Villainous [Wattys 2021 Shortlist]

20: Venom

Dante took her arm gently. "Look at me. Delilah. I'm not going to let you die."

Her breathing was coming in sharp bursts. "I - she's a monster - her venom -"

"We don't know how much venom she injected into you, or what it will do. Now take deep breaths. Count to ten with each breath. You need to slow your heart rate or the venom will spread faster."

He scooped her up into his arms, grunting in pain, and carried her into a patch of shade caused by a mound of sand. "Keep your arm below your heart level. I'm going to make a splint."

He unwrapped his satchel while Delilah tried and failed to calm down. With every beat of her heart, the pain seemed to spread.

Dying. Death was not a factor she incorporated into her schemes - she could not die until she'd achieved her goal. Death had seemed so impossible, so far away, to her before. With her fighting skills and training, she'd felt invincible. This was jarring - this ruined everything. She couldn't die as a nameless, worthless princess, to be forgotten by the world.

Dante gently cut through her sleeve, exposing the wound.

Her stomach churned at the sight of the two punctures and the mottled, angry purple and red flesh that surrounded it. Her arm felt numb, and terror seized her.

"Don't cut it off," she begged.

"I won't." He took a strip of fabric and tightly bound two sticks of firewood to her arm, immobilising it.

"I need antivenom," she said. "But there are no hospitals out here."

Dante released her arm and turned away from her while he probed his side through a rip in his shirt.

She narrowed her eyes. "She bit you, too."

"No, it's just a scratch."

"I don't believe you." Something about his voice...

"I'm fine. Come on. We should keep moving - Terra is known for its medicine and knowledge."

"I can't travel like this!" She felt her voice rising into hysteria.

"We can't stay here." Dante rounded on her, his own blood shining on his fingertips. "That monster will find us - or the soldiers will. If we stay on the move we might run into villages where we can get help. So walk. Now."

Glaring, she struggled to her feet, sheathing her sword and grabbing her bag. "Don't speak that way to a dying girl."

"Shut it, Coppin. Save your energy for walking."

"I'll haunt you," she warned, but began to stumble after him, her left arm hanging uselessly by her side and throbbing viciously. Already she felt very weak, and it frightened her.

"I don't doubt that you will. But the way I see it, there are two ways this can pan out: either you'll die within an hour no matter what we do, or you live, which means the venom spreads slowly and we have time to find help."

"My arm's swelling up," she said, her voice more high-pitched than she'd ever heard it. Her treacherous heart picked up speed again, as if it wanted her dead.

The pain burned. She hardly noticed the sun, the discomfort of struggling north through the desert. Dante pointed out the sea to her, but she just stared at it blankly, overwhelmed with the idea of her imminent demise.

"I didn't want to die like this." She stumbled and he caught her, steadying her while she clutched him with her good arm.

"You are not dead yet," Dante snarled in her face. "A soldier that convinces himself he'll die on the battlefield usually does. There will be a cure in Terra. Come on - we're not that far."