WAVE

Chapter 5

A convincing mirage. That's what it must be.

Still, my hand slams down on the metal as hard as I can, over and over again. "Stop! Stop, please! Stop!"

The disoriented people around me try to flag down the driver who eventually begins to slow down once he spots me trying to stand. Grimacing, I rise as fast as I can, grabbing the handle to open the hatch.

"Lady! Please!" The driver waves his arms, shaking his head with wide eyes.

I jump down, rattled. "Please. I think I saw someone, someone I know. Just wait two minutes. Please." He glances down at his watch, and then at all the people waiting on us. I blink, and the tears in my eyes flow freely down my cheeks. "Please!"

He nods, placing his hands on his hips. I rush, wheezing from the exertion it takes to trek through the uneven woods. I duck under branches, holding onto anything I can to keep from falling to my knees, frantically searching for the blue.

"Tristan!"

I search until I'm dizzy, until the tree line begins to blur together.

It's been two minutes.

"Tristan!" I tumble over an uprooted tree trunk. "Tristan!"

They might leave without me. I might lose my transport...but I can't turn back.

Blue. I have to find it. I need to know.

I push through the wilderness, freezing suddenly when I see a man. He's covered in mud, head to toe, but my heart skips. Fucking leaps.

It's him.

It's him.

"Tristan!" I screech, now running. As soon I notice he's swaying, that he's not okay, I don't feel the pain in my ribs. I don't feel my feet. I don't know how I'm moving, but I am. I'm leaping to get to him before he falls. He isn't even lifting his head. He's just stumbling forward like I was. I run straight into him, slamming him hard enough to push us back a few steps. "My god, Tristan."

Grabbing his gnarled curls, I frantically examine his features. He finally looks at me squarely, blatantly trying to focus. In one of his eyes, the capillaries have popped, spreading over the white surrounding the vibrant blue. I look down, seeing blood. It's matted over his shoulder, crinkling his shirt. I grab the collar and gently push it back, choking back a gasp.

There's wood... impaled... in his shoulder.

Aggravated and swollen, the wound is layered with mud and leaves. The stick is protruding, clearly infected. I touch his head, feeling a fever.

"Shit. Tristan, we...we have to go. Can you hear me? We have to hurry. They're going to leave us." I wince, wrapping my arm around his waist, supporting his weight as best I can. He lets out a low groan, stumbling with me. "Tristan, it's me, Gen. Genevieve. Please, we have to hurry."

Grinding my teeth together, I wave my arm, trying to get the attention of anyone in the truck... if they are still there. My lip quivers when I see the driver running into the forest, looking stunned that I actually found someone. He probably thought hallucinations were getting to me.

"This man... I know him. I know him. He's hurt. Please," I beg.

"He can stay. We will come back for him. There's no room."

"No, no! Please. He's barely conscious! We need to take him!" He looks back at the truck, which is filled way past capacity. Tristan's knees are buckling. Even I can feel that. I swallow past the bile that threatens as he unconsciously weighs down my torso, my ribs. "Take him," I blurt out. "Take him then, and come back for me."