13
Annie
Holy f*****g hell, Roan burned up.
“Talk to me, Roan.” I patted his face, turned him toward me, but his eyes rolled back into his head. “Roan!”
A soft smile lay inside his beard, but he lay lax like a dead man. Smears of blood covered his torso rather than his shirt. I glanced back behind him but couldn’t see too far in the distance in the dimness of night. He’d left his belongings behind. Somewhere.
I held his face in my hands again. “Roan. Wake up. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Nothing but a shiver and the rapid pulse in his throat let me know he lived.
“f*****g hell.” I grasped under his armpits and tugged. “You weigh a f*****g ton!” I growled at him, tugging again. We made it halfway to the stoop before I had to stop for a breather.
A few more pats on his face didn’t rouse hi
