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Without hesitation, my arms reared back and plunged into the chest of the creature. With a light so bright it burned hotter than the stars, I struck my hands into the cavern of its chest and ripped the creature into two.
A thick black acidic liquid coated my hands and ran down my arms. The markings on my arms shielded my skin from the dark liquid, turning the dark tar to dust.
Like blowing out a flame, the connection severed. The darkness I’d felt consuming me vanished into nothing.
What have I done?
For a moment I had felt whole, but when the light faded, dread crept over me.
Before I could turn my head away, the creature disintegrated into ash, flowing through my fingertips. Specks of black powder floated through the air, mixing with the smoke of gunfire and the dirt of the earth.
Still on my back, I watched the bands of white markings ebb away from my skin. I turned my palms over, and the light vanished.
I sucked in a deep breath and choked on the lingering taste of rage. The ash that filtered to the earth tasted of such a deep despair, I gagged.
I squinted my eyes, waving at the thick air before cocking my head and listening. The only sound was the roaring in my ears. I shook my head, trying to focus.
Then I heard it.
A low, deep rasp, followed by a wet cough.
Logan.
I crawled toward the noise. The ragged pants and damp coughs were all I could hear. My hands blindly searched the ground.
Please.
My fingertips felt a sticky, warm liquid blending with the dirt. I brushed over the liquid, following its trail. Inch by inch, I smoothed my hands over the dust, searching for another drop.
My breath hitched.
The dark red drops became puddles a moment before my hand brushed a solid mound.
I gulped for clean air.
I had failed. It was supposed to me, not him.
I spread my fingers on the form and blinked. I veered my hands up the clothed mass and found shreds of clothing missing. Five claw marks etched deep into Logan’s torso.
A soft cry left my lips. My hands rested on his torn abdomen. Claw marks sliced open his skin, revealing muscle beneath.
It’s my fault. All my fault. Please, no.
Bright red blood poured out of the wounds, seeping on the ground. I couldn’t tell where one tear ended and the other began. It was a mess of raw flesh, and rage. So much fury and hatred from the thing that had done this.
I laid my trembling hands on his abdomen, pressing into the largest wound. But the streams of warm liquid wouldn’t stop. It kept flowing from under my hands, coating my palms in his warm blood.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” I repeated.
How could I have failed him?I was here. I saw it coming, and yet it was in vain. I couldn’t lose him. I hadn’t been there for Jason. But I wouldn’t leave Logan.
I laid the back of my hand over his cheek and bent my mouth to his lips. The backs of my fingers felt the rough brush of his beard. His sandy blond hair was coated in dirt.
I closed my eyes as muddy tears fell onto his forehead.
“It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. It’s not that bad.” I pressed my hand into his warm blood.
Gently, I brushed my lips over his before I whispered, “I’ll save you. I promise.”
