Unintentional Subject - Book 1 In The Jessie Series

Chapter 47: We Lived

Turning away from the noise of the on coming Grievers we started down the hall. I was limping quite drastically. Minho and Thomas both tried to grab an arm and help but I shook them off. I had to grind my teeth and growl to keep from crying out. The pain was hot and sharp. I could feel the blood still seeping out.

"Come on." I slowly started to jog down the hall. Slowly picking up my speed.

"She always this stuborn?" I heard Thomas ask Minho.

There was a snort and "You have no shucken clue dude. We don't call her Savage for nothin'!"

"Come on slow pokes. We gotta get moving."

We ran. Running through changing walls and doors, we ran a short cut through a few sections, running as straight as we could.

"I have an idea." I huffed.

"That's concerning." Thomas snarked.

"Awww Thomas, your sarcasm is coming along. I'm so proud of you!"

He rolled his eyes. While Minho snickered.

"Okay, what's your idea Babe?" He asked.

I looked at him with a mischievous grin.

"The cliff."

Minho looked at me for a second, and then I saw his eyes lit up in understanding.

"We use your duck and dive...but at the Cliff."

"Exact." I huffed with a nod.

He matched my evil smile.

"Uhhh? Guys? What cliff?"

"Just slim it and run shuck face." Minho said. As the sound of the Griever got slowly closed, despite our steady running.

We ran through to section four. With a steady fast pace we took turn after turn, knowing exactly where we were going. Minho and I ran in sync, feet slapping on the stone floor at the same time. Mine were uneven, with the limp I had. Every step shot more pain up my leg. I could feel the blood soaking the bandages and slowly leaking down my leg. Our inhaled and exhales had matched. It was just like running a section on a regular day, except it was night, being chased by angry relentless Grievers who would love nothing more than to kill us. My brain shut off, I didn't have the extra energy to think. The turns were automatic and muscle memory.

Minho attempted to speak as we took another sharp turn. Between his heaving breaths he glanced at me.

"Still okay?"

"I'll live." I huffed back.

"I'm fine." Thomas huffed, "thanks for asking."

"He's hung out with you too long already!"

I just had enough energy to smirk. We took another turn and finally Minho slowed down coming to a brisk walk. We were all heaving and sucking air hard. I had been slowing down for the last while. My head was fuzzy. And despite running for almost a full 24 hours, my hands and feet felt cold. I knew I was losing too much blood, the bandages Thomas wrapped were doing nothing. My pants and sock were drenched in warm sticky blood.

I had to stop. I leaned on the wall, lifting all weight off my leg, I leaned my forehead against the wall. I let out a small whimper. Minho turned and frowned at me, fear and worry clear on his face. Walking back over, he placed a hand on my back.

"Jess, babe, come on, let me help. I know your stubborn as shuck. But so am I." He paused, his eyes narrowed and his gentle voice took on a bit of an edge. "And I'm not taking no for an answer. Now let me help you woman!"