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And then she saw the blood that covered the man’s side, saw that his face was ashen and his breathing barely even noticeable. Going closer, she cleared her throat.
“If you make a move, I’ll shoot you, and believe me, I’m a decent shot.” The warning was for her as much as it was for him.
But the man didn’t move. His dark hair was longer, unkempt, and he was filthy from head to toe. He’d been on the road a long time; she could gauge as much. When he didn’t move at her warning, she went closer and then crouched beside him. Holding the gun out and pressing it to his head, she gave another warning, just in case.
“If you’re playing opossum, I suggest you cut the shit now or you’ll have a nice hole in your head.” She sounded and was acting far stronger than she really was, but she couldn’t be too careful in this fucked-up world. He didn’t move or even twitch, not even with the gun to his head. Keeping the barrel at his temple, she looked around and tried to see if there was anything in the woods.
Silence greeted her.
Maya was convinced enough he wasn’t playing dead, so she took the gun away from his head and looked down at his wound. She assumed she’d see a bite mark, but when she pulled the t-shirt up it was to see a large gash.
A knife wound.
This was fresh, because no way he would have been able to trek all the way up here from town with a wound like that.
Maya stood, aimed the gun at the woods, and started sweeping it back and forth, ready to shoot anything that came out. But as she stood there for long moments, barely breathing so she could hear, she had a feeling she was alone. Whoever had done this to him wasn’t here anymore, and the sooner she got back inside, the better.
Looking down at the stranger, she thought—for only a second—that she should just leave him here. She wasn’t a nurse or a doctor by any means but could patch up a few things, yet this man could be a rapist for all she knew, could have been bitten and infected.
The longer she stared at him, the more her compassion grew. She couldn’t just leave him, couldn’t go inside and let him die out here. At least if he died inside, she would have tried her best to help him and could have a clear conscience.
Slinging the gun across her back again, she reached under his arms and started dragging him to the house. He was heavy, a tall man, and getting him to the front door was a pain in the ass.
But when she was finally in the house, she took a step back, breathing hard, and looked down at him. He hadn’t so much as made a move or sound, and she feared he wouldn’t last much longer if she didn’t try to close and heal the laceration.
She’d try to help him, because to her, she didn’t have any other option.
8
The pain was what woke Marius up. It was searing, burning, took control of his entire body, and had him groaning. There was something tight on his side, something that was pulling every time he took a breath. It was an uncomfortable feeling, and everything in his body ached.
Slowly opening his eyes, Marius had to blink at the dim lighting. It was just a glow from a candle beside him, but it seemed so bright, as if he looked directly into the sun. Scanning around the room, he was confused as to where he was.
It was a bedroom, one that had a few pictures of flower silhouettes hanging on the wall and a chair pushed in the corner with a blanket over it.
He was confused and so damn tired and didn’t know where the hell he was. The low growl that came from in front of him had Marius rising up just enough that he could see the floor in front of the bedroom door.
An older black lab sat in front of the partially open door, his teeth bared, his focus on Marius. The pain in his body was there, but he gritted his teeth and pushed it away.
Then the door opened all the way, and Marius instantly went on alert.
“Easy or you’ll tear the stitches,” the woman said in a soft voice.
She had long, dark hair, and he instantly remembered seeing her. She’d been leaving a greenhouse, and he’d been just a few feet from a large farmhouse. But then he’d been attacked. Closing his eyes and breathing out, he tried to think of what happened after he’d been stabbed.
He opened his eyes and looked at her as she neared. She held a tray with medical supplies on it, but she wouldn’t keep eye contact with him. He didn’t know if she had the supplies stockpiled or if she found them when scavenging, but he was thankful nonetheless.
