As the scene before me started to sink in, my heart plummeted to the pit of my stomach.

I was going to be sick. The sight of the blood made my insides churn so violently they seemed to be forcing their way up my throat, and I clamped a hand over my mouth in an effort to hold them back.

But at the same time, somewhere beneath the physical reaction, my brain was at work – pushing me to return to my senses so I could do what I needed to do.

I rushed forward and dropped to my knees beside Jace. His body was unmoving, his eyes closed, which for an agonising heartbeat made me fear the worst. But then I noticed the shallow rise and fall of his chest that seemed to stop my world from crumbling. He was still breathing, which meant he was still alive, which meant he still had a chance.

I touched his arm gently. When I spoke, I tried to keep my voice light, but there wasn't a force in the universe capable of keeping the panic from seeping in. "Jace."

The sound caused him to stir; his lips parted, making way for a soft groan, and his eyes started to flutter. For the first couple of seconds, they struggled to focus – but eventually they fixed on me, and relief flooded his expression.

Still, he said nothing; he was either too dazed or too weak to form coherent words. As my momentary flash of hope faded, panic rushed in to fill the space, and my eyes swept frantically over the rest of his body. He was covered in blood, his clothes saturated, so much so that I could barely tell what colour his shirt was beneath the sinister red splotches. As my gaze trailed downward, I realised most of it was coming from his left leg, and there was a growing pool on the ground beneath it.

"Oh my God," I breathed.

Shakily, he lifted his head, his gaze attempting to follow mine. "Is it... bad?"

I didn't have a clue: not when all I could see was blood, when it was everywhere, over everything, and now burned into my mind forever. The bullet had obviously gone somewhere, but I couldn't even see where the wound was, let alone assess its medical severity. But Jace already seemed hazy, like the world was blurring around him, and I wasn't about to let slip that I didn't have even the weakest grasp of the situation.

"No, no, it's fine," I said, though it hardly sounded convincing. "We just need to... to..."

I racked my brain, searching desperately for the answer. It had to be there. After all these years, after everything that had accumulated and been neatly stored there, it couldn't fail me now. What did I know about first aid? We'd done a course back at the academy, years ago now: an afternoon of tying bandages around our own arms and practicing the Heimlich manoeuvre and resuscitating lifeless dummies. I should've been able to recall every detail, to replay the instructor's walkthrough like I'd pressed rewind on a recording.

And yet, as I tried to go back there, put every shred of mental effort into going back, I couldn't quite get there. Each time I got close, a wall went up, and I was left stranded on the wrong side.

For the first time, my perfect memory was flagging.

And the only logical conclusion I could come to was the obvious one.

"We need to stop the bleeding."

Said aloud, it was at least sensible enough for me to start believing in myself. Jace was hardly in a state to be offering comprehensive medical advice, but I took the way his head bobbed in a vague nod to be a good sign and went ahead.

I looked around, but the glaringly obvious problem wasn't lost on me: there was nothing here. We were in the thick of the woods, with nothing by way of supplies except the remnants of a civilisation fifty years behind us, and there certainly wasn't a fully stocked first aid kit to be found hidden in a tree trunk. Ideally, I needed bandages, but nothing short of a miracle would let me get my hands on those.

I needed another option.

Then, suddenly, an idea hit me. Grabbing the hem of my long-sleeved shirt, I yanked it over my head, leaving me shivering in just the vest I was wearing underneath. I saw a flash of confusion cross Jace's face, but didn't give him time to dwell on it; within seconds, I started tugging on the fabric until it tore apart at the seams.

His trousers had already been ripped by the bullet, and it didn't take much force to create a hole big enough to get a better look at the wound. A fresh wave of nausea washed over me, but with a deep breath I was able to hold it back once again; I needed to stay calm if I was to have any hope of dealing with this properly.

A whimper of pain escaped him as I lifted his leg. Instantly, I felt guilty, murmuring a soft "Sorry" as I fed the fabric of my torn shirt under his thigh. I pulled it as tight as I could, wrapping the wound in as much as I could spare before attempting to tie a knot with trembling hands.

"Astrid..."

His voice, little more than a mumble, stopped me in my tracks.

I couldn't let on how terrified I was, how easily this illusion of control could slip. That would only panic him, and right now, I needed him in a position where he'd do absolutely anything to pull through. So, trying to keep my voice level, I answered. "Hmm?"

"I have to tell you something..."

