Page 83 of Solivagant

JOSIAH

He fucking bit me.

My arm throbbed. Blood continued to gush from the holes his teeth had left in my skin.

Why?

Why had he done that?

Why did he hurt me?

I stumbled.

On top of whatever else I had wrong with me, I now also had to worry about blood loss and infection.

It didn’t make sense. But he’d done it.

I thought I’d been about to die. And as everything faded, more than anyone or anything I’d ever known, only he came to mind. Only the thought of him had brought me any comfort at all.

Then I’d opened my eyes, and he’d been there. He’d come for me, like I knew he would.

I’d thought he would help me. I’d thought somehow he could save me.

Now I was in even more pain.

I felt his eyes on my back. I didn’t turn around. If he wanted to take another bite, there’d be very little I could do to stop him anyway.

I kept walking—well, shuffling—through the woods. I was moving so slowly, every fallen branch a much bigger obstacle than it should have been.

Sweat coated my filthy skin.

I needed a doctor, but I was never going to make it that far, even if he let me leave. I wouldn’t even be able to make it to the wall let alone be able to climb it.

The sky was dark and the fire almost completely burned out by the time I made it back to camp.

My arm was still bleeding.

My body collapsed onto the sleeping bag. The piglet was quick to join me and investigate what was going on as she sniffed at my blood in the grass.

I had a limited supply of water, but I still spared some to cleanse the wound. The bite marks. From him. It stung.

Then I tore through the first aid kit supplies with one hand, finding expired antiseptic, because it were better than nothing, then wrapped it up as best I could with a gauze bandage. It wouldn’t take long for red to seep through the white.

I was so weak. My body was so cold. Both light and floaty, and yet heavy as a sack of bricks.

Something was so very wrong.

Why?

What had I done to deserve this? To deserve what had happened to me in the past?

The wounds over that body. It was clearly murder. Maybe a sacrifice. I thought of the altar, the one that had made my stomach twist and my skin crawl. I think I knew why now.

My head throbbed, and I groaned.

Tusks whimpered outside the tent.

I was a damn fucking fool for trusting him. And I was a damn fucking fool because even now, after he’d given me a strong chance of sepsis, all I wanted was for him to hold me.