Blood trails

—Sorry for making you do this —I said to Zoe, who was by my side. We were in the small treehouse, a refuge we used to visit on happier days.

Zoe looked at me with concern, her eyes widening at the sight of my wounds. —Razer, who did this to you? And why are you dressed like that? —she asked, puzzled by my worn appearance.

—Well, I suppose it was necessary... —I murmured, my voice barely audible.

—Necessary? Did you fight with someone? —her disbelief was evident, but I couldn't give her all the details.

—Yeah, Zoe, let's just say I fought with a lot of them... —I began to explain, but a dark fog started to cloud my vision, and I felt dizzy.

—Razer! —Zoe exclaimed, alarmed as she saw me staggering. Maybe she thought my injury wasn't as deep as it really was.

—Celia, go find Dad and tell him to get the car ready —she shouted to her little sister, who stood frozen for a moment before quickly running inside.

Meanwhile, Zoe helped me down the stairs of the treehouse, which, although not very tall, felt like I was descending from a great mountain at that moment.

—Hang in there, Razer —Zoe said, her voice trembling with worry.

—It's not that bad —I tried to reassure her, even though I knew my words convinced neither her nor myself.

—How can it not be that bad? Look at your clothes! —she replied, pointing to the bloodstains covering my shirt. The blood, which had once been just a symbol of adventure, had now become a reminder of the brutality I had faced.

In an instant, Zoe's dad, Max, arrived, and upon seeing me, quickly understood the gravity of the situation. Without saying a word, he took me in his car to the hospital, his face a mix of concern and determination.

—How did you get that injury? —he asked as he drove, his voice tense.

—It was in a... battle. It's not just a cut. I have a bullet in my back —I replied, feeling his eyes widen in surprise.

He accelerated, and the sound of the engine echoed in my ears, as if my life were at stake. At the hospital, the atmosphere was frantic. The doctors prepared for emergency surgery to remove the bullet before it could cause more damage.

When I entered the operating room, they injected me with anesthesia. I felt the world fading away, and in my mind, the images of the fight, the betrayal, and the struggle intertwined with the darkness surrounding me. In that moment, everything I had lived faded, leaving me awaiting what would come next.

...

After what felt like a long dream, I finally woke up after the surgery. The anesthesia slowly wore off, and when I opened my eyes, the light of the hospital dazzled me. Beside me, Zoe was sitting, cutting an apple with a knife. Upon noticing I had awakened, she lifted her gaze but said nothing, as if she were trapped in her thoughts.

—Here, eat —she said, offering me a piece of apple. I took it without thinking; the feeling of hunger was intense and I couldn't ignore it.

As I bit into the fruit, its freshness reminded me that I was still alive. However, the situation weighed heavily on my mind.

—So, tell me who caused your injury —she urged, and though her voice was soft, there was an undercurrent of worry. I noticed a change in her expression, as if she feared my answer.

—It was at my house. Arthur and a group of guys came looking for trouble. They wanted to hunt me down, you know... —I replied, feeling that each word revived the chaos of that night.

—that Arthur never leaves you alone. What happened to him? —her tone sharpened, anger beginning to show.

—Let's just say he's no longer with us —I said, taking another bite of the apple. The sweet flavor contrasted with the bitterness of the situation.

Zoe looked at me, her eyes wide open. —Do you mean to say that you took him out? —her voice trembled, a mix of surprise and concern.

—Yeah, because if I hadn't done it, he would have finished me off —I replied, trying to sound calm, though panic was beginning to rise inside me.

A tense silence settled between us. I noticed Zoe rubbing her nose, a gesture revealing her growing anxiety. Finally, she let out a deep sigh, as if weighing her words.

—Razer, you have no idea the trouble you just got yourself into —she said, trying to sound calm.

—What trouble? —I asked, feeling a pang of unease in my chest.

—Arthur, a few days before all this started, joined a big gang. They have a clear objective: to cause chaos and destruction —her voice was serious, each word resonating like a drum in my mind.

A chill ran down my spine. —Are you saying that by killing Arthur, who is now part of that gang, it means I'll have the whole gang behind me?

—Yes, that's exactly it —she confirmed, her gaze fixed on me, as if she could see the dark future that awaited me.

—Do you have any idea how many there are? —I asked, though I knew the answer could be devastating.

—Around 75, approximately. That's what the news said —she said, nervously touching her chin.

Reality hit me like a punch in the stomach. —Great. Now I have to face a gang of over 75 people who will surely try to avenge one of their members. And not just any member, but the son of a magnate. And here I am, injured and vulnerable. What a fun situation, right?

Damn, I'm screwed.