Chapter 34 Grace
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
GRACE
He’s going to fucking die.
I knew it as soon as he walked through the door, face pale as snow.
It looked like all of his blood had poured from the nasty gash on his thigh, coating his clothing and staining the fabric a dark purple color.
Now that he’s collapsed, a growing puddle of red spreads across the floor, a stark contrast to the pristine white tile.
I clutch the bars, trying to breathe through my panic. My eyes fall to the little key sitting in Seven’s outstretched hand, and I know what I have to do next.
Getting close to the ground, I slide my hand beneath the cage bars, wincing as the metal scrapes against my flesh. Determined not to die in this place, I push through the pain, grabbing the key ring with the tips of my fingers.
“Yes!” I draw my hand back slowly, making sure not to lose my grip on the key—I have no desire to repeat that painful experience.
It takes me thirty minutes, but somehow, I manage to fit the key into the little slot without dropping it. Another twenty, and I’m able to turn it fully, and the cage door swings wide.
Choking back a cry of relief, I crawl out on all fours, careful to avoid the sticky red pooling around Seven’s lifeless body.
Knowing from experience I probably won’t be able to walk, I continue crawling toward the exit, my skin prickling with anxiety the closer I get to freedom. Once I’m at the door, I freeze, unable to make my body move any farther.
I look back over my shoulder, taking in Seven’s overly still body, the blood still pouring from the wounds covering his skin. If I leave now, Seven will die, and I don’t know if I could forgive myself.
“Don’t do it,” I mutter under my breath. “Do not fucking do it.”
But I’m already crawling back to Seven’s body, too far gone to turn around and escape like I should.
Even though he’s cruel, even though he’s deranged, I can’t deny the part of me that calls to him and wants him.
Maybe that makes me just as fucked up—maybe more—but I’m tired of pretending that I can just walk away from him and be okay.
He’s under my skin now, and there’s no way I’m getting him out of my system. I don’t want to.
I crawl to his body, not caring that I’m kneeling in his blood. I have to inspect his injuries, and I can’t do that without getting a little messy.
With all my strength, I manage to flip him onto his back, but there’s an awful squelching noise that accompanies the movement, and bile creeps up my throat.
Taking a deep breath, I force myself to look down at the horrible injuries covering his skin.
Dozens of small gashes on his arms and neck are leaking blood, but that’s not what concerns me.
Grabbing Seven’s blade, I cut away the fabric covering his legs, exposing the wound on his thigh. As soon as it’s uncovered, I gasp, holding my hand to my mouth as dread hardens in the pit of my stomach.
The gash cut into his thigh is at least five inches in length, and with every beat of his heart, dark red liquid gushes from the wound, sliding down his thigh and joining the growing halo of blood on the floor. It’s no wonder he looks so pale, so lifeless.
“Oh my God,” I whisper. “What… what am I supposed to do…”
In a trance, I lean forward, rifling through Seven’s pockets in the hopes I might find something useful. All I discover are more weapons, a syringe filled with a strange blue liquid, and Seven’s locked phone—nothing that could save his life.
“Dammit.”
I gaze desperately at the growing pool of blood.
I could try calling for help, but I have no idea where my phone is.
Besides, I doubt he’ll make it the two hours it takes for anyone to show up.
Once they do, they’ll be more interested in arresting Seven than saving his life.
Thinking about it, I doubt he would receive any medical care at all once they figure out he’s Red 7.
At the height of my despair, my mind travels to Saffron.
She would know what to do. She always knows how to make everything better.
She’s seeing a doctor… at least she was the last time I spoke to her.
If I can get his number from her, maybe he’d be willing to help.
It’s a long shot, but it’s my only option right now.
I stare down at the locked phone in my hands. What would Seven use as his password? An important date? A birthday?
Randomly, I type in the four digits to my birthday, expecting it to lock me out. But to my utter surprise, the phone opens.
Seven… you crazy bastard.
“I can’t believe that worked,” I whisper, staring down at the lit screen. With trembling fingers, I type in Saffron’s phone number that I know by heart, and wait for it to ring.
She picks up on the fifth one. “Hello?”
“Saffron,” I sob. “Saffron, it’s me. It’s Grace.”
“Grace! Oh my God, where are you? Are you hurt? I’m getting in my car right now to come get yo—”
“Saffron, wait. You can’t.”
“Like hell I can’t! I don’t care who that motherfucker is, I’m going to rip his throat out and piss on his corpse.”
