Unchosen 19

I lunged forward and caught Tex's shoulder, keeping him from falling forward onto his face. Just as he'd crumbled, I'd seen the shaft of some sort of dart or arrow protruding from his throat, and if it hadn't killed him already, I didn't want it getting jammed in any deeper to finish the job.

I quickly dragged him into some rubble and struggling foliage as Chasity and Doc winged off some shots to our front and found their own cover. Taking advantage of their cover fire, I examined Tex with a practiced eye. The dart protruded about 3 inches out of his throat, and blood was flowing copiously. At a guess, I'd have said that it was buried another inch or two inside, and from the gurgling sound as he gasped for breath, it'd sliced into his trachea pretty well. There wasn't much chance for him, especially in the middle of an ambush.

"Doc!" I bawled, laying Tex down as gently as I could behind a good sized rock. I turned with a hand already dipping down to draw my revolver when I saw the kid was already scurrying toward my hiding spot, while Chasity placed a few more measured shots into likely hiding places. Still, nothing showed, and no more projectiles came our way. Doc crouched down beside me, his face pale but resolute.

"He doesn't look good," he said grimly, swinging his pack off of his shoulder to get at the supplies inside.

"He's not going to make it, is he?" I asked as calmly as I could, not bothering to look back over my shoulder as I scanned our surroundings.

"The fuck he isn't!" Doc snarled. I just shook my head and drew my other revolver.