The Risks

June: Chapter 13

PARKER

"Claire, wait!" I shouted as I saw her bolt out the door.

I followed her out the door, pulling out my pistol. She was too far ahead of me and I saw the bullet barely miss her. But this time I saw exactly where the bullet had come from. Francis was there, perched in a tree just beyond the pond. How many times had I walked under that tree in the last twenty four hours? Had he been there, looking down on me as I'd passed? I grimaced at the thought.

I began firing in the direction in which the shot came, hoping to hit him or at least distract him. A bullet finally connected with Francis just as he shot again. The bullet hit the ground near Claire and Oakley, and I watched as he fell from the tree.

When I reached the two of them, I hesitated. I looked down at Oakley as she stared desperately at Claire, nothing but terror in her eyes. Claire's breathing was panicked and ragged as she stared at her sister. I knew the pain she was feeling. I wanted to comfort her, but there was nothing I could do and we had no time.

Oakley was gone.

Claire just stared at Oakley, horrorstruck. She didn't move, she didn't blink, she didn't even seem to be breathing.

I leaned down and wrapped my hand around Claire's bicep telling her we needed to go, but she became a rock. Pulling lightly on her wouldn't get her anywhere.

I looked back up in Francis's direction to see him standing back up, putting all his weight into one leg, and readying his weapon to shoot again.

I pulled hard on Claire's arm, lifting her off the ground slightly. As I did so, Francis fired again and his bullet slammed into her, pushing her back. I heard Francis scream "Hoorah!" in the distance. My body froze as I watched blood blooming like a red rose over her shoulder, horrified.

She'd been shot.

I tore my eyes from her wound and looked at her face. She hadn't seemed to notice what had happened to her, she only continued to reach for her sister.

I dragged her up the hill and toward the house, glancing behind to see Francis limping in our direction. Claire collapsed into the grass, hair falling into her face. I tried to coax her back up, but she wasn't listening, she wasn't trying. I scooped her up and continued on.

Panic was threatening to overcome my senses. I worked hard on pushing it away and focusing on a goal. I just had to get her inside and I could fix her up. She'd be okay. She had to be.

"It's alright. I've got you," I told her softly. "Just look at me. Don't close your eyes, just look at me. Keep your eyes on me, Claire."

We were almost to the back door now as I watched desperately as her vacant gaze looked somewhere beyond me and her eyelids drooped closed.

"Claire?" I whispered as if she were just sleeping.

I sank clumsily to my knees, holding her limp form in my arms. The blood. There was so much blood. Was she breathing? I couldn't tell. I needed to check for a pulse but I couldn't seem to make my hands move. I stared silently, my mouth hanging open just slightly. I held my breath. She looked completely lifeless.

"No," I breathed, feeling tears fall down my face. "Wake up, Claire. Come on, wake up. I need you to wake up. I need you to look at me. Please... Don't do this. Please."

But no matter how much I begged, her eyes did not open.

I leaned my forehead against hers and held her. My tears fell onto her face and I wiped them away numbly, smearing blood. Through the red, I could see a light spray of freckles across her nose and cheekbones.