“Angus!” Parv called, her voice begging. “Run!”
“I’m okay. You gotta get out of here. You gotta make it.”
“I told you not to die for me,” she said.
“We ain’t gonna die,” he replied, but his voice caught in his throat.
The creatures had begun to howl, the shrill sounds loud in the small space and seemingly never-ending. Angus felt as if their wails were pounding into him, and he wanted so badly to cover his ears, but he was still holding the light, and he couldn’t bring himself to let go of it. If he did, he wouldn’t know how close they were. He wouldn’t be ready when they pounced.
The creatures were gaining on them. Parv was still fifteen feet from the entrance of the cave, more than ten from where the sunlight penetrated the darkness, and the hybrid zombies were hot on their tail. His feet were clumsy, tripping over unseen items littering the ground, rocks rolling beneath his soles. He stumbled once, nearly falling, but managed to stay up. Parv, too, seemed to be having difficulty, but still he was unprepared when she let out a yelp and fell to the ground.
He passed her before he could register what had happened, then had to skitter to a stop. She was on her knees, trying to stand, and he knelt to help her, finally throwing the light aside. They were so close to freedom. They could make it. They had to.
“Come on,” he said, grabbing her arms and trying to pull her up.
She was halfway to her feet when one of the creatures pounced. It seemed to come out of nowhere, streaking from the darkness like a phantom and landing on her back. Parv went down again, grunting, and even though they hadn’t yet reached the sunshine, there was enough light to illuminate the hybrid crouched on her back. Hairless, pale-skinned, milky eyes, and black veins, it should have looked like every other creature they’d come across, but with a jolt, Angus realized it wasn’t just any creature. He wasn’t sure how he recognized her, between the haze blocking out the thing’s irises and the darkness surrounding them, but somehow, he did. It was the eyes. She had Axl’s eyes.
“Margot,” he said, his voice ringing with pain and heartbreak.
The creature that had been his niece opened her mouth, ready to take a bite out of Parv, jolting him from his thoughts. He lashed out on instinct, slamming his fist into her face, and she went flying. Once she was off his wife’s back, he hauled Parv to her feet, wrapping an arm around her so when he started running again, he was practically carrying her.
He could still hear the scurry of feet behind him, and it was close, but when he rushed out into the sunlight, he let out a victory whoop. Angus stumbled a few feet from the tunnel’s entrance before dropping to the ground. He was gasping when he rolled onto his back, turning to face the hell they’d escaped. The creatures were just visible in the darkness, shifting and hissing in the shadows, mere inches from the sunshine. They acted like they’d hit an invisible barrier, and watching it was eerie. Unsettling.
“Angus,” Parv said, drawing his attention from the tunnel to his wife.
Until he saw her face, he’d thought everything was okay. Thought they’d once again escaped disaster. The expression of agony in her eyes told a different story.
“What?” He pushed himself up, his gaze moving over her, his heart beating against his ribs like it was trying to break free. “What is it?”
Parv lifted her hand, and a long cut came into view. It was on the underside of her wrist, exactly where a person would slice if they wanted to kill themselves, and it was dripping blood.
He blinked, trying to figure out what to say, trying to tell himself it was just a cut. It wasn’t from the creature. The thing that had once been Margot hadn’t sliced his wife’s skin open with her claws, hadn’t infected the best thing that had ever happened to him. Parv was going to be okay.
“You’re all right,” he said, reaching for her, covering the cut with his palm. “It’s just a scratch.”
“You know that isn’t true.” Her voice was soft, soothing. She was trying to comfort him. It made no sense, but he was okay. He wasn’t the one who was infected—
A strangled groan tore its way out of him as reality came crashing down. Parv was infected. She was going to die.
Unless he stopped it.
He pulled his knife from its sheath and reached for his belt. “We gotta cut it off. Now. Before the infection spreads.”
