Angel Fever

Page 17

 

  “The deal is you made a big mistake when you hurt her,” said Alex in a low voice. “Drop your weapon, or I swear to god I’ll kill you. ”

  The guy scowled and took a step forward; it all happened in seconds. Willow’s angel appeared right behind him – her eyes were stunned and fixed on Willow, clearly thinking only of merging. As she passed, the soldier cursed and swung to face her, aiming his pistol.

  No. He would not hurt Willow again. Without thinking, Alex raised Willow’s pistol; the guy whirled back towards him. Both weapons went off at the same time: one muffled, one echoing through the night.

  It felt like a car had slammed into him. Someone cried out; he realized it had been him. Oh Christ, his arm. The pain tore at him; the world dimmed at its edges. Gritting his teeth, Alex somehow managed to stay conscious and upright, still holding Willow.

  The soldier lay in a crumpled heap nearby. Alex stared blankly at him…and gradually became aware of warmth and moisture. Looking down, he saw the dark blood streaming from a hole in his bicep and understood distantly that he had to stop it. He half fell to his knees, managing to rest Willow on the ground, and then pulled off his T-shirt, the motion slow and clumsy with one hand. He felt very tired suddenly – the task ahead seemed enormous.

  His right arm wouldn’t lift on its own. Holding the edge of his T-shirt with his teeth, Alex got the cloth wrapped around the wound, almost passing out again as it pressed against the bullet’s exit hole – the thing had gone right through him. Slowly, with teeth and his good hand, he secured the makeshift bandage.

  He slumped against a tree, breathing hard, the bark pricking at his bare back. They had to get moving. He had to get Willow, and they had to get to the truck…they had to…

  The next thing he knew, Willow was leaning over him, shaking him. Her voice sounded high, frightened. “Alex! Alex, please wake up – they’re searching the woods. ”

  He focused on her with an effort. At first her words made no sense; all he remembered was trying to keep her safe. “Are you okay?” he whispered. Distantly, he could hear shouts.

  “I’m fine – it just knocked me out. ” She grasped his good arm and pulled; he saw dazedly that she was close to tears. “Come on, sweetheart, please. We have to go. ”

  A dark fallen form lay nearby. Memory sliced through Alex’s weariness. The shots – he’d been hit. Using the tree for leverage, he heaved himself up as Willow supported his good arm.

  “Oh god, you’ve lost so much blood…” She fumbled quickly at his bandage, tying it tighter.

  Alex gritted his teeth at the renewed pressure; he jerked his head at the soldier. “Is he—?”

  “Yes,” she said shortly. The shouts were closer now;Alex could see lights heading towards them through the trees. Willow glanced over her shoulder. “Alex, come on. ”

  The stillness of the human form gouged at him. He gripped Willow’s hand, and they took off jogging through the trees. Every step felt like his arm was being sledgehammered, but the pain helped clear his head.

  “Who’s searching?” he panted. “Angels?”

  “No, just soldiers; they must have heard the gunfire – Oh, thank god!” They’d come out onto a hill bisected by a two-lane road; the 4 × 4 sat hidden in the shadows on the shoulder.

  Willow unlocked it and threw the passenger door open, her face tightening as she turned to him. “Here, get in. ”

  Yeah, Alex thought with grim humour, this probably wasn’t his night to drive. He climbed in, breathing hard and dropping his head back. Willow sprinted around the truck and got into the driver’s seat.

  “Good, we’re on a slope,” she muttered. She put the truck in neutral; obediently, it began rolling forward as she steered it onto the road. They glided through the night, slowly picking up speed; after a few minutes, Willow twisted the key in the ignition and slammed down on the accelerator.

  “Hold on,” she said. “Alex, just hold on. ”

  At first he thought she meant hold on because she was driving fast; then he felt the wetness on his fingers and realized that blood had soaked through the T-shirt and was coursing down his arm, warming his skin. “I’m fine,” he murmured, closing his eyes. Weirdly enough, it seemed true. He felt warm, drifting.

  Sometime later, the truck’s lulling motion turned to a harsh lurching. Alex opened his eyes reluctantly; the headlights showed another dirt road. Willow jerked them to a stop. Turning on the cab light, she lunged into the back of the truck and pulled out the first-aid kit.

  She rooted frantically through it. “What do we have, what do we have…?” Alex watched her, still feeling oddly disconnected. There was blood from his arm on her hands.

  He smiled. “You should just use what you’re wearing,” he murmured.

  Though she didn’t answer, he could tell she knew what he was talking about: the time she’d been shot herself, and he’d taken off his T-shirt to bind her wound.

  Relief sagged her shoulders as she pulled out a large square packet. “This says it’s for binding wounds. ” She straddled him on the passenger’s seat.

  Alex tried to grin. “Hey, this is getting better and better. ”

  Willow was close to tears. “Shut up, please just shut up! Oh god, it went right through your arm…” She stretched away to fumble in the first-aid kit again and came back with a brown plastic bottle. “Okay, this is going to hurt. ”

  She eased off his T-shirt bandage and poured liquid over his arm. He gave a yelp as fire sizzled through him. The clarity was immediate, throbbing with pain. “What the hell is that?”

  “Hydrogen peroxide,” said Willow. She doused his wound again; Alex clenched his jaw hard. The pain was like someone gouging knives in his raw skin.

  “You just poured peroxide on my arm?” he said when he could speak again. Twisting his head, he saw the liquid bubbling and frothing. “Jesus – I thought you loved me. ”

  “It’s all I could find,” she said shortly as she tore open the white packet. “And it’s better than getting your arm infected. ”

  He wasn’t sure about that but didn’t argue. Willow wrapped the bandage around his arm; it was some kind of high-tech netting that stopped the bleeding in its tracks. Then she carefully strapped the whole thing in place with surgical gauze.

  “I think that’ll hold,” she said at last. “At least it’s stopped the bleeding. ”

  Alex reached for her hand, squeezing it. “It’s fine. Thank you. ”

  “The only painkiller I saw was Tylenol,” said Willow after a pause, her voice stilted. “Do you want a couple?”

  Alex shook his head, gazing at the delicate angles of her face. “You know, I can never get over how beautiful you are,” he said.

  Her eyes were bright with tears again. “Alex, you—” She stopped short. Reaching up, she snapped off the cab’s light, then lay down beside him, circling his waist with her arm.

  The sudden dark was a caress. Pain still beating through him, Alex stroked Willow’s hair, feeling it glide softly past his fingers. “I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I had to see for myself. ”

  “I know,” she said against his chest. “When I woke up, I just knew right away where you’d gone. I didn’t need to be psychic for that. ”