Hybrid

THIRTY-EIGHT

⫷ ARIA ⫸

Caleb's blood splatters against the walls, some landing on me. The next bullet, pointed for me, was supposed to hit my head. Finn pulls the trigger and, in that exact moment, I hurl myself in Caleb's direction. I feel the pain of the bullet sinking into the back of my right shoulder.

Then, my body collides with the cold grounds, just beside Caleb's feet. They don't wait around to see if it killed me. I hear the door slamming behind them.

Shakily, I press the palms of my hands against the floor and push myself up. The movement has me hissing in agony, as the bullet shifts slightly inside of me. I can feel warm blood trailing down my skin, soaking my shirt.

Craning my neck, I see Caleb's pale features. His head is rolled to the side and his eyes are fluttered close. I focus my attention on the ample amount of blood pooling from his chest.

Oh no... Not Caleb.

I rip a piece of my shirt and push it against his seeping wound. Incoherent sobs broke from my lips and the tears cloud my vision as I try to stop the bleeding.

"Caleb," I say in a shaky voice. His blood mingles with mine until all I can see is red. Fear courses through my veins, shaking my skin and rendering me a complete an utter mess.

Caleb can't die. He's one of the good ones. And Kasey... Oh God, Kasey. None of them deserve this.

"Please, don't die," I whisper. I sniffle in, contemplating my next move. My fingers won't stop trembling, even though I'm applying a great amount of pressure against his chest. "Don't die," I repeat, quieter than before. "Kasey needs you. A-and your... your baby needs you. Come on, Caleb. Please."

There's so much blood. It's beginning to soak him from head to toe. On the ground that I'm kneeling on, I can feel both of our blood creating a pool, growing by second. Even my own energy feels depleted, but I don't pull away from him.

Something jerks inside of me, like a sudden burst of physical power. Feeling this unknown rage brew inside of me, I clench my free hand around the chains that bind him and I rip them apart. They clatter against the ground after I drop them.

Caleb immediately falls forward into my arms. I half carry, half drag him toward the door. Only part of me registers the fact that I cannot hear or feel his heartbeat.

Struggling, I manage to grasp my hand around the door handle and rip it open. Each step I take creates a heaviness in my eyes and a tugging in my gut. More than anything, I want to curl up in a ball and sleep. The adrenaline pumps inside of me, fast enough to give me the energy to drag Caleb's limp body down the empty hallway.

Patches of blood on my back have hardened, making my skin feel itchy.

I hold Caleb's body closer to me, realizing just how cold his skin has gotten. I shake away the need to cry and, instead, focus on where I'm leading us.

No matter how many turns I take, I don't see any exits. I pass many rooms similar to the ones that Caleb and I were in. No matter which turn I take, I feel trapped. Like there really is no escape for us.

My lungs burn, more than the bullet on my back. The world contorts in my vision with each step I take. The thudding in my ears becomes louder and the weight of Caleb is almost too much. Like a thousand pounds are lassoed onto my arms, I tremble. I succumb to the weakness, needing the walls support to keep us upright.

"He's already dead," a voice speaks from behind me.

I freeze with my back to the voice, mostly because I know that I don't have enough energy to fight. Not now. Not with Caleb's skin growing colder by the second.