And Then, The World Ended

Chapter 18 Hayes

"He needs a medic, now!" I yell, my voice cracking with the effort of keeping my shit together. Noah bleeds out in my arms, his life staining my hands crimson. My heart thunders in my chest, a frantic drumbeat against my ribs.

My gaze locks on Noah's face, pale and slick with sweat. His chest hitches with a ragged breath, each one a victory against the encroaching darkness. I can't lose him. Not like this. Not after...

"Hayes," Sophie's voice pierces through the chaos, sharp and desperate. "We have to go. Now!"

I don't want to move. I can't bring myself to tear my eyes away from Noah. It's my fault he's like this. My fault for dragging him into this mess. My fault for ever thinking I could keep him safe.

"Hayes!" Jordan's voice, usually so playful, now trembles with urgency. He grabs my arm, his fingers digging into my skin. "We have to go!"

V shoves past me, scooping Noah into his arms like he weighs nothing. I stumble back, fear a cold fist squeezing my insides. The warehouse echoes with the sounds of our frantic escape: the scrape of shoes on concrete, the frantic thud of my own heartbeat.

The slam of the van doors behind us is like a period at the end of a sentence. We're racing through the darkness, the city lights a blur outside the windows. My stomach churns with every turn, every near miss. I grip the armrest, my knuckles bone white.

"How bad is it?" I ask, my voice rough.

V doesn't look up from where he's working on Noah, his face grim beneath the flickering interior lights. "Through and through," he mutters, more to himself than to me. "He'll need surgery."

Surgery. The word hangs in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. I don't even want to think about what that means.

Sophie sits beside me, her hand reaching for mine. Her touch is grounding, a reminder that I'm not alone in this. Jordan leans forward from the front seat, his expression a mirror of my own fear.

"He's strong," Jordan says, his voice thin but steady. "He'll pull through."

I want to believe him. I need to believe him. But the image of Noah, blood blooming on his shirt, is seared into my brain. I close my eyes, trying to shut it out, trying to hold onto hope.

Emiko sits across from me, her face ashen. Her eyes, usually so full of warmth, are now cold and distant. I can practically feel the guilt radiating off of her in waves.

"This is my fault," she whispers, her voice cracking.

I open my eyes, meeting her gaze. "No," I say, my voice raw. "This is Hanami. This is on them."

But even as I say the words, a part of me echoes her guilt. I brought Hanami into their lives. I brought this danger down on all of them.

The van screeches to a halt, jarring me back to the present. We're at the safe house, the same one where Noah... where he...

I can't think about that now. I push open the van door and stumble out, the night air cold against my skin. V is already carrying Noah inside, moving with an urgency that sends a fresh wave of fear through me.

"Get him prepped," V orders, his voice clipped and professional. He disappears through a door at the end of the hallway, Noah's limp hand brushing against the doorframe as he passes.

Emiko stands frozen in the middle of the room, her eyes wide and unseeing. I cross the space between us, putting my hand on her arm.

"Emiko," I say, my voice soft. "He'll be okay."