Time to Make a Difference

Chapter 11: Getting Shot is NOT Heroic: Keefe's POV

Getting shot was, to say the least, not fun. Sure, anyone else might think, Wow Keefe you got shot saving the day! So heroic! Nope, that was not the case. Keefe's right shoulder felt like a ton of bees had decided to group up on him and sting him multiple times on his shoulder in the exact same spot.

Plus, he was starting to feel dizzy and nauseous. His skin felt clammy and he was starting to sweat as if he were in a sauna. Probably not a good sign.

"Hey Funkyhair. You okay?" the Moonlark asked glancing at him with concern. Her voice sounded distant and muffled.

Keefe wanted to respond that he'd just been shot so what did it look like, but when he tried to speak he ended up vomiting all over the truck floor.

Yup. This couldn't be good.

"Oh gosh. We need to get you to De- I mean my friend soon. You're going into shock," the Moonlark sped up the car causing some other cars to honk at us.

Great. Just what he needed. Breaking the law in broad daylight. Don't get him wrong, at night he was perfectly fine with speeding as long as it was an emergency and there weren't many cars around.

He started to hyperventilate. Or was it wheezing? He honestly couldn't tell. His heartbeat was going way too fast and black dots were starting to dance around his vision.

Keefe tried to distract himself by thinking of the weird warmth the Moonlark had given him so that he'd wake up after getting shot. Whatever it was she did it must have worn off because Keefe felt like crap. It must have been one of the Moonlark's abilities, but what was it called? Keefe had the name on the tip of his tongue, but his brain felt like a tornado of thoughts. Keefe would just have to ask her later, assuming he was still alive to do so.

The Moonlark turned to the left onto a small, peaceful street and parked right outside a medium sized house with freshly painted turquoise walls.

"Okay, we're here," Moonlark got out of the car and opened his side of the door. She carefully put his arm around her shoulders and quickly half-dragged him towards the back entrance of the house.

Meanwhile, Keefe was trying his best not to hurl all over her and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Apparently his legs didn't feel like complying so they just dragged behind him leaving the Moonlark to carry all his weight.

His eyelids felt heavy, but he willed them to stay open. The last thing he needed was to fall unconscious.

The Moonlark bagned on the door yelling out a name, what was it? Deck? Everything just sounded so... muffled.

Someone opened the door at the same time he slipped from the Moonlark's grip and fell to the ground landing right on his injured shoulder. Keefe yelled out as pain flared up his neck and down his right arm.

He felt two pairs of strong arms lifting him up and bringing him into the house. His vision blurred though he couldn't tell if it was from the pain or tears.

Keefe vaguely took into account being laid down on a soft sofa and his legs being raised onto a pile of pillows.

Before he could stop it everything turned black.

Hey guys! I can't believe I updated so soon! This is a super short chapter, but I hope you still like it! Don't worry Keefe won't die....Well, at least I don't think he will. We'll see how the story goes. *smirks evilly* 😏 Anyways, please tell me if there are any grammatical mistakes or plot holes! Please share, like and comment and thank you! All of you are so amazing!