My breath caught as I focused on his dark brown eyes, clouded by pain and fear. "What?"

"I have to tell you..." He only managed these few words before having to take another wheezing breath. "What you mean to me... in case I don't make it..."

My heart lurched. "No," I said firmly, without letting him finish. "You're not talking like that. You are going to make it."

I knew this, and I was sure of it – perhaps only because I refused to let my brain believe anything else. If I let the slightest doubt creep in, allowed even the tiniest part of me to consider the possibility that this would be the last conversation we ever had... then anything that happened could be my fault. And I would have to live with it forever.

The knot was tied as tightly as I could manage; I could only hope this would be enough to stop the bleeding. Already, the white fabric had turned almost completely red – but that had to be better than him bleeding out onto the floor.

My first logical action seemed to have worked.

Now I had to stake Jace's life on a second.

"Okay," I said, still trying to conceal the panic in my voice, "do you think maybe you can stand?"

He nodded, but it was far from confident, and I was plagued by doubt even before we'd managed to get his arm slung around my shoulders. As he gripped onto me with all his strength, I attempted to help haul him upwards – but it soon became clear this was a terrible idea. He'd been upright for no longer than a second before letting out a gut-wrenching cry of pain, his weight slumping against me so suddenly I almost toppled over. He was both heavier and taller than me; I was never going to be able to take him alone.

"I can't..." he said, once I'd managed to lower him back on the ground slowly enough for him not to hurt himself. "I can't do it... it's too much..."

"I'm going to have to get someone," I said. "I'm going to have to go back, get someone to bring a stretcher..."

The realisation twisted a knife into my gut, but I knew I had no choice. The last thing I wanted to do was leave Jace here like this, let him out of my sight, risk the possibility of him bleeding out and coming back to find him...

No. I shook my head violently, as if to rid the thoughts from my mind. I couldn't think like that. When the only alternative was to stay here and do nothing but let the injury take hold... the choice was clear.

I had to give him a chance.

Even if it meant leaving him behind.

I went to stand, knowing it wasn't sensible to delay the inevitable. The faster I could leave and come back with help, the better – regardless, I would have to drag myself away. And yet as I gathered to my feet, struggling to hold back the desperate tears that were brimming, I felt Jace grab my hand.

A soft tug was all he could manage, but it was enough to pull me back.

"What are you doing?" I asked, our faces now closer than ever. His skin was smeared with dirt and blood, his glasses lost somewhere in the overgrowth, and yet he still managed to take my breath away.

"Before you go..." he mumbled. "I want you to kiss me."

"What?"

"Just in case..." he said hazily. The look on his face told me he was struggling to keep a hold on reality, like the world was water slipping through his fingers. I had to get him to hold on. "So I can go out on a high..."

Just like that, there went my heart. Except this time, it was less of a sickening lurch, and more a strange flutter that transported me back to the moment at the lake. In a situation like this, I shouldn't have been anywhere close – but something in me caused me to squeeze Jace's hand a little tighter.

I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his forehead.

They lingered there for no more than a couple of seconds. Then, I drew back – and when I caught sight of the expression on his face, I couldn't help but smile.

Despite everything, he looked thoroughly disappointed.

I reached out and stroked the front of his hair. "You have to pull through to get the real thing."

No part of me wanted to go. There wasn't a shade of my emotional response that didn't want me to stay right there, my thumb stroking his as our fingers lay intertwined, knelt over him so our faces were separated by mere inches. But, with a sense of awareness that permeated my entire body, I knew what I had to do.

So, as painful as it was, I forced myself to let go of his hand and get to my feet.

And this time, he didn't protest.

At first, my steps were slow, punctuated by glances over my shoulder to keep Jace in my sight. But as the distance between us increased, and he became less and less visible between the dense collection of trees, I couldn't afford to keep it up any longer. I had to move faster, and that meant I couldn't look back.

Once I accepted this, it was easier to move forward. My feet picked up the pace as I tore back the way I came, regaining some of the energy that had brought me out here in the first place. I climbed over the same fences, leapt over exposed roots that had threatened to trip me up the first time, sidestepping every obstacle until the only thing standing between me and the city was my own speed.

Reality barely registered. I didn't spare a thought for the reason behind Jace's injury in the first place: the fact that someone had been loitering here with a gun, and there was no reason they wouldn't still be close by. All I cared about was moving forward, so that at some point I could go back for Jace.

