Jericho's eyes snapped open to the sound of voices and the blur of flashing lights. The weight of exhaustion clung to him, but panic surged as his gaze landed on Airam lying motionless nearby, surrounded by police officers.

"Sir, are you okay?" one of the officers asked, crouching beside him.

Jericho pushed himself up, his voice sharp with urgency. "What's wrong with her?" He gestured toward Airam, his heart pounding. "And where's my sister?"

The officer raised his hands slightly, his tone calm but firm. "Take it easy. She's being checked out, and she's stable." He paused, meeting Jericho's frantic gaze. "We've found your sister and the rest of your friends. They're safe are you okay to walk?" the officer asked, his voice steady but concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Jericho muttered, his voice tight with discomfort as he pushed himself upright, wincing when a sharp pain shot through his leg. "I need to get back to my sister."

The officer glanced at Jericho's blood-soaked pant leg and then at Airam. "Is she going to the hospital?" Jericho asked, his worry evident as he gestured toward her still form.

"Most likely," the officer replied carefully. "Just to make sure she's okay."

Jericho clenched his jaw, glancing down at his leg as the officer continued, "You and your friends will also need medical attention. That injury on your leg doesn't look minor."

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

As Jericho hobbled out of the forest, his eyes darted past the paramedics tending to his friends. He caught a glimpse of Airam being loaded into an ambulance but didn't stop looking until he found her. Irene. She was sitting in the back of an ambulance, a paramedic pressing gauze to her forehead. Relief and guilt hit him all at once.

"Come on, kid, let's get you to a medic," the officer said, steadying him as he limped.

"Wait—can I just talk to my sister first?" Jericho pleaded, his voice raw with desperation.

The officer hesitated, then nodded. "Fine. But make it quick. You need to get that leg looked at."

Jericho staggered toward Irene, the officer keeping him upright. When Irene spotted him, her face shifted from shock to teary relief.

"Jericho!" she cried, practically launching off the ambulance step.

"Easy, Ri," Jericho said, catching her before she could topple over.

"I couldn't find you—I looked everywhere," she stammered, her words tumbling out between shaky breaths.

"I know, I know," he murmured, stroking her hair in an uncharacteristically soft gesture. His eyes landed on the bandage on her forehead, and he winced, a sharp reminder of his own pain.

Irene pulled back, her expression shifting to fear as she noticed him favoring one leg. "What happened? You're hurt—do you need me to get someone?"

Jericho shook his head, trying to sound convincing. "I'm fine. Just a scratch."

"Don't give me that," Irene shot back, her voice trembling but sharp. "You're bleeding, Jericho." She turned toward the paramedics, her tone rising. "Can someone help him, please?"

Jericho sighed, his usual bravado cracking. "Irene, I'm okay," he muttered, but the weariness in his voice betrayed him.

"Shut up," she snapped, tears brimming in her eyes. "You're not okay, and I'm not letting you bleed out because you're trying to be a hero."

The officer returned, his voice firm but understanding. "It's time for you to get that leg checked out."

Jericho glanced back at him, gritting his teeth against the pain. "Yeah, okay." He turned to Irene, his voice softening. "I'll see you at the hospital, alright?."