My eyes flit to Seven’s lifeless body, a sob working its way up my throat. “You may not have to…”
“What? Grace, please, just tell me where you are.”
“Are you still seeing Dr. Herrera?” I blurt out, desperation clouding my mind.
“What the hell does that matter? I—”
“Please, Saffron,” I beg. “Please, just answer me.”
She’s silent for a long beat, and then, “He’s actually here with me now. Why, Grace? What’s going on?”
I take a deep breath. “I don’t have time to explain. I promise I will eventually, but I can’t right now. I need… I need to know how to fix a nicked thigh artery.”
“....a nicked what?”
“Saffron, please!” My eyes well with unshed tears. “Please! Please, just put him on the phone.”
There’s a shuffling noise, and a soothing male voice says, “Hello… this is Dr. Herrera.”
“Thank fucking God,” I whisper, feeling faint. “I need help. There’s someone here bleeding really heavily, and I need to stop it before he… before he….”
“You need to get him to a hospital,” he says, matter-of-factly. “If his artery really is cut like you told Saffron, he needs immediate medical attention.”
I shake my head, dread hardening in my gut. “I… can’t. The hospital is not an option.”
“Grace, please tell us what’s happening. We can call an ambulance,” Saffron says, her voice tinny like she’s on speakerphone. “We can help you.”
“There’s no time! Please! I think I can do something, I just need to know what.”
There’s a deep sigh, and then Dr. Herrera asks, “Do you have access to a blade and a lighter?”
“I think so.”
“You’re also going to need gauze, antiseptic, and sutures. Since you don’t have access to that—”
“I do, actually.” My mind flashes with an image of the room with medical supplies Seven showed me the day we rescued Zorro. “I have all of it.”
Dr. Herrera lets out a long sigh. “Okay. Get all of that, a big knife, and a lighter. Since the hospital is out of the question, you’re going to need to cauterize it.”
“Like… burn it?”
“Exactly,” he says. “It’s been done in the field successfully in the past, when the situation is dire. It’s not sterile, or recommended, but if what you say is true, it’s our only option.”
“Okay.” I stand on shaking legs. “Okay, I’m going to grab the stuff.”
“I’ll stay on the line.”
Taking a deep breath, I stand and make my way out of the room in search of the medical supply room Seven showed me when we found Zorro. I know there will be something in there to help him—I just have to find it first.
It takes me a good fifteen minutes of searching, but I finally locate the room.
Blood smears across the door as I push my way inside, and bile rises in my throat when I remember who it belongs to.
Shaking my fears aside, I rush over to the large cabinet I saw Seven go to when he was treating the raccoon, hoping there’s something in there for humans.
It takes me a few tries to open the cabinet due to the horrible trembling of my fingers, but once I do, it’s worth it. My eyes fall on a box of medical sutures, and I snatch it up, holding the box tight to my chest as I scan the shelf for gauze and anything else that might be useful.
I grab a couple of boxes of gauze, some antibiotic ointment, a lighter, plus a roll of that stretchy self-adhesive bandage they use when you give blood. With my arms full of supplies, I rush back to the white room, hoping Seven is still breathing.
I kneel beside his limp body, looking for chest movements, but it doesn’t look like he’s breathing, and the pool of blood has grown considerably larger since I was last here.
My chest clenches with despair, and I begin to fear the worst has happened. Not wanting to believe it, I lean down and press my ear to his chest, praying for a heartbeat.
There! There it is!
It’s weak, but it’s there—though, I know I don't have much time left to help him.
“Okay,” I say into the phone. “Okay. I’m back.”
“Do you have all the supplies?”
“I do.”
Dr. Herrera sighs. “Alright. The first thing you need to do is stop the bleeding. Heat the blade until it’s red-hot, then—carefully—-push the flat of the blade into the wound.
You might try peeling the skin apart so you can get deeper into the wound—it’s going to bleed a lot, but just keep your cool.
You must remain calm, Grace. You need a steady hand. ”
“Okay…” I swallow hard as I gaze down at Seven, my stomach twisting with dread.
I’ve never been formally trained for this.
Sure, I’ve taken basic first aid courses and been certified in CPR, but this is so far beyond my abilities.
Even if I do manage to fix his thigh, he could be bleeding internally, or suffer an infection.
But I have to try. It’s his only chance.
Carefully, I heat the blade, waiting until the steel turns a bright orange color before I pull the lighter away. With slick, bloody hands, I inch the tip toward the wound.
“It’s hot. Do I just… go for it?”
