The Healer

Chapter 42: A Night

She had passed out and ended up laying in a pool of her own blood. She looked down, and gingerly pulled her shirt up. Thin but deep puncture wounds ran up her side, from her hip all the way up her torso and matching ones in her back. She had nothing to wrap it. But it seemed to have stopped it at least slowed. But the pain was just about unbearable. 

She sat leaning against the wall, beside the head of the squished Griever. The light had died out in its eyes, Griever guts and motor oil leaked onto the floor, mixing with her red. The walls had stopped moving, and the sky was light, meaning the sun was rising. Which meant...she had lived through the night. Somehow she had made it. What about Minho and Thomas and Alby? Did they make it? 

She needed to somehow make it back to the Glade. She had no idea where she was or how to get back. Looking around slowly. With a lot of gasps and hisses and cries she used the wall to get herself up onto her feet. Using the wall as support she slowly made her way down the hall. She had to wrap an arm around her waist, trying to support herself, and maybe try to stop the bleeding that started up again. 

Whimpers and soft cries left her as she staggered down the hall. She came to the end, looking up and down the intersecting hall. She didn't know which way to go. Stumbling forward into the hall, and just decided to pick one and go from there. She stumbled and staggered for a long time. The sun was up now. She heard the stone wall doors rumble open. It didn't help with her orientation, it echoed off the walls, making it sound like it was from every direction. Her head was so fuzzy. It was clouded with exhaustion and pain. She stumbled into the next intersection. Leaning on the wall closing her eyes. She knew if she lay down she would never wake up again. Forcing her eyes open she blinked a few times. Only a few inches from her face was a bloody hand print. 

She cried in relief. She now had a direction. It took her another two hours to stumble to the vines and ivy where she first woke up, following her smeared hand prints. Looking around, her vision coming in and out of focus, her eyes fixed on green. She saw a little chunk of grass! With a cry of relief which turned into a cry of pain, she stumbled forwards towards the green grass of the Glade. Tears of relief streamed down her face. She stumbled into the Glade. 

It was empty. No one was out working, no one was around. Confessed and disoriented she kept going, she needed to get to the MedHut. She needed Jeff and Clint. She tried calling for help, but nothing came out except for a dry cough which sent pain through her torso. 

She groaned and held her waist and took a few more steps. Her shirt was soaked with blood. Blood spilt over her hand and ran down her arm, she knew her back was bleeding all over the place. Her hair was tangled, covered in blood and Griever guts, and dirt from the stone. She was also covered in dried sweat and fresh sweat from her blood loss and the effort of getting back.

There was a commotion from the Gathering hall. Loud voices were arguing. Changing directions she went to wards the voices. They were closer. They could help. She fell to her knees. Her head was pounding, her vision was almost completely gone, her hearing was muffled. Blood was oozing out of her puncture wounds. With a last push of energy she got back to her feet. On shaking legs she fell into the door. It swung wide open. 

Every head turned towards the door. It went dead silent. Evelyn couldn't stand anymore and she sunk to her knees. Chaos erupted. Someone was right in front of her, but she couldn't make out details anymore. Her head was rolling, and her eyes wouldn't stay open.

"SLIM IT ALL OF YOU!"

The room went quiet. Everyone was listening. More guys crowded around her. She had no idea who it was. Hands were holding her up now. She was leaning heavily into them, she had no more strength.