The Dead Zone (Book One)

Chapter 18

"Eve, I need you to help me stop the bleeding." The girl had been blubbering non stop since they'd hit the highway, probably due to shock. The bullet hadn't gone all the way through, which meant it was still in there. It also meant they only had one entry wound to worry about.

She peeled back Zach's shirt to better assess the situation. The bullet had missed any vital organs from what she could tell, hitting the top right corner of his chest- more his shoulder than anything. While that was a relief, her imminent lack of medical supplies was not. She'd used the last of her stitches on Bryson, and the last of the cleansing alcohol to burn down the mess hall. Aside from a few bandages, which she tossed to Eve, or whatever-the-hell-her-name-was, she instructed her to put pressure on the wound to staunch the blood flow.

For now, this was all she could do until she and Bryson could think of a plan to get him some help."Bryson, we need medical supplies."

His eyes darted to hers in the rear-view mirror, laced with fury and worry. "Get out the map! There's a city about thirty miles away. Tell me which way to go and if they have a hospital."

Flattening the piece of paper, her eyes scanned for Cedarville and any surrounding cities.

"You're thinking of Bridgeport. I know where the hospital is." The girls voice was soft, reminding Paige of a child, which was weird because it was very obvious that she was near the same age as her.

"She's right. Take exit 32B. There's going to be a rest area not too far from there. We can get Zach setup before we head into the city."

"You're just going to leave him behind?" That childish voice asked again, and Paige wanted to snap from the pressure.

"Well we can't take him into the city! For all we know its packed full of roamers. We wouldn't be able to protect him." She shrank back at Paige's harsh tone, returning her attention to the blood soaked bandages she'd been in charge of putting pressure on. Zach's eyes were closed, fluttering under purpling eyelids. He was losing so much blood.

The rest area was a small building originally meant for truckers. Off to the side was a tidy looking park, equipped with a playground, park benches, and picnic tables that sat quietly, swings blowing in the breeze as if phantom children played there, unaware of the mess that was going on around them. Inside the building, they found pamphlet after pamphlet placed neatly on desks that sat on either side of the room, green folding chairs lining the walls. The only other thing in there was a bathroom. The whole structure was tiny, but at the same time, easily defensible, which was a good thing.

"So, how are we doing this?"

"I need you to stay with him Paige. You-" He pointed at the girl, Zach's friend, her green eyes landing on him. She didn't like the way they lingered a little too long. "What's your name?"

"Evie. Me and Zach were cellmates."

"Okay Evie, you're coming with me." Paige interjected then, not at all liking what she was hearing.

"How do you expect me to stay here? I'm the only one who knows what supplies we're looking for!" Bryson obviously hadn't thought that far ahead. "Okay, tell us what we need to get. We'll find it."

"That will take too long! Don't you get it? I have to go to that hospital."

"Then who will stay with my brother? I need someone who knows what they're doing. Someone I trust watching over him!" But he must have known it was a losing battle, and that they were wasting time here arguing, as both of their eyes swung to Evie.

With the tip of his knife, he pointed to her. "Can I trust you to watch over him?"

She nodded vehemently, her unruly blonde hair bouncing around like crazy. "Of course. He's my friend, and I owe you my life."

"Good. Just remember if anything happens to him on your watch- or I come back here and you're gone- I will hunt you down and kill you myself."

By the shocked look on her face, Paige could tell that Bryson had gotten his point across as he handed her the knife.

She recalled the first day she'd met Bryson. If she remembered correctly, he'd threatened her with that very same blade. If I find out you're lying I'll slit your throat myself. She knew now, of course, that Bryson never would have followed through with his threat. He simply wasn't that kind of man. He was good deep down, using violence was a last resort type of thing. Is it weird that she could almost smile at the memory? Almost.

"Alright Bryson, let's go. We're wasting time."