Parv said nothing, watching as he undid his belt and pulled it free. He looped it around her arm, just above the elbow, and pulled it tight, securing it. Bile rose in his throat at the thought of what he was about to do, and his gaze moved to the knife. Axl’s knife. The same one Joshua had used to cut Al’s arm off all those years ago. It had worked on him. He’d gotten another thirty years. It would work for Parv, too. It had to.
“I gotta do it now.” He swallowed. “Don’t got nothing to sterilize the blade, but there’s no time.”
Parv’s head bobbed. “Do it.”
She lowered herself to the ground, lying on her back so her eyes were focused on the sky above, while Angus knelt at her side. He wasn’t a doctor, but he’d watched Joshua cut Al’s arm off and knew there wasn’t much to it. Use the belt for a tourniquet so she didn’t bleed out—check. Do it fast so the infection didn’t spread—check. Cut high enough from the infected area so there was more time—check.
His hand shook as he positioned the knife an inch below his belt, and he sucked in a deep breath. He had to do it, if he didn’t, he’d lose her for sure. But he wasn’t foolish enough to think it would be easy. This was his wife, the woman he loved, and while the sight of blood had never bothered him before, just thinking about how much there’d be was making him woozy. He could do it, though. He had to.
“I’m gonna start cutting.”
Parv squeezed her eyes shut.
Angus sucked in another deep breath, then ran the blade across her flesh.
Her scream cut through the forest and slammed into him, making his entire body jerk. He’d been foolishly unprepared for how she’d react to the pain and was forced to stop cutting when her body bucked. Keeping one hand on her shoulder, he held her down as she shifted, repositioning himself so he was straddling her, hoping it would help keep her still. Once he was certain he had a good grip, he went back to cutting.
Parv screamed again, and the creatures, still so close they could smell the fresh blood, grew agitated, their constant howls and moans making it difficult to focus. He had to, though, so he worked to block out the sounds, kept his focus on the task as he moved the knife back and forth, severing his wife’s flesh.
As if she no longer had the energy to scream, Parv had started moaning. Her eyes were closed, and her face was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, and while she was still struggling, the movements were less violent.
Angus reached the bone and shifted her arm so he could cut through the other side. Blood had pooled on the forest floor, and the sight of it, coupled with the knowledge that it was Parv’s, made his head swim. He blinked and shook his head as darkness threatened to close in, fighting to stay conscious.
“You got this,” he growled. “You got this.”
His vision cleared, and he exhaled, filling his lungs again before going back to cutting. Parv was barely conscious, and the little sounds she made were more terrifying than the screams she let out. Still, he kept working, and by the time he heard the thud of footsteps running his way, he’d managed to cut through everything but the bone.
He pulled the knife back and flipped it over, positioning the serrated side against his wife’s exposed bone just as Vivian crashed through a few nearby bushes. She skittered to a stop, her eyes wide as she took in the scene, but she was moving again in seconds, kneeling beside Parv.
“I’ve got her,” she said, first putting her fingers against Parv’s neck, then moving so her hands were pressing down on her friend’s shoulders. “I’m here, Angus. You’re not alone.”
He felt like bursting into tears.
He shifted, moving so he had
a better angle now that he didn’t have to hold Parv down. Not that it mattered. She was unconscious.
“Almost done,” he said, even though he’d reached the most difficult part.
He sawed the knife across the bone over and over again, gritting his teeth, pressing down as he worked. He focused on the action of sawing, blocking out why he was doing it, afraid if he allowed his brain to accept what he was doing, his body would shut down. Back and forth. Back and forth. He sawed over and over again until finally, the bone gave way and his wife’s arm dropped to the forest floor.
Angus sat back, panting, staring at the arm he’d just cut off, then looking at the blood on his knife and hands, and pooled on the forest floor. His stomach convulsed, and he turned away just in time to vomit.
“She’s alive,” Vivian said once he’d stopped retching. “But you know we have to get her back to the settlement. Now.”
