The River (Book 3 of The Claiming Series)

Chapter Twelve

Eli sweeps me up in his arms and carries me in a panic towards the trunk. He stands there for a moment, breathing harder and harder. Then he's looking around and around.

"I can't... I can't believe this. Who would do this?" He's livid.

He lays me down in the trunk of the car (it's a pretty big trunk, so it's not, like, kidnap-y or anything).

I can barely see anymore.

I curl up on my side, my red, red, red hands and wrists splayed in front of my face, useless.

Eli is pacing. Shouting. "She's dying! You worthless pieces of—"

"Eli," I croak, cutting him off.

He's at my side in an instant. He sits on the ledge of the trunk and pushes the strands of hair stuck to my wet forehead out of the way. He's become blurry.

I think he takes his shirt off.

He uses it to dab the sweat from my face.

"I don't know what to do," he says. "I'm about to kill whoever did this to you. There was no reason to slash the tires. I understand if they needed the supplies more than we did—which is highly doubtful to me, but our transportation?" His voice starts to catch in his throat, tight and constricted. Wavering.

He's crying.

"They've killed you."

"I'm not dead yet," I murmur. "Pull yourself together."

Eli's head snaps up in shock, and I think he's staring at me in surprise. "O—okay. Um." He sniffs and wipes his nose with his arm. "Water. You need water. I think there were maybe some bottles in the store...?"

"The plastic," I rasp. "The heat will have dispersed plastic into the water. It won't be good."

"Right, right," he says. "And we can't drive anywhere..."

"Then we'll walk," I say.

Not that I particularly want to.

I'd rather lay down and die.

I've got the lying down part already, so I think if I just fall asleep...

"Mave! Stay awake! Please, stay awake."

My eyes snap open, but my vision is still inept. "I can barely see you," I moan.

Eli takes me in his arms again and lifts me from the trunk. "We'll walk. We'll walk," he whispers over and over to himself as he carries me away from the car. My head falls limply against his chest, and I close my eyes again.

******

Well, shoot.

I'm still alive.

And everything still burns all over and I'm freezing and hot and tired and aching all over. Great.

"Mave, drink this," Eli says gently.

I feel something cool on my lips all of a sudden, and water glides down my throat, spreading coolness through my chest and stomach. He pulls it back after a moment, waiting, and then gives me more.

He repeats this five or so times.

"Now put this on your tongue, and swallow with the water," he instructs.

I do as he says. He puts a chalky object on my tongue, and when he gives me water, I swallow both. It leaves a nasty taste in my mouth, and I gag.

"Keep it down," he murmurs.