This Fearless Girl (St. Clary's University #2) - E. M. Moore Page 0,112
shift under his feet, and he slides down the six-foot drop before stopping abruptly. His feet scramble underneath him, kicking up the loose rocks.
“Lucas?”
He starts to choke, his hand coming up and grabbing his throat. Then I see it—a very thin piece of wire. A trickle of blood slides down his neck and onto his collar.
“It’s choking him!”
Wyatt’s already started down the tricky piece of trail, getting on all fours. He ducks his head and curves his back. “Step on me!” he calls out.
Lucas’ feet search for purchase as I watch in horror. Finally, he finds Wyatt and lifts before throwing himself backward. He hits a huge boulder and falls to his side, groaning and choking almost simultaneously.
I try to grab his hands but slip right out of his grip that’s slick with blood. After wiping red streaks down my pants, I reach for his wrists again and yank him back up the embankment.
He gulps in air, his frantic gaze wide and alarmed. I press my fingers over the slit across his throat, red puddling.
Wyatt scurries up the ledge on his hands and knees until he gets to us. He yanks his pack off and searches through one of the compartments. “Talk to me, Lucas.”
Lucas points to his throat, still gasping for air. “Can you breathe?” I ask.
“A lit—” He coughs, grimacing as it rips through him.
I keep wiping at the blood with red-painted hands. The cut doesn’t look too deep, but it keeps coming and coming, and the sight of it turns my stomach in complete, dominating fear.
Wyatt gets the first aid kit out and dumps hydrogen peroxide on Lucas’ throat. Quickly, he takes out a sterile pad, ripping it open and throwing one to me at the same time. He takes his, placing it over half of Lucas’ wound. My shaking fingers finally get mine open, and I follow suit, placing it on the other half of the slit. “Hold pressure,” Wyatt instructs.
I clamp both my hands down on his neck while Wyatt goes back to the first aid kit.
Lucas breathes sharply, but they’re calmer now. I stare down at him. “Hey.”
He tries to smile, but winces.
I lean over and kiss him on the cheek. “It’s okay. Don’t try to do anything. We’ve got you.”
Wyatt turns toward us. “I’ve got these butterfly bandages, Lucas. Hopefully, it will close up the wound for now. Then, I’m going to wrap gauze around it. Okay?”
Lucas nods.
Wyatt tells me when to move each piece of the sterile pads while he carefully places the butterfly bandages over the thin cut on Lucas’ neck. When he’s sealed it as best he can, we get new sterile pads out, place them over the top, and then cover his neck in gauze.
I place my forehead on his. “Jesus, Lucas.”
Wyatt takes one of Lucas’ hands and attends to it too. “He grabbed the wire, but it was so sharp, he couldn’t regain his footing. It ended up slicing through his palms, too.”
Once he’s finished, I tell him I’ll do the other. I mimic Wyatt’s movements, wiping away the excess blood and carefully using the butterfly bandages to pull the wound together. Then, I place fresh sterile pads over the cuts and wrap his hands with gauze.
We’re definitely not in an ultra-clean environment, and I have no idea if what we’ve done will even help Lucas.
“Can you talk?” Wyatt asks.
Lucas sets his jaw and whispers, “It hurts.”
“Okay, you don’t have to. But are you okay? Thumbs up?”
Lucas lifts his hand, but instead of giving Wyatt a thumbs up, he flips him off.
Wyatt chuckles. “Well, fuck you, too, bro.”
I smile, and Lucas also tries to, but I think it puts too much strain on his neck because his lips don’t curl all the way up.
We sit there for a moment, Lucas pulling to a seated position and staring at the little trail flanked by huge boulders that lead down the short cliff. It’s always a pretty sketchy area, so whoever put the wire there knew what they were doing. They knew we had to go down this path to get out of here.
“Sneaky bastards,” I growl.
Now that we know the wire is there, it’s easy to spot it. It glints a little in the sun.
Wyatt searches through Lucas’ pack, pulls out a hatchet, and stands. Lucas stops him and gets to his feet. Taking the tool from Wyatt, he strides toward the boulders.
“Be careful,” I squeak.
Lucas swings the hatchet, and the sharp edge slices the wire cleanly.