Humans Alone (G/T)

Chapter Eighteen

The gunshot was muffled to Michael's ears, his head throbbing in pain while he could only lay there and take each hit Donnie dealt. While every ounce of his body told him to fight back, what could he do? He was weak, he had an injured arm and leg. Even if he tried he wouldn't be able to even bruise the younger Masonin. 

Once the sharp crack of the gunshot rang out, he knew what that sound was even if it was muffled. Then the hits on him stopped. A foot no longer drove into his stomach, his sides. He still didn't dare to open his eyes, waiting for anyone to say anything. Or maybe for the beating to start again. 

Heath watched Donnie's body crumple to the ground, blood pooling around his head from the bullet he placed there. His hands shook, the gun still raised so he was looking down the sight. "I-I shot my son." He whispered, his voice cracking in the process. Soft moans of pain started to bring him back to reality, and finally, he turned back to Michael who lay a bloody, bruised mess on the stone flooring.

Even the guards that had been after Heath to stop him now stared at the crumpled body on the floor, in shock. 

Adrenaline was still kicked in, and despite the horrible pain in his gut Heath lunged toward Michael. He fell to his knees by the human. Rolling him onto his back, and taking him in his arms, easily cradling the smaller being. "Michael, Michael, say something," the Masonin pleaded in a hushed voice. 

The bruises already covering his small arms were terrible, and the bandages that were wrapped around the wolf bite came undone. What had been healing was now gain busted wide open and dripping blood down the arm onto the ground.  

Michael's lips parted and he attempted to speak, only to cough and spit blood. His hands curled tightly around Heath's shirt. His vision was blurry. Every bit of him hurt. 

One of the several guards approached the two, his gruff voice speaking in a soft voice. "Stand up. I'll get you both some help." 

A different guard, who had his gun at the ready looked directly at the one who spoke with disbelief. "Are you insane?! They just killed our leader!"

The first guard cast a dangerous look in the other's direction which shut him right up, then returned his gaze to Heath and Michael. "Come with me. I'll make sure you get the care you need." 

Heath, still cradling Michael in his arms looked cautiously at the guard before him. He felt like he couldn't trust anyone anymore. Not after his own son, the boy he adopted, did this to him. But Michael's ragged breathing made up his mind fairly quick and Heath gave a firm nod. 

He rose to his feet, keeping Michael in his arms and glaring dangerously at each guard that looked like they would take him from him. When he looked at the human, his eyes were closed but he was still breathing. Michael had slipped into unconsciousness, and Heath hoped that he at least couldn't feel the pain while he was out.

The tan-skinned guard ordered the others to stay put while he led them from the dim chamber down a wide hallway. Glancing over his shoulder, he waited until the thick doors were shut behind them before he began speaking quickly in a quiet voice. "I am a member of the High Council, I've been undercover here for quite some time, looking for a weak point. Go about half a mile west of here, you will find a small cottage. It will have everything you need, and I will join you precisely at midnight tonight. Now go."

Heath wasn't sure if he could believe anything this guy was saying. If he was a member of the High Council, why would he be here? Shouldn't he be out at the headquarters? But the determined look on this stranger's face told him otherwise. "Thank you," Heath whispered, still uncertain, but knew Michael needed help. So off he went, walking quickly and silently beside the sound of his feet lightly tapping the stone while he followed a light down the corridor.

If there was light, there was a way out. And sure enough, at the end of the hall, there was a door that led right out into the open world. The sound of birds immediately filled his ears, and the cool breeze felt much better against his skin than the humid air of that stuffy building. He could smell smoke, which he could only guess was burning corpses. 

In the nearby vicinity, his horses were tied up with their bags still secured on their backs. He could at least maybe grab his compass and a knife if he hurried. But he didn't want to risk it. 

Hurrying to get his bearings, he began a steady sprint west, in the direction the stranger told him. His body was screaming at him to stop. The wound in his stomach ached something fierce. He didn't stop though, because he knew when Michael woke up the human would be in more pain than him. And Michael saved his life. Even though he was still scared of him, still nervous, he didn't hesitate to remove the bullet and save him.

By the time the small cottage came into view, Heath felt like he was going to collapse. He couldn't. Not yet. Not when he was so close. The sun had just begun to set in the background. Sweat rolled down Heath's face and neck. His breathing was shaky, his whole body tired. 

Michael was still unconscious in his arms when he threw the door open and crossed the threshold. A few feet away there was a couch, clearly brought from the Masonin's planet but it would have to do. He laid Michael on his back and stretched him out, ensuring that he was fine before he finally collapsed on the opposite end of the couch.

Leaning back, Heath panted, his eyes heavy with pure exhaustion. A hand rose to his bleeding gunshot wound, which thankfully wasn't bleeding too badly. He couldn't even be bothered to close the door. Part of him told him to help Michael, but the other part of him was too tired. His eyes shut, and the things around him faded to black.