“Yes. But don’t forget to use the flat of the blade, and to pull apart the skin. You don’t want to cauterize the outside and leave the bleeder on the inside. That’s a death sentence.”
“Okay….” Sucking in a steadying breath, I peel the skin apart, pressing the flat of the blade deep into the wound. As soon as it makes contact, an angry sizzling sound emanates from the wound, and my stomach turns at the sight of the blood bubbling up from the gash.
Careful not to cut any of the surrounding tissue, I press the blade down flat like Dr. Herrera said, praying that I manage to cauterize whatever vein has been nicked.
When the sizzling ceases, I pull back, holding my breath as I watch the wound, sure that the blood will begin oozing again. Only, it doesn't.
“Fuck yes.” I let the blade clatter to the floor, and a manic laugh bubbles past my lips. “It… it stopped. I did it.” I reach up, wiping a tear from my eye as my adrenaline fades, leaving me more empty than I’ve ever felt in my life.
I’m exhausted, but my job is far from over.
“Great job, Grace. How does the wound look?”
“It’s … angry. The gash is still there, but it’s not bleeding anymore.”
“Perfect. You must have gotten it. You said you have sutures?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll need to sew the skin together. If he moves, it could cause the bleeding to start again.”
“I’m… not much of a sewer…”
“It doesn’t have to be pretty. It just has to hold.”
Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I reach for my box of surgical sutures and pull out one of the curved needles.
Happy to find the thing has been threaded for me, I go to work on Seven’s wound, sewing jagged stitches into Seven’s flesh.
It’s a sloppy job, but it should hold. That’s all that matters at this point.
I sit back on my heels, wiping the back of my hand over my sweat-slicked brow.
“All done,” I whisper. “He’s got a lot of smaller cuts… should I do anything about those?”
“It would be best to dress them with some sort of gauze.
“Okay.”
I get to work on his less serious injuries. For many shallow cuts, all I do is apply the ointment, add a strip of absorbent gauze, and wrap it with bandages. It’s inferior work, but it does stop the worst of the bleeding.
“I’m done.” I stare down at Seven’s still body. “I… thank you, Dr. Herrera.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” he mutters. “There’s a great chance he’s still bleeding internally, or that he’ll contract some kind of infection. He needs to go to a hospital, Grace.”
“Listen to him, Grace,” Saffron says. “Just… tell me where you are. We can send an ambulance to pick you both up—”
“I can’t, Saf.” I clutch the phone tight. “He’s… he can’t go to the hospital. They’ll… they’ll take him away from me.”
“Take him away from you? What the hell is going on, Grace?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “But I do know that I can’t come home now. Not for a while.” My throat tightens. “I’m sorry, Saffron. I’ll explain everything eventually. But right now, I need to go.”
“Why, Grace? Just tell me why?”
“Because… because I think I love him,” I say. “I’m sorry. I have to go. I love you, Saf.”
“Grace! Don’t you dare hang up on me!”
“I’m so sorry.” I press the end call button.
My heart hurts when I think about the worry I’m putting her through—after all the help she’s just given me. But I can’t go back now. I can’t tell Saffron where I am, or what’s happened. Not yet. Soon, but not yet.
Right now, I just have to make sure Seven makes it through the night.
With the last of my strength, I leave to retrieve a rag and some warm water, sitting at Seven’s side and tending his wounds as best I can, given the circumstances.
Once he’s somewhat clean, I leave to grab a few blankets from Seven’s bedroom, spreading them out on the un-bloodied part of the floor next to Seven.
I wish I could move him away from that disgusting puddle, but I know I lack the strength to do it.
I stay with him all night and into the morning, holding his hand and counting the space between his breaths, terrified they’ll stop altogether.
Some unknown amount of time later, Seven begins to stir. His eyes crack open, but his vision is unfocused, and when he opens his mouth to speak, no sound comes out. He tries to reach out to my face, but his arm falls halfway, too exhausted to make it the last few inches.
“It’s okay.” I rub my palm over his heated forehead. “I’m here.”
He shakes his head as real, genuine tears well up in his eyes. “Not forever…”
“Shh. Don’t think about that. Just rest.”
He turns his head, looking into my soul with those deep bloodred eyes. He sounds so tortured, so heartbroken, it makes my chest ache.
“I wish you wanted to stay with me. I wish… I wish… you could see past the monster.” His lips tip in a sad smile, and my heart cracks in two. “It was stupid to hope. Wasn’t it?”
I never get to respond because in the next moment, Seven’s eyes close, and he falls into another deep sleep.