Emery stood immobile for a while, his mind racing to catch up with everything that had just happened. The pain of his wound was becoming more acute, filling the spaces left vacant by ebbing adrenaline. His discomfort swelled every time he inhaled. Emery retied his bandages, careful this time to make sure they would stay secure. The fabric rubbed coarsely against the edges of the wound with every small movement, and for a long time, Emery dared not move for fear of further upsetting the wound. He lay back down and tried to gather his waning strength. Images of the previous hours played back in his tired mind, swollen and disjointed like a fever dream. He felt a fleeting remorse for his joy at watching the tunnel dwellers burn: should he pity them? Were they even still human?
Finally he rallied himself, stood, and strode off in the direction Green had indicated. Every step took effort now; with each motion, his nerves protested. After far too long, he found the clearing: the sun had set, and its last soft light slowly leaked from the horizon. So Emery didn't see the others until he was greeted by a hand at his collar. “Emery?”
Timothy held a sharpened stick in the other hand, ready to strike if it was not Emery but some intruder who had happened upon them. The boy's newfound courage was striking; he had become quite the man, it seemed, since meeting Miren. “Yeah,” said Emery faintly. “I'm back.”
And then Lydia pushed Timothy aside and seized Emery herself. She began to say something but settled for a wordless, elated sigh, and before Emery knew what was happening, Lydia was kissing him and prudence be damned, he was kissing her back.
“Careful,” he gasped as she pulled him closer, pressing painfully against his side. “I'm broken.” Emery undid his coat and lifted his shirt to reveal the wound.
“Oh my god,” Lydia whispered. “What happened?”
“I found out what was in the package from Hanssen,” Emery said. “A Vorteil revolver.” He tried for a smile. “Three Dogs was so happy to receive it, he just had to show me how it worked.”
Lydia was stunned to silence; she stepped back, covering her mouth with one hand. “Will you be alright?” Miren asked, looking alarmed.
“I'll be fine,” Emery said, but his words failed to convince even himself. He was sure now that it wasn't just the sky that was darkening; his field of vision narrowed, and though his companions were already drawing nearer to support him, they appeared farther away. Emery had not heeded his body's requests for repose; now, it was not asking but demanding. Emery staggered, and Lydia hurried to catch him as he plunged into a deeper night.