When All is Lost

Chapter 12

As the sun went down, I started to have a hard time breathing. No matter what I did, I couldn't seem to suck in enough oxygen. My heart was racing as my panicked mind could only obsess over the invasive feeling of the stitches.

"Please, Ian," I begged. "Please! They have to come out. I can't stand them for one more minute."

"Yes, you can," he said pulling my shaking hands away from my chest. "Just breathe with me. The feeling will pass."

I doubted it, but I still found myself mimicking him as he inhaled and exhaled. After a few minutes, it became easier to do on my own. My thoughts settled and the desperation ebbed back into a dark recess in the corner of my mind.

"Better?" He asked.

"For now."

We sat quietly in the dark bedroom, the only sounds coming from our soft breathing. After a while, I looked over at Ian. Dark circles had settled in around his eyes. In such a short amount of time, so much had been lost.

"Ian?"

"Hmm?"

"We're getting low on food."

He didn't look at me, choosing to stare out the window. "I know."

"We can't stay here any longer."

"I know."

I pursed my lips. "We should set out tomorrow."

In the dim light, I could tell his mouth turned downwards. "You aren't strong enough yet. You need more time to heal."

I scoffed. "Time is one luxury we don't have."

He looked at me then. It was like he was analyzing me, searching for the deeper meaning behind my words. It made me uncomfortable.

"Tomorrow the stitches have to come out," I stated, glaring at him when he opened his mouth to argue. "I'll do it myself if I have to."

Ian shook his head, hiding his amusement behind an annoyed expression. "Whatever you say, boss."

I flinched. "Don't call me that," I whispered, staring down at my hands.

"Kate," he sighed.

"Don't. Just don't."

"Okay. I won't."

A heavy silence fell between us. The air was charged with the words unsaid, yet somehow it wasn't uncomfortable. After a week of us both being pretty consistently on edge, we'd at least developed some mutual understanding.

"I want to find Chris."

Ian didn't look surprised, but rather thoughtful as he nodded. "We'll look for him."

"Tomorrow."

The corners of his lips flicked upwards. "Tomorrow."

---

"Ready?"

No.

"Yes. Just do it."

He tugged at the end of the thread.

"Mother fu-" I bit down on the pillow I was holding. Black dots invaded my vision as the string was slowly pulled through my torn flesh. I could feel sweat beading up as the process went on and on. I thought I was just about to lose my mind when Ian held the bloody floss-looking string in front of me.

"Done." He smiled.

I wanted to smack him.

"You good?"