Angus spit and wiped his mouth. He felt lightheaded, but it only took one look at his wife’s face to rally. While he’d vomited, Vivian had removed her jacket and wrapped it around Parv’s stump, which helped settle Angus’s stomach even more. His sister-in-law was right. They needed to get home and get the bleeding under control.
He pulled himself to his feet, then knelt so he could sweep his wife into his arms. She was totally slack, her face a couple shades lighter than it had been before and sweaty, but her expression was almost serene. It wouldn’t last. The pain would be unimaginable, and other than some pot, they had nothing to ease her discomfort.
Parv’s head bounced as he jogged through the woods, Vivian running at his side. His wife’s hastily bandaged stump lay across her stomach, blood soaking through the fabric more and more with each passing second. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or if her skin had paled even more, but he kept a close eye on her as he ran. He couldn’t see her eyes since she was out cold, but so far none of the telltale black veins had appeared on her neck, which was a good sign. If she was going to turn, they would have shown up by now.
“It’s gonna work.” He grunted out the words, more for himself than for anyone else.
“She’ll be okay,” Vivian assured him.
He moved faster, pushing himself.
It seemed to take forever and no time at all to reach the settlement, and just like the night he’d carried Axl home, he started yelling for them to open the gate as soon as it came into view. There were fewer people now, but the gate still never went unmanned, and it was open by the time they reached it.
Angus was greeted by a group of a half a dozen people when he rushed through. He was panting and out of breath, soaked in sweat, but he barely noticed. All he could do was search the faces and pray the one he was looking for was there.
His gaze landed on Annabel, the only person in town with any kind of medical training, and he let out a deep sigh. “Help.”
It was all he could get out before his voice broke and he dropped to his knees.
“Get her,” Annabel called. “Bring her to my office. Fast!”
Thankfully, what passed for a clinic was close to the gate, meaning they didn’t have far to go. Still, Angus wasn’t quite sure if he could make it, which was the only reason he allowed someone to take Parv from his arms. He didn’t even know who it was, and he didn’t care as long as they got her to the clinic and Annabel saved her.
“Hold on to me,” Vivian said, grabbing his arm, urging him to his feet. “You need to be there when she wakes up.”
Angus’s legs trembled and nearly gave out, but somehow, he managed to stay on his feet. He had to lean on Vivian more than he liked, but he wasn’t too proud to take help when he needed it. They made their way across the small square to the clinic. Its front door was wide open, and even before they reached it, they could hear Annabel’s sharp voice giving orders. The sound comforted Angus. Annabel was a serious woman, and smart. She’d been an EMT before the zombies came, and over the last thirty years had spent hours upon hours reading medical books and studying homeopathic remedies. Parv was in good hands.
The chaos slammed into him when they stepped into the room, making his confidence in Annabel’s abilities waver. The man who’d carried his wife to the clinic was still present, as were Annabel and her helper. They seemed to flutter about like a flock of frightened chickens, and watching them made Angus’s already light head spin. His legs were wobbly and weak, barely keeping him up. Not wanting to put all his weight on Vivian, he chose instead to lean against the wall. He could have sat down—there were several chairs in the room—but he wouldn’t be able to see Parv’s face from that angle, and he needed to see her. Needed to know if her complexion changed more or if veins appeared, and if she did open her eyes, he wanted to be able to see for himself if her irises were still brown.
“We need to control the bleeding,” Annabel was saying. “A transfusion would be good, but I’m not going to pretend that’s even a possibility.”
She unwound Vivian’s jacket, exposing the jagged and bloody stump that only an hour ago had been his wife’s arm, and Angus felt his heart crack. The fissure only grew as Annabel worked, swearing when the bleeding wouldn’t stop, then shouting for someone to warm the iron in the fire. She’d left cauterizing the wound as a last resort, worried Parv would go into shock and die, and the knowledge that they were out of options caused the crevice in Angus’s heart to spread. He grabbed his chest, squeezing it like he’d be able to keep his heart from breaking in two. Vivian was beside him, and sensing that he needed support, she took his hand. Having her there was the only thing that could have comforted him at that moment, but even it was miniscule compared to the agony tearing through him.
