Void (The Youngest, Book 3.B.)

Chapter 十四

When Coach fell, everything seemed to freeze for a second, before chaos erupted around him. Students crowded in, their faces twisted in shock and confusion. Coach lay still, the arrow protruding from his abdomen, before he suddenly started moving, a guttural scream tearing out of his throat.

"Get it out of me! Get it out of me!" Coach shouted, his voice cracking as he tried to thrash about. Scott, Stiles, and Aiden worked frantically to keep him still, trying to stop him from moving.

"Coach, you're not going to die!" Stiles tried, his own voice trembling, his hands pressing desperately against the wound to stem the bleeding.

"Oh my god, I'm gonna die! I'm gonna die! Get it out of me!" Coach screamed.

Aiden leaned in, trying to help calm him. "Coach, it hurts less if you stop moving!"

But the panic was too much for Coach, who kept thrashing and yelling for them to remove the arrow. "Get it out of me!"

Stiles glanced over at Scott, their eyes meeting with shared worry. Stiles' hands were slippery with blood, and he couldn't keep Coach still. The noise, the chaos—it was overwhelming.

"Kylie, stay back," Ethan said as he pulled the little girl closer, picking her up to keep her from getting too close to the scene.

"Get back!" Aiden shouted at the surrounding students, his voice laced with frustration. "Give him some space!"

Scott took a breath, then looked over his shoulder to make sure the others had backed off. When the coast was clear, he grabbed Coach's hand, and, with a grim look of concentration, began to pull at his pain. He could feel the agony flooding into him—hot, searing pain—but he gritted his teeth and kept going until he saw Coach's thrashing subside. His screams quieted until finally, Coach slumped back, unconscious.

"I think he passed out," Aiden said, relieved as he saw Coach's body go limp.

Stiles stared down at his blood-soaked hands, his fingers trembling. His chest heaved, his eyes wide and panicked. "I could've killed him," he whispered, almost to himself. "What if the arrow had hit his head, or his throat?"

Scott shook his head quickly, his voice steady despite the chaos. "But it didn't, Stiles. He's going to be okay. You saved him."

Aiden nodded as he strained to listen. "I think I hear the ambulance coming."

The faint sound of sirens echoed through the forest, growing louder with every second. Stiles turned his head toward the noise, his eyes darting back and forth as anxiety settled in again. "And my dad," he muttered, fear creeping into his voice.

Scott stood to the side, holding Kylie close in his arms as they watched the paramedics load Coach onto a gurney, guiding him into the back of an ambulance. His eyes then drifted over to Stiles, who was hugging his dad, relief and exhaustion evident in both of their expressions. The sight was bittersweet for Scott. He tightened his hold on his sister, pulling her closer. Even though she was safe now, the thought of how she'd been gone for two days—missing, out of his reach—left a lingering fear in the back of his mind.

"Scott." Ethan's voice pulled him from his thoughts. He approached, holding a bag from Stiles' Jeep. "You better look at this."

Scott set Kylie down gently, giving her a reassuring look before turning to the bag. Ethan opened it to reveal a mix of wires, bolts, screws, and tools. Then, Scott noticed something else: a roll of wrapping paper.

Scott's eyes widened as recognition struck him. "This... this is the same wrapping paper we used for Coach's birthday present."

Ethan frowned. "Wasn't that William Barrow's thing? A bomb made from nails and bolts, all wrapped in a birthday present? Where did it go off?"