Needs Must

I felt the first bullet that had ever been fired at me cut through air above my shoulder. It wasn’t the last.

The second one didn’t miss. The side of my calf exploded in fire, and I went down.

“WHAT THE FUCK JEREMY?!? YOU FUCKING SHOT ME!!”

Blood pooled beneath me. I tried to rotate my leg to get a look at the damage. My vision blurred as pain seared through the tender, torn up meat flapping out of my scrubs.

I began to wonder if I was going to die.

“I’m sorry, Clayton. But I have to have it. She’s going to fuckin' die without it. And I can’t risk you following me.”

He crossed the room and picked up the igloo cooler, keeping his pistol trained on me. He could’ve been going to picnic.

Or an operating table.

“Are you gonna put it in yourself? How the fuck do you think you can pull that off?”

I was beginning to feel very tired.

“I’m prepared. I have people. I’ve been waiting for this for months. She was never gonna get one. Well, she will today.”

He pocketed his gun in his jacket and walked out with my heart.