Bo is stronger, but Rob is a piece of shit murderer like me. He’s not looking to subdue his opponent, like Bo is. He’s looking for the kill. I know this. Even though Bo is on top, Rob knows how to kill from the bottom. Like me.
Bo won’t kill Rob. That’s why I love him. Before Ray can make it over here to help overpower Rob, I make a choice. I snatch the tiny bow and the remaining arrow from Raven’s uncertain grip. At the same moment, Rob notices the knife sticking out of the back of his hand.
He yanks the knife out, as I draw back the arrow in Moth’s training bow.
‘Rob,’ I call gently as I stand over them.
When he looks at me, I shoot him in the eye.
It’s like hitting a switch. Everything stops. I made a clean kill, which is more than he deserved. Rob is dead.
My arms fall. I drop to my knees. Bo pushes himself up off Rob’s corpse and reaches for my head to cushion it as I fall to the ground.
Bo’s face is over mine. His big, tender eyes. I try to reach up to touch his mouth, but holy shit my shoulder is killing me and I can’t move. I’m so cold.
‘Is anyone hurt?’ I ask him.
‘Yes,’ he whispers, breathing a laugh. ‘You are.’
I think I smile. ‘I’m sorry I was late.’
‘I waited for you.’ He grins. ‘Good thing you’re worth it.’
‘She’s in shock, and she’s losing blood fast!’ That’s Ray speaking. ‘Karl, get blankets. Raven, go to the storeroom and get the emergency kit. Aspen, boil water. Rainbow, let go of her so I can treat her.’
I’m so cold.
‘No,’ I protest. ‘Don’t let go . . .’
6 AUGUST. BEFORE NOON
I know I’m safe because I can smell Bo.
Every inch of me hurts. I open my eyes but stay where I am, absorbing Bo’s room. I have no idea how they got me up into one of those tree-house dormitories, but I’m glad they made the effort. It’s beautiful to me. Probably because it’s his.
The small room is circular with a peaked ceiling. There’s a trapdoor skylight that’s open to let in a breeze. The wooden walls are covered with posters of the periodic table of the elements, star charts, and a fold-out anatomy print of the human body. The floor is covered in a handmade hook rug.
The sheets on his bed are mismatched, clean, and worn to softness. The bottom sheet has big yellow flowers on it, and the top one has sailboats. I notice I’m clean, my hair has been washed, and I’m wearing a long cotton nightgown. I can still feel a hot rock at my feet, but the piles of blankets that they had to put on top of me when I was in shock are gone now. Bo keeps me warm enough.
It’s small and cosy, and I love it here, mostly because I can feel the length of Bo’s body pressed up against my side. I hear him turn the page of a book, and I have to move my head to see what it is. Something mathematical. He reads maths books. That’s adorable.
‘How long have you been awake?’ he asks, putting his equations aside.
‘I just woke,’ I say. My voice is really scratchy.
I remember IV bags and catheters while Ray fought to flush out my system and keep me from bleeding to death. My body is ultra-hydrated right now, but none of that fluid went down my throat. My mouth is gritty.
Bo picks up a mason jar of water and helps me sit up to drink. It’s so good. I finish the whole thing. Bo watches me drink, smiling, as if my moving and drinking on my own is a pleasure to him.
I give him back the mason jar. ‘Will you help me with something?’ I ask him.
‘Anything,’ he replies immediately.
‘I have to go back into town.’
Bo frowns suddenly. ‘Can it wait? There’s no way out of this camp except on foot.’
‘I know,’ I say quietly. ‘And no. It can’t wait.’