Blood spreads down her body. “Want to find out?” Killian asks.
He pulls out a small first-aid kit from the back of the plane.
Vash grabs a blanket and lays it on the ground. “On your back,” he says.
Ruby laughs. “Are you coming on to me, alpha?”
With his hand underneath her shoulder blade, Vash lowers her to the blanket. “At least you still have a sense of humor,” he whispers.
More thunder cracks over their heads. So much rain falls on Vash’s head, making it harder for him to see or concentrate. The bitter cold has set in, and he knows he has to act fast, but he’s not a skilled surgeon. He couldn’t read a medical handbook to save his life. He has to shape up and work a few tools if he will save Ruby.
Blood is soaking through the fabric. Ruby is pale and shivering.
Killian puts his mouth near Vash’s ear. “Any idea what to do?”
“Apply pressure. We need to get it out first,” he says.
Ruby finds her hidden strength and bucks forward. Her military boots hit Vash’s solar plexus, forcing him back. She gives them no choice but to hold her down.
Though she fights it, she has to give in to the weight of their hold. “No, no, no.”
Vash knows she will not calm, so he doesn’t wait for her to loosen. Placing his palm around the thin beam, he grips the solid metal in between each ridge of finger. He doesn’t ask if she’s ready.
He pulls.
Like it’s a tooth that’s ready to come out, he threads the metal bar out of her chest. Once out, a pool of blood collects.
“Pressure,” Vash says.
Killian jumps in, pressing a towel against the wound to stop the bleeding. He snaps his fingers as she closes her eyes. “Stay with me,” he says.
“I want to be cremated,” she says.
“Nobody’s dying,” Killian grunts and tries not to center his attention on how much blood is leaking.
Vash runs with the rest of the kit. Sewing needles, thread disinfectant, and a bunch of bandages is what they got. “Almost done, Ruby. We will sew you up,” Vash says.
But as Vash tilts his head to the side, he sees something that causes him to freeze. “No fucking way,” he mutters.
A pack of alphas appear over a snow-covered hill, holding weapons and torches of fire. They stroll, as if they know they’ve already got the win on them.
Vash looks at Killian.
Killian looks at Vash.
“Perfect fucking timing,” Killian mutters and rolls to grab his rifle.
Vash grabs the children and buckles them back into the plane. “Don’t move, okay?”
When his children look at him, it breaks his heart. They’re more aware than he thought they would be. And the more he shares this carnage with them, the worse they could turn out.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “This isn’t the world you deserve.”
And then everything speeds up. It feels more real. There is the understanding that it doesn’t matter how far they get; they could lose this thing.
Without Ruby, they won’t be able to find the Iron Eye. At least, not in time.
The leader of the alpha pack stops about fifty yards from them, the crisp wind blowing his tattered cape around his chest. “I’ll recommend you relinquish your weapons, scum,” he growls.