Little Fox

2: Grey Eyes

☽

"Are you hurt?" Holden asks, his voice slightly muffled through the receiver.

I glance down at my leg, and the crimson pulsing out of the wound and seeping onto the upholstery in my car. It doesn't really hurt, since my whole body is starting to feel numb, but the amount of blood I'm losing seems unhealthy.

"Kat, are you hurt?" he repeats, his voice suddenly tense.

"I think so," I say slowly.

"Where are you?"

"Off Highway 52." My tongue feels heavy, and the words come out sloppy and disjointed. There's a rush of voices on his end and the sound of heavy footsteps, and the slam of a car door.

"Hang in there. We're coming to get you."

"Okay."

"Kat?"

"Mmm?"

He doesn't say anything for a while, then he takes a deep, shaky breath. "You're gonna be alright."

I nod, even though I know he can't see me.

"Listen, we'll be there soon, okay? We're gonna bring you home." If I make it, I add for him.

The small hairs on the back of my neck prickle. I glance out the window to see dozens of pairs of eyes reflecting the dim light of the moon among the shadows of the trees. I lift my now incredibly heavy hand to flick a switch, and there's a dull click as the car doors lock. I sink lower in my seat. As if that would stop them.

Holden stays on the phone with me as I wait, saying nothing, and I can hear the voices of the others in the background.

My eyes are trained on the other side of the road. The trees are still, empty. Why are they empty?

It's an hour-long drive from our district to the pack's hunting grounds. They make it in half.

Someone tries to open my door and I unlock it without thinking. Arms gather me up and move me to the backseat of another car. I swear I see something move on the other side of the highway, but it's gone as soon as I try to concentrate on it. The door closes, and the driver peels off the side of the road.

Holden curses as he inspects my leg. The girl with him–Madison, I think, I can't make out the features of her face– unwraps a bandage and presses it against the bite on my neck. I jerk away as the searing pain returns, pulsing and writhing beneath my skin, and I let out a strangled groan.

Stars dance behind my eyes.

"Careful," Holden snaps at her.

I hardly feel it when Holden applies wads of gauze to my leg, though his hands are already covered in my blood. Abandoning his attempt to stem the flow, he swiftly slips off his belt and wraps it around my thigh. I breathe in sharply when he pulls it tight, then he turns his attention to my mangled foot as Madison hands him more bandages.

Nausea churns in my stomach when the car makes a sharp turn, but I don't have the strength to protest.

Holden's head snaps up to face look at the driver, hands still applying pressure to my foot, his eyes narrowed. "What are you doing?" he asks, his voice low.

Madison looks uncomfortable as she presses more bandages to my neck. Exhaustion pulls at my eyelids when the pain spikes, and I want nothing more than to let sleep take me, but I force them back open.

The stars are so pretty, spinning and flickering. Like little fireflies at night.

There's a heavy sigh from behind the wheel. "It's protocol, you know that Holden. We have to lose them. We can't risk­–"