The Prescient

|Chapter 9|

We made it halfway to my mom's house, and each step Michael took, it would get slower and slower. My thigh was still bleeding, but it felt numb.

The street was littered with cars, and some of the buildings were destroyed. Several people covered the streets, and I couldn't help but look away.

"I think we lost them." He said. I blew out a breath, my eyes growing heavy.

"We're not getting anywhere like this. I have to take out the bullet." He mumbled.

"Hmm?" I hummed. I felt myself being laid on a hard surface. I peeled my eyes open and saw Michael leaning above me.

"I'm going to take out the bullet and clean the wound." He said. I nodded.

"Do... it." I breathed out. He ripped my pant leg open, causing me to hiss in pain. He moved my book bag off my back and sat it beside me. He stood up, digging in his vest.

"I don't have the right tools to do this, but it's going to have to do for now. It's going to hurt, Zoey." He said. I rolled my eyes.

"Just take it out already." I snapped. He nodded and bent down beside my leg.

"Ready?" He asked. He didn't wait for a nod as he squeezed my skin together. I bit my lip, a scream begging to be let out.

Something cold entered my wound, and I couldn't help but let out a short scream.

"Almost done. Just breathe." My hand flew to my hair, and I gripped several strands of it. Jesus. I never thought a gunshot wound would hurt this much.

"It's out! I got it." I released a breath, but it quickly hitched when I felt something drip on my leg.

"I have to clean it and wrap it up." He said.

"Let me guess. Alcohol?" I asked. A dry chuckle slipped through his lips.

"Yep." He said.

I looked down at him and saw he had a silver flask in his hand. He was about to pour the liquid on a cloth when I stopped him.

"No."

He looked down at me, a confused look on his face.

"Just pour it on my leg. Let's get this over with." I said. He raised a brow, opening his mouth to speak.

"Just do it, Michael. I have to get Matt." He nodded and grabbed my leg. He poured the alcohol on my thigh.

"Ahh!" I screamed out. It felt like a fire was dancing across my thigh. A hand clamped over my mouth, ceasing my screaming.

"You have to be quiet, Zoey. They're still out there, and they could find us any second." He said. I nodded, feeling my lips slightly tremble.

"Here I go." He kept his hand over my mouth as he got a grip on the bottle.

He poured some more of the liquid on my wound, and I couldn't help but scream. His hand muffled my screams, but they somewhat still slipped out through his hand.

"Okay! Okay! I'm done." He said. He moved his hand off my mouth and took out a bandage. I sucked in a breath then let it out.

"What time is it?"

"It's about two o'clock." He said, wrapping my leg up. My eyes went wide, and I sat up.

"We have to go. We're wasting time." I winced, looking down at my thigh. The wound wasn't all that bad, and it was cleaned and wrapped up.

I stood up and stretched, cracking my back. My thigh was still hurting, but I could somewhat walk on it.

Michael grabbed my bag, passing it to me. I thanked him and slung it on my back. I started walking, going in a whole different direction.