“Clare.” He pulled her close, his hands running over her arms and her face. He was ghost white, and perspiration glistened across his face. “Clare, I-I—”
“It’s okay.” The pain in her shoulder wasn’t bothering her as much, but she didn’t know if that meant it wasn’t as serious as she’d thought or if she was just going into shock. She laughed, but it came out thin and oddly pitched. “We’re over the river. About time, right?”
He had one hand braced on the side of her head as though she needed holding up. His shaking fingers hovered over her shoulder, where blood stained the knit. “Just relax. This will be all right. I will get the kit. Medicine for the pain—”
“Not yet.” Distant, screeching cries echoed through the forest. She was acutely aware of how close they were to the bridge and how little space they had between them and the monsters. “Keep driving. Get us out of the trees and try to lean left, if you can. That’s where the main road is.”
He looked conflicted. “Clare—”
“Go on.” She took his hand, squeezed it lightly, and pushed it back towards the wheel. “I’ve had enough of those monsters for today.”
Chapter Thirty
“Sweetheart. Can you hear me?”
Clare jolted awake. Chilled air stung her cheeks. She blinked, disoriented, and saw the car’s door was open. Dorran stood outside, one hand resting on Clare’s arm, his eyes tight with concern.
“Sorry. Did I fall asleep?” Clare lifted a hand to rub tiredness from her eyes, and pain blazed along her shoulder and back. She grimaced.
“Shh. Come. Lean on me.”
Dorran unbuckled the seat belt, then strong arms were around her, lifting her out of the car. Clare squinted against the pale light that cut into her eyes. She didn’t know how long she’d been out, except that the afternoon was fading. An empty road stretched in both directions, but Dorran carried her off its side, to where he’d laid their blanket beside a small, crackling campfire. “Where are we?”
“Somewhere safe.” He lowered her onto the blanket, and Clare shivered. The fire hadn’t been alive for long, but its warmth felt good, and she moved closer to it.
“Where did you get the wood?”
“There are some small trees farther up the road.” His fingers moved around her face, gently pulling hair out of the way. “Don’t worry. They are not large enough for hollows to hide among. We can rest here a moment.”
She blinked, and the scene came into better focus. The road was long and straight. Dead, thigh-high grass filled the space to either side, interspersed by tenacious trees that had found a home in the poor soil. In the distance, at the car’s back, were the rolling, hilly mountains that she associated with Marnie’s area. They must have been driving for hours.
“I am sorry,” Dorran said. He was pulling supplies out of the car. “I would have stopped earlier, but there was nowhere safe.”
“Yeah.” Clare slowly turned her neck, trying to loosen tight muscles without hurting her shoulder. “It’s all pretty thoroughly forested around that area. Did you see any other hollows?”
“Yes.” He crouched at her side, opened the first aid kit, and began picking through supplies. “A few dozen. Most stayed off the side of the road. They don’t like the car’s noises. Several tried to charge at us, but we were too fast for them to catch.”
Clare chuckled. She still felt dazed. As a child, she’d loved visiting Marnie with Beth. They always watched for wild animals on the drive to her property. Roadkill was common, but they usually saw live animals, as well. She guessed hollows had become the new animals to spot.
“Here.” He handed her a cup of water and two painkillers, then his fingers moved around the collar of her knit top.
She flinched as the fabric was peeled back from the drying blood.
Dorran muttered under his breath. He used scissors to snip through the weave so that he could pull it out of the way.
“How’s it looking?” Clare drained the cup. She hadn’t realised how thirsty she’d become.
Dorran took the mug back and refilled it, along with a pot of water he set beside the fire to heat. “I never should have left you outside the car.”
“Mm. One of us had to drive it over the bridge. And I still think you had the more dangerous job. I was just slightly less lucky this time.”
His eyes were sad, but he tried to smile as he placed a pair of surgical pliers into the pot to sterilise. “This will hurt, I am afraid. There are… fragments inside the wound.”
“Oh.” Clare’s face twisted. She remembered feeling the teeth break out of the hollow’s jaw. “Right, yeah, get those out, please.”
Once the pot boiled, Dorran used a cloth to retrieve the pliers, waited a moment for them to cool, then began work on Clare’s shoulder.
The tooth fragments made hideous sucking noises as they came free. Clare breathed through her mouth, shaking, her whole arm on fire. She refused to let herself cry. It wasn’t any worse than the bite on Dorran’s wrist, she told herself. If he could cope with it, so could she.
“That’s the last of them.” Dorran sounded relieved as he dropped the final bone fragment into the grass. He opened the bottle of antiseptic and doused the wound. This time, Clare couldn’t smother a cry. Dorran held her still as she kicked and swore, then he stroked her hair as the agony subsided.
“That was good. You did well. Very well.”
“Thanks.” The word came out muffled as Clare let her face rest into his shirt. She didn’t feel like she was doing well. She was exhausted in a way that sleep wouldn’t fix. She wasn’t looking forward to returning to the car, but as the sun ticked closer to the horizon, she knew they had no choice. She tried to imagine where they