“You might not want to watch this,” Annabel called over her shoulder, not looking back.
Angus closed his eyes.
A few minutes later, Parv’s anguished scream cut through the air, and his eyes flew open. She’d been out cold, but when Annabel pressed the hot iron against her stump, it jolted her to consciousness. Now, her eyes were wide, her mouth open as if about to let out another cry of pain, but no sound came out.
Angus pushed himself off the wall and stumbled toward the bed, grabbing for the only hand she had left.
“Parv.” Her name came out of him sounding like pure anguish.
She blinked as if trying to focus, finally turning her eyes on him. They were clear, her irises the same brown he knew and loved, but unfocused, and her face was dripping with sweat. Angus ran his hand over her forehead, pushing her damp hair back, and lifted her hand to his lips.
“I’m here. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
“Angus,” she said, her voice barely over a whisper. “You saved me.”
“I didn’t. I didn’t do enough.” His voice trembled, and tears dropped from his eyes, falling down his cheeks. “I shouldn’t have let you go in there. I shoulda made you leave that damn deer alone.”
She gave him a shaky smile, her eyelids fluttering like they wanted to close. “Don’t. You—” Her eyes shut. Opened a crack. “You did everything right.”
Her eyes shut, and her head dropped to the side, and Angus felt like his heart was going to explode.
He looked up, focusing on Annabel, who was busy cleaning Parv’s wound. “Is she dead? Is that it?”
Annabel didn’t look up from her work. “She passed out. It’s a blessing. You can’t imagine the pain she’s in.”
He could, because his heart felt the same.
Once Annabel had cleaned the wound, she got busy bandaging it. Vivian pulled a chair to the side of the bed, giving Angus a chance to sit down, and he did so gratefully. He clung to Parv’s hand, waiting for her to wake while at the same time praying she wouldn’t just yet. The longer she slept, the better off she’d be. The pot would do little to relieve this kind of pain.
When Annabel had finished, she stepped back. “Angus.”
He tore his gaze from his wife’s face, focusing on the other woman.
“You need to be prepared.”
Annabel sighed like she wasn’t happy about what she had to say next. “She might not make it. Understand? Between the blood loss and shock from the pain, she could still die. Then there’s the risk of infection. I did my best, but I’m assuming you didn’t have a way to sterilize the knife out there, and you and I both know how quickly infections can take people these days. Even if she does survive, she’s going to be in pain for a long time. Weeks. Maybe longer.”
“We been through this before,” he said, turning his gaze back on Parv.
“Al,” Vivian explained. “We were with Al when his arm was amputated.”
Annabel let out another sigh, this one sad. “That’s right. I forgot you guys knew each other that long.”
Silence followed, but Angus couldn’t look away from Parv, so he had no idea what Annabel was doing. He didn’t care either. She was wrong. Parv would pull through. She had to.
After a few seconds, Annabel walked away, and Vivian followed. He could hear their quiet whispers on the other side of the room, but he didn’t even try to listen.
Eventually, Vivian came back to his side. “I’m going to run home and change. I’ll bring you some clothes and something to eat. Okay?”
He only nodded in response.
Vivian left without saying anything else.
Once the front door had shut, he ventured a look around, not sure if Annabel was still in the clinic or if she, too, had left. Finding the room empty, he turned his gaze back on his wife.
Despite the sweat beaded on her forehead, her expression looked peaceful. It was unimaginable that she could be so relaxed when he knew the throbbing agony that had to be coursing through her body right now. It was a defense mechanism, no doubt. The body’s way of protecting her from the pain. He hoped it lasted.
He ran his hand over her head, pushing her hair back, his gaze sweeping over her face for any sign that she was waking as he did. Her expression stayed serene, though.
Broken World | Novel | Angus Page 40