I wasn't sure how long I was running. I lost track of time in the woods, and with so much adrenaline spurring me on, my muscles felt immune from any kind of fatigue. In that moment, I felt like I could've run halfway around the world if I knew it'd give me a chance of saving him.

Eventually, though, I spotted something I recognised: the exposed brick of a building on the edge of the city, splashed with colourful remnants of graffiti that had managed to weather the elements. The words had become less clear over time, but they were still readable: DOWN WITH THE CAPITAL was scrawled in huge block letters. Even now, they seemed to radiate anger.

But the building meant I was close – it meant I'd made it out of the densest part of the wood, where all sense of direction was obscured by trees, and that help was near. With the renewed hope came another source of energy, and I sprinted towards the building. Before long, my steps landed on concrete rather than dirt, and I tore through the street while yelling at the top of my voice.

"Nova! Art! Anyone! I need you now!"

At first, there came no response, but to expect otherwise would've been a long shot. Deterioration may have shrunk the habitable part of the city from its original size, but there was still a lot of ground to cover, and they could've been anywhere. In any building, behind any door – the only hope I had of attracting attention was to shout at the top of my lungs.

Because if I didn't, the consequences didn't bear thinking about.

I kept powering through, ignoring the slow burn that had started to spread through my muscles. That they might be able to escape fatigue had been wishful thinking; they were now approaching the end of their physical limit. I'd never been built for athleticism, but right then, I would've traded all I had – the blue eyes, long blonde hair, unrivalled memory – for it. What use was it all now if it meant I couldn't save what mattered most?

"Help! Anyone?"

With every yell that was met by no response, a stab pierced my heart. Every moment was a wasted opportunity, a slowly dwindling chance that this would all turn out okay.

Then – after what felt like hours of running, calling the names of people who could've been nowhere in the vicinity – I heard a noise behind me. My footsteps came to a screeching halt, and I spun on the spot to see where it had come from.

The sight that met my eyes flooded my entire body with relief.

There was Thomas, stood in the middle of the road, peering at me from afar. "Astrid?"

"Thomas!" I cried. All at once, the impact of the physical exertion hit me, and I found I could barely catch my breath enough to get the words out. Whatever I did manage to say came in short, breathless bursts. "Jace – injured – in the – woods. Need – help – now..."

"What?" Now we were close enough, he gripped my arm to steady me. "Breathe. Say that again."

"Jace," I forced out. "He's been shot. In the woods. I've left him there, but we need to get him help quickly..."

The look on Thomas' face transformed instantly. Shock mixed with a distinct sense of terror, which hardly settled my own mind. "He's been shot?" he echoed in disbelief, to which I could only nod. It was obvious he wanted to know more, but I could tell he realised there was no time; the urgency of the situation took precedence over everything else. "We need Nova. I know where she is."

He turned on the spot instantly and started to head down the street. We took a shortcut down one of the alleys, and as we emerged on the next road, I realised his intended destination: the university lab. I followed him through the entrance doors and down the corridor, but where I expected him to take a left into the room where I'd been subject to genetic testing, he continued to a door at the end of the hall.

He spared time for a single knock, but didn't wait for permission to barge into the room.

I wasn't sure what the place was, but it looked like some kind of security setup; there were several screens on the walls behind us and a large table in the middle of the room covered in important-looking documents. Nova had been stood at the table, staring down at some papers below, but she looked up the moment she heard the door.

"Astrid? Thomas?" she said, surprised. "What are you doing?"

"It's Jace," I told her, finally having caught my breath enough to speak. "I found him. In the woods. He's been shot."

A flash of something crossed her eyes; I could've sworn I saw something quiver amongst the emerald green. There was, however, no time to dwell on it – within seconds, she had sprung into action, taking charge like she was used to.

"We need a medi kit," she declared. "Thomas, there should be a fully stocked one in the lab – can you grab it?"

He nodded, already moving to head out of the room. "I'm on it."

"Astrid, there should be a stretcher in the storage unit out the back. If you fetch that, I'll radio Art to come find us and I'll meet you both out the front of the building. Then you can lead the way – got it?"

Her clear direction was exactly what I needed. Just like that, the sense of frantic hopelessness lifted, replaced by a logical understanding of our next steps as they stretched out before me. Despite our differences, and despite the fact that Nova's detachment often made me want to scream, I had to hand it to her: as a leader, she was best placed in a situation like this. I could only dream of being able to think so calmly and so rationally when emotions were running at an all-time high.

