps on holding his head.
Ace grits his teeth, positions the flattest part of metal over the raw flesh and meets my gaze. I nod, trying to keep it together but the tears won’t stop running down my cheeks. I am just ignoring them now, because Adrian needs us to do this. I brace Adrian’s knee with my palms, and Ace presses the stoker down. The flesh sizzles, and almost melts against the heat, a sound and sight I never want to see again. The smell is crippling. I gasp and jerk my head away, tears running down my face, but I don’t let go.
Kellen grinds out, “Keep going, it’s gotta seal,” and Ace presses harder.
There’s no movement from Adrian, but a single muscle in his jaw twitches, over and over. My stomach flips so hard I nearly faint, but I hold, I fucking hold, I am not going to puke on this poor man after what he has just endured. If he has to live through this, so do we.