The car skids down the mud road past trees, jostling us inside as we go deeper into the woods. We are in Irene's Ford edge which is spacious enough to lay Ava's unconscious form in the back between me and Stacy, with the seats folded to make space. Ava is covered in blood- so much blood- from the bite on her shoulder and the many cuts on her arms, face and torso where glass had pierced her skin. My heart threatens to stop at the sight.
But she looks calm and beautiful, even in such dire circumstances. I can't bear to look at her. It hurts to see her in this state; cursed for life if not dead. I stare into my palms instead but they are covered in blood– Ava's blood. My tux is stained with it as well from when I carried her into the car. She's lost so much blood, will she even –
'Don't' I tell myself sternly 'she is going to be alright'. How could this have happened? If only I hadn't let them get to her. All I had to do was keep them away from the door to buy Ava enough time to escape; but I failed. What use am I to anyone if I can't even keep the people I care about from danger?
"It's not your fault Seth" says Stacy, sitting across from me on Ava's other side, as though she read my mind. Though her voice is stern and steady I can see she is trying to keep her lip from trembling and her eyes are glossy. I don't agree and I can't bring myself to answer her with words so I simply nod and turn away to look out the window.
The blur of trees rushing past in the dark seems to slow down. "Are we there?" I ask Irene who is in the driver's seat. "Yes" she says as the car comes to a stop.
I get out first then take Ava carefully into my arms. Her arms and head fall down limply. There is a pang in my heart but I ignore it.
We are at a clearing in the woods where a lone cottage sits surrounded by a lush garden. Irene and Stacy are already knocking the door as I walk up the driveway with Ava in my arms. A woman with early signs of wrinkles opens the door with an annoyed but surprised look on her face - Garcia. Stacy starts frantically explaining about the attack on prom and Garcia's eyebrows knit together.
Garcia is a retired nurse who our pack goes to for help. She is also one of the oldest lykans around.
Her lip closes into a thin line as I reach the door. "Get her in!" she urges "You know where to put her". I nod moving to the far end of the cottage and enter the small room with a single bed where Garcia usually treats her patients.
I lower Ava gently onto the bed and Garcia is already checking her pulse. Both Stacy and Irene had followed Garcia into the room.
"Is she going to die?" only Irene could be so blunt but she looks concerned. I look at Garcia nonetheless dreading her answer. "There is only a very small chance that she will make it," says Garcia. "But there's still hope right?" asks Stacy, her voice is small and isn't steady anymore. Garcia just sighs and shakes her head.
I walk out of the room, can't help but feeling angry at Garcia. How could Garcia just give up on Ava's life without trying anything? How could Garcia, who has treated members of the pack with worse circumstances than Ava's, say Ava is going to die?
I sit myself down in one of the cushioned chairs in the living room and just stare at my shoes, unable to accept or even think about it.
Many minutes or maybe hours pass before I hear a familiar car pull up outside. Ryan had taken my car to take the injured girl in the pink dress to the hospital. I think I have her in my biology class; her name was Emma or Emily something. We thought she was bitten and hence the blood on her dress but she had actually just tripped, split her head on one of the stone fountains, when trying to run from the Varcolacks.
Ryan enters the cottage, hands me my car keys without a word and leaves to find Irene.
Stacy enters the living room and I immediately dread the news she might bring me "Is she-"
"She's alright" she replies curtly, cutting me off. I sigh in relief but Stacy doesn't look relieved or happy
I didn't realize I had gotten up from my seat, until I took a step toward to her. "But Garcia said there was only a small chance" I say. "That's the thing" says Stacy "A small chance only if she were human"
"What do you mean?"
"She was cut all over with glass right?" The tone in Stacy's voice tells me she is irritated with me for not already understanding what she means but I ignore it "As soon as Garcia removed the pieces of glass from the wounds she started to heal- immediately"
I know what she's trying to convey but I remain silent and her frustration seems to grow that she's almost shouting "there's not even a scar Seth, only werewolves heal like that !"
"No" I say, trying hard to keep the tremor out of it. I am in plain denial.
"Seth, she was bitten!" her voice raises and to counter hers so does mine "But it's too soon for her to change!" She couldn't change. I didn't want her to change.
"It's been about an hour since she was bitten-"
but I cut off "No"
Stacy sighs, running her hands through her hair, before she looks at me, tears rolling down her cheeks and says with finality "Ava's a Varcolack now and there's nothing we can do about it".