Shifters of the Futile

Chapter 18

Slumped against a rock in front of us, David lay motionless.

"David." I whispered.

I turned to Abby and Cameron screeching for my clothes. They stared at me in confusion, understanding though that I wanted something out of a bag. Cameron seemed to be first in figuring out it was my clothes I wanted.

He moved over to a bush and tossed them down, allowing me to hop over and change.

I stumbled out from behind the bush, wobbling on three legs as I tried to get my last shoe on.

Finally, I stood before David as Abby was at his side.

Abby was stroking his forehead, clearly not caring that he was the one who had killed the caribou member.

I knelt at Davids feet, inspecting him with what I knew. Last I had seen him he had been naked, I was thankful for his clothes. Looking at him up and down, I kept glancing at the strange bulge at the side of his little coat.

I walked on my knees over to his side, trying to gently slip off the shirt as I realized what it was.

I made a hideous screech, covering my mouth as I turned around. I didn't want to look again.

Underneath the coat, the knife he had been struck with still remained.

The knife was covered in dried blood, but there was still more coming out. No wonder he was as pale as snow. The skin parted like splitting ice and there was tons of pus lining the wound.

I made a swallow, before turning around to 'diagnose'.

"What should we do?" I prodded Abby.

"I have no idea."

"David?" I tried.

"David! Hello? Earth to David."

"Yes," his cracking voice responded.

"Where are the other Retreats?" I growled as I realized he was awake.

"Got lost when they were chasing away a wolf pack they haven..." he drifted off.

"David!" I shouted.

"Hhmmmmm," he mumbled continuously.

"Continue,"

"They haven't returned. A storm came after and I don't know where they are,"

I breathed in as I looked back down at the knife. Did they leave him on purpose? To be honest, those boys weren't much of the, 'every man for himself,' kind of people.

"Was it on purpose?" I snapped.

David shook his head slowly. I sure hoped he wasn't lying and was sure about this.

I reached out to grab the handle of the knife, preparing to yank it out.

"Kendra," Abby slapped my hand beside me.

I drew back my hand with a questioning look, but I knew she was right. We may have to leave the knife in him.

"OK, I cannot live seeing that knife," I pointed.

"You may have to," Abby told me. I got up and walked away in disgust.

"Oh yeah, we need him to lead us to the Baron." I reminded.

Cameron grunted beside me. "Well, I'm not sure we should be torturing him if he's dying,"

"He's not dying!" I snapped. David may have been pale, a knife sticking out of his side too, but he could probably live a full life if he was supported. After all, the wound wasn't bleeding.