91. Sloan
NINETY-ONE
SLOAN
“Wake up, wake up.”
Sloan opened her eyes, ready to see what life after death looked like. To her wonder, it looked exactly like the life she just left.
“We have to get you to a doctor.”
Sloan focused on the voice. It was Cherish, the young girl she had met before the fight.
“I saw everything.” Cherish pushed an empty paper bag against Sloan’s wound. “Come on, we have to get you help.”
“I’m past help.” Sloan didn’t try to regain her feet. She knew what a wound like hers meant. “There’s not a doctor in New Hope who could save me now.”
“So what, you’re just going to give up?” Anger filled Cherish’s voice. “What about all that motivating stuff you told me? Was that all lies? Do you want to live, or do you want to die? You decide that, no one else.”
A light bulb went off in Sloan’s mind. The chances of it working were minimal, but at this point, she didn’t have a whole lot to lose.
“Help me up.” Sloan motioned to Cherish. “Is that—is that the hamburger bag you’re using to stop the bleeding?”
“Yep.” Cherish herself nearly fell helping Sloan to her feet.
The pain upon standing was the worst Sloan had ever felt. Her breathing came in short, wheezing gasps. Every second was accompanied by not only numbing agony, but also a force that worked against her trying to drag her back into the blackness.
“The palace.” Sloan winced, trying not to put too much of her weight on the girl. “Do you know how to get there? I mean, the back entrance through the garden.”
“I do.” Cherish leaned down to gather Sloan’s sword. “We can stick to the shadows. Let’s go.”
Sloan and Cherish made their way down the blood-soaked alley.
Although the street on which the battle had taken place was located in the business district, a handful of people still dared to look out their windows, a few even brave enough to peek around a corner.
No one besides Cherish had offered assistance.
The next few miles were ones Sloan didn’t remember, having faded in and out of a conscious state. The only thing on her mind was putting one foot in front of the other. She knew if she could do that enough times, she had a chance of making it to the palace.
“You’ll be all right. You’ll be all right,” Cherish repeated like a mantra. “We can get you to the palace.”
Sloan didn’t say a word. It wasn’t that she didn’t agree with Cherish; she just couldn’t spare the extra effort without either falling over or passing out altogether.
Time proved Cherish right. Staying in the shadows, they somehow managed to avoid running into any patrolling soldiers. Likewise, the citizens they did come across were either too busy talking to one another or wrote Sloan off as a drunk being aided home by a younger sibling.
Soon, the back of the palace was in front of them.
A black wrought-iron gate guarded the Queen’s garden before opening up to the palace itself.
The same moon that had witnessed the fight earlier still shone bright, unhindered by the few clouds roaming the night sky.
“You saved me tonight.” Sloan pushed herself off Cherish.
She wobbled on her feet under the pressure of the pain pouring over her body from her right side.
“Cherish, thank you. I owe you my life.”
“I can go with you,” Cherish said, trying to take Sloan’s arm again. “I can help you.”
Sloan’s eyes wandered to the two soldiers standing guard by the gate entrance.
It was impossible for Sloan to tell what they had been ordered to do once they came in contact with Sloan, if anything at all.
Was it simply Scar and his vampires who had been eager to kill Sloan in the process of capturing Aareth, or was there a standing order to kill Sloan on sight?
Either way, there was only one way to know for sure.
“You’ve done more than your part tonight.” Sloan winked at Cherish. “But I may call on you soon. Will you be ready?”
“I will.” Cherish’s eyes widened in wonder. “Anything you need.”
“Perfect. Go now. I’ll come find you when this is all over.”
“Do you promise?”
“You have my word, Cherish.”
“All right, then.” Cherish turned to go. “And thanks again for the burger.”
Cherish vanished into the night, back down the path they had taken to reach the palace. A trail of blood marked the way.
Sloan tried not to think of how much blood she had lost in the process. One thing was certain, she felt weak and cold. If the guards on duty did not welcome her, she was out of luck.
As she limped closer to the two guards, familiar voices drifted to her on the wind.
“And then I told him that if he didn’t move out of his mother’s house, I was going to leave him.” Private Pia breathed a heavy sigh. “I mean, we’re not kids anymore. Is it too much to ask? I can’t support us both on a private’s salary.”
“Hey, you’re preaching to the choir over here, girlfriend.
” Sergeant Harrison shrugged his massive shoulders.
“I’ve only just begun to get my life together.
You can’t let people pull you down. It’s hard ending relationships, but you can’t save them if they don’t want to save themselves, am I right? ”
“You’re not wrong.” Pia shook her head. “I hate adulting. Can we just go back to being kids?”
Sergeant Harrison had his back turned to Sloan. Sloan saw Pia peek over his shoulder as she caught sight of something moving in the dark.
“Halt! Who—Captain Sloan?” Pia dropped her rifle. She moved past Sergeant Harrison to Sloan’s side. “What happened?”
The concern in Pia’s voice told Sloan all she needed to know. There was no hunt for her. Scar and his vampires had decided to kill her because she was there, not because the Queen had ordered her death.
“Help me.” Sloan slumped against Pia’s shoulder. Once again, she felt lightheaded. “Take me to the armory.”
“The armory?” Sergeant Harrison took her other arm and wrapped it around his shoulder. “You need a doctor. We should take you to the infirmary.”
“You have to trust me.” Sloan sagged between the private and the sergeant, wondering how she had ever walked without their help. “I need to see Edison at the armory as fast as you can take me there.”
“All right.” Sergeant Harrison exchanged a nod with Pia. “The armory, it is. What happened to you?”
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Sloan knew she had been asked a question. The loss of blood had addled her thoughts to the extent it was difficult to concentrate on much of anything.
Sloan’s head sagged. She was being half-carried, half dragged. Her right arm was over Pia’s neck, her left wrapped around Sergeant Harrison’s. The scene around her changed from the outside dark to bright mage lights inside the palace.
For whatever reason, Sloan could only think about the sergeant’s throat and what she had done to him on the training ground.
“I’m sorry,” Sloan mumbled. Blood poured out of her mouth.
“What?” Pia asked.
“His throat.” The words came out of Sloan’s lips like she was drunk. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“I’ll be fine.” The sergeant grabbed Sloan tighter as the trio hurried forward like some kind of six-legged amoeba. “I deserved it. In a strange way, it was a wakeup call for me.”
Sloan wanted to say more, but she was fading quickly.