Book 11: Not Quite Enough

Cole

I choke myself awake. Smoke fills my lungs, smothering my senses for precious seconds I quickly realize I don’t have. Muffled voices fill my ears–a few shouts of pain, of surprise. People are calling out for friends and comrades.

I’m not in the afterlife. I know that immediately. Pain echoes through my body like waves, driven by the tide of my heartbeat as my body claws back to life, my chest wounds knitting together in real time. 

But my hand is freezing. I squeeze the fingers tangled in mine and jolt back to reality, rolling with effort to curl my body around Misty. 

“No,” I breathe into her hair. “Come–Come back.” I can’t feel her anymore. My hand slides up to her neck, my fingers trembling as I feel for her pulse. It’s there, but barely. A weak thump that pauses for several heartbreaking seconds. “H-Help!” I try to shout the word into existence, but my voice cracks painfully, turning into a scream. “HELP!”

Figures rus