Deadly Twist by Kendall Talbot

Author:Kendall Talbot [Talbot, Kendall]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-05-12T16:00:00+00:00

Carter blinked his eyes open. With a jolt he realized he’d fallen asleep. If his darkened surroundings were any way to judge, then he’d slept for some time. It also meant he was in trouble. The sun was setting.

He went to sit up, but the weight of Lily’s pack pinned him down. He tugged it off and howled in agony when he rolled to sit.

Sucking in short, sharp breaths, he tried to ward off the pain. The trees around him set off in a slow spin and nausea rushed through him like a tidal wave. He splayed his legs out before him and threw up gushes of water and what little else remained in his stomach.

When the queasiness subsided, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He glanced down at his pants and cringed at the blood staining his left hip. The jagged hole at the center confirmed what he already knew. He’d been shot. The only good news was it looked like the bullet had gone clean through. That was encouraging; maybe his injury wasn’t as bad as he’d thought.

He turned toward the water, searching for signs of life.

“Lily.” His voice was nothing more than a pained croak. He rolled his tongue around his mouth, trying to produce moisture, but it was futile.

Rolling onto his back, he undid the zip on his pants and peeled them open. His heart lurched to his throat at the sight. He’d seen bullet wounds before, many of them fatal. This wasn’t lethal, but if he didn’t do something to stop the bleeding and possible infection, it might become so.

He unclipped the water bottle from the pack and gulped down a few refreshing mouthfuls. His legs were covered in scratches, some as small as paper cuts, some as big as his middle finger. He poured the water over the wounds, creating bloody rivers down his calves.

Turning his attention to the bullet wound, he lay on his right side on the dirt, clenched his jaw, and wriggled out of his shorts and undies. Craning his neck, he peered over his hip to try to see the entry wound. His stomach bucked at the sight. The bullet had gone in high on his buttock and a hole about the size of a button oozed dark blood that trickled in a steady flow down his cheek. The edges of the hole were raised jagged flesh and around that, a red stain seemed to darken before his eyes. The exit wound at his front hip was slightly larger and equally brutal.

He tore his eyes from the blood and charred flesh and panted against crippling nausea. The bullet hole in his shorts was slightly smaller than his wound, and as he poked his finger through the fabric he wondered if any of it had caught in his flesh. He’d seen enough injuries to know that a foreign object in a wound was a surefire way to get an infection. He was certain the bullet had gone right through.

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