Chapter 43

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IN ALL HONESTY, Devora wasn't quite too sure about what to expect when she had raced towards the building. Her heart was practically bursting through her chest.

She wasn't prepared for the worst. There was no way she would ever be ready to see her best friend lying cold and dead on the floor. She hadn't even told him yet, hadn't even confirmed what it was that she felt for him after all the clues and questions posed by the people around her regarding their relationship.

So when she ran, Devora ran with hope in her heart. She prayed that Nathan had been fortunate enough to survive the ordeal with a small harmless wound. Maybe he would be alright, simply sitting by Cain's table while nursing a bad bruise. Perhaps Candice might be merciful for once in her life and had spared a close friend.

In short, Devora prayed for selfish prayers. She knew they were self-serving desires because just mere moments ago, she was relieved to see another one of her own — albeit a traitor — lying on the ground dying. In other words, Devora's wishes were completely egotistical.

She only wanted to see her loved ones alive and well. No one else mattered.

On her second trip to a building that was originally meant for safety, Devora journeyed alone. She rounded the familiar corners, her feet padding loudly against the cement floor as she ran. When the heavy doors appeared wide open in front of her, she dashed in, almost crying out in relief that she had finally arrived.

Without wasting a second, she dashed in, her eyes searching for Nathan. It landed on his familiar figure a short distance away from the door, lying unconscious and unmoving.

"No," Devora couldn't help but mutter under her breath as she dropped to her knees. She landed right beside Nathan, pulling him into her hold. "Nathan? Nate?"

Her partner's eyes were closed, shut away from the whole world as though he had drifted into the realm of sleep. Nathan was undisturbed by the harsh winds of reality just like how the dead were unperturbed by the world of the living.

"Nathan! Nathan, please, please wake up!" Devora cried.

Grabbing him by the shoulders, she started to gently shake him before her hands jolted away as if he were made of hot lava. On her fingertips was once again the unforgiving shade of ruby, the bright haunting color of metallic blood from a fresh wound.

Instantly, Devora tore at Nathan's top, pulling the cloth apart until his wound was fully exposed before her.

On the left side of his shoulder was a deepened scarlet gunshot wound. The rims of the wound were already starting to darken into a rusty copper, the scent of iron making Devora gag just the slightest. She was never one to stomach the scent of blood and being an assassin didn't change that.

Although the wound was placed dangerously near to Nathan's vital organs, it didn't directly hit any of them. It was a pure miracle. Beneath the smooth palm of her hand, Devora could still feel Nathan's weak heartbeat, undeniably present.

Determined not to leave him behind twice, Devora hoisted Nathan's good arm over her shoulder, careful not to agitate the wound on his left shoulder as she staggered onto her feet. His body weight was pulling her down, the lower half of his body practically dragging across the floor like a ragdoll as Devora soldiered on towards the path of exit.

All the while, the girl only had a single thought in her mind. It fuelled her actions, gifting her energy and strength that she could have probably never mustered on an average day.

"It's okay, Nathan. I'm going to get you out of here. You'll be safe, you'll see."

Sunlight burned against Devora's skin in a welcoming manner, splintering hot rays across her flesh as she stepped out of the man-made shelter and into the woods. Even though the scent of blood was strong, there was no denying that the floral scent provided by the woods was still very prominent. This was, in fact, a good sign because it meant that they were nearer and nearer to the rest of the group and hence safety.

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