“what do you mean you’re fine? you are not fine!”
The blood splatters against the floor in even drips.
It really could have been worse. Instead of a gross laceration near her abdomen, it could have been Jason’s machete splitting her in two. It could have been someone else. Someone slower, or someone too captivated by fright to keep moving.
That doesn’t stop Chad from arguing with her when she breathes out a well-worn excuse: “I’m fine, Kensington. Seriously.”
Tiffany slumps against the cabin wall, hand pressed up against the wound. Chad stands in front of her, gawking and seemingly unsure of what to do with his hands. Neither of them had anything resembling first aid.
“Stop, okay?” She closes her eyes, ignores the dull throb in her abdomen. Ignores how she can practically feel Chad’s panic radiating off of him. Ignores the fact that none of the other counseolors have said a single word over the radio in the past few minutes.
“I know you want to help, but you can’t right now. So, help me up and maybe we can manage to find a way out of this if we’re lucky.”