"Got it," I told her, with a single nod. "See you outside."

Following Thomas' footsteps, I moved out of the room and dashed down the corridor. The storage unit was tucked away at the back of the building; I'd been there once to drop off a supply of spare clothing, though at the time I hadn't paid much attention to what else was stored there. I ducked inside, pausing in the doorway as I scanned the objects piled up in the dusty space, my eyes peeled for anything that resembled what I needed. Then, I saw it, propped up against the wall behind a barrel brimming with discarded shoes: a faded yellow stretcher.

It was heavier than I expected, but I managed to tuck it under one arm and make a quick exit. At the front of the building, Thomas was already waiting with a first aid kit in hand, and it wasn't long before Nova appeared to join us.

"Art's on his way," she said. "He'll catch up. For now, we need to move."

And with that, we were off. Three sets of footsteps pounding on concrete, mine taking the lead with the others hot on my heels. After the time to catch my breath, I was back to running as fast as I could. I couldn't even bring myself to glance over my shoulder to check that Nova and Thomas were still there; with pure adrenaline once again coursing through my veins, driving me forward and closer to Jace, looking back wasn't an option.

How much time had we taken already? How many minutes had passed since our hands had broken apart, and I'd let him out of my sight? All of them held the potential for the worst to have happened – and with every fibre of my being, I prayed our time hadn't yet run out.

For someone who had spent eighteen years totally convinced that no type of God existed, at that moment, I was willing to put my faith in anything.

"This way!" I called, gesturing to the two figures behind me. In the woods, I now recognised where we were. If we just hopped over the metal fence that had once marked the boundary of somebody's garden, followed the path laid out by the surviving metal of the old railway track, pushed aside the branches that stooped down to eye level...

"It's here."

My feet came to an abrupt halt, and by the sound of crunching ground behind me, I knew Thomas and Nova had followed suit.

My breath caught in my throat as I reached out to push aside the branch that concealed Jace's location. And as he came into view, in the same spot on the ground as where I'd left him, my heart plummeted.

The shirt I'd tied round his leg was saturated with blood, and his eyes were closed.

For a heartbeat, I feared the worst.

But then, as if he sensed movement and the presence of three figures stood over him, his eyes fluttered. And then opened. And then locked onto me.

"Astrid..." he murmured.

Dropping the stretcher onto the ground, I sunk to my knees behind him and took his hand. I didn't care that Nova and Thomas were right there, didn't stop to consider what either of them might think; the pure elation and relief that flooded through my body consumed everything, leaving it impossible to think about anything else.

A hazy smile crept onto Jace's face, and I soon realised my own expression was mirroring it.

"Hey," I whispered.

"Hey," he said back.

"I told you I'd come back for you."

"And I told you I'd hold on," he said. "Which means you owe me something."

As my smile intensified, I gently squeezed his hand. It was hardly the appropriate situation to feel such a rush of intense happiness – Jace was still lying there on ground stained with blood, after all – but I couldn't hold it back. As my mind raced through all the things that could've happened, and that we'd been spared from, I was filled with an intense appreciation of how lucky we really were.

There would still be much more to consider, once his condition stabilised and we could get him back to base. We were still lacking an explanation for the gunshot in the first place, and the question remained about whether we were all in danger. But that would come later. For now, we could only be grateful for what we'd managed to hold onto.

I wasn't about to kiss Jace right there, with both Nova and Thomas looking on.

But I was sure we'd make up for it at some point.

--------------------

Hi, everyone! I'm finally back with a new chapter, and I hope you've recovered after the exciting news of this weekend (if you don't know what I'm talking about -- go back a chapter to see the HUGE EXCITING ANNOUNCEMENT).

I've been absolutely overwhelmed by all the lovely comments I've had since making the announcement, and it's reminded me exactly why I've spent so long writing on Wattpad and why I never want to give this up. It's the sweetest, most loyal community who offer the most unwavering support, and it's all because of you guys that I get to experience these amazing opportunities (LIKE TV SHOWS!!!!!!!!!!!!!).

I'm not able to share further details with you right now, but I promise, as soon as I'm allowed to share them, you will be the first to know. For now, I hope you're as excited as I am!!

PS: I've got one week left of Camp NaNoWriMo and I've written 30,000 more words for this story. They might be awful, and they might need editing, but regular updates are on their way BACK. After April is over.

Until next time!

Leigh