He needed help. And it couldn’t come from a bunch of teenagers.
He picked his way back across the rocks to where Nimue lay propped against a stone, head tilted on one side, eyes barely open.
Something was wrong.
He crouched beside her. “Nim?”
She blinked slowly. Unfocused. As if she were looking through him instead of at him.
His unease spiked into full alarm. This wasn’t exhaustion or pain medication—something was seriously wrong. Her hand trembled near the water bottle, but she wasn’t reaching for it. Sweat beaded her forehead despite the cold air. Her skin was clammy and pale as the moon itself.
No.
He’d checked her head, neck, spine. No injuries there. But the lethargy, the sweating, the pallor—his first-aid training started screaming warnings.
“Nimue.” He tried to rouse her. “I need to check your ribs.”
“Hmm?” Her eyes stayed closed, head tilting like she was drifting.
“Your side,” he repeated, pulse hammering. “I need to look.”
He fumbled with her shirt, lifting it with clumsy movements.
His breath stopped.
The sun was almost down now. But even in the dim light, the deep-purple-and-red bruises that spread across her ribs like spilled paint stood out in stark contrast to her olive skin. His vision tunneled, dizziness hitting as the truth crashed over him.
Internal bleeding.
The fall had done more than bruise her—it was killing her. Slowly. Steadily. And if she didn’t reach a hospital tonight, she wouldn’t see morning.
He fought to breathe as he pressed gently around the bruising, watching her wince.
“Stay with me.” His voice cracked despite his best efforts.
The gold, her secrets, his hurt feelings—none of it mattered now. Only keeping her breathing. Those flashlights were their lifeline. If they belonged to rescuers with radios, they could call for a medevac. If they were Bratva, he’d fight, bargain, trade his life for hers.
Whatever it took.
“Brian.” He kept his voice low to avoid panicking the other kids.
Brian jogged over, his expression strained.
Liam held out his hand. “Flashlight.”
Brian handed it over, and Liam took off, running in the darkness—illuminated by his light—toward David.
“Can you still see them?”
David glanced at him. “Yeah. Their lights appear every once in a while, but then they’re gone. I think they’re moving further away.”
Liam raised the light high. Pointed it toward those distant figures. Three short bursts. Three long. Three short again. Pause. Repeat.
SOS.
Please be rescuers. Please have a radio. Please don’t be here to kill us all.
A beat in the darkness, his heart thundering in his chest.
