Stolen Lives: A LitRPG/GameLit Novel (The Underhill Chronicles Book 1) by Keith Ahrens (books for 8th graders .txt) 📗

the movies!" Well, that’s called 'cauterizing,' and in the real world, it only works on small areas and not on organs like this liver. Cauterizing would burn the organ, and then it'd break off, causing more bleeding and damage. Rambo can stick a hot knife in all the bullet holes he wants, but it doesn't mean it really works.

Blood and sweat run freely down my face. Nian's bleeding faster than I can mop it up to see where it’s coming from. “Shit, shit, shit…” I must have hit a big artery. I can't find it; otherwise, I'd be able to clamp it off with the hemostat, but there's too much blood. My hands are now slipping off the tissue, and I grab more rags, but it’s not enough. I watch the tissue around it getting paler and paler. He's gonna bleed out soon, and I can't find the damn artery…

Suddenly, I become aware of Thorn's voice, loud, clear, and calm. Her chanting is getting stronger with each word. I watch in disbelief as the blood seems to absorb back into the muscle and tissue. Everything starts to warm up, and I begin to feel heat radiating from the wound.

I stare dumbly for a moment while I watch the torn and lacerated liver knit itself back together. I snap out of it just in time to scoop a bloody rag out of the wound before the tissue reconnects and seals itself, layer by layer. Destroyed muscle regenerates before my eyes until finally, I watch the scalpel cuts reverse themselves. The hole the arrow made in the flesh closes up into a small pink scar.

I see Nian's chest rise and fall with each steady breath. I exhale, letting out the deep breath I didn't know I was holding, and look at Thorn. And past her.

Behind Thorn is Des, and behind him, all kneeling and head down, as if praying, is everyone else. Each person has placed their hand on the nape of the next person's neck and the person behind them, forming a loose fan shape. Thirax, Olivia, Miles, Grayson, Colt, and Vince. All banded together to share their energy with Thorn and Nian. Like a series of living batteries, everyone gave a little so no one had to give all.

I sit back on my heels and feel tears of relief and pride in my friends and companions. I pick up the arrowhead and hold it up for everyone to see.

A loud whoop of pure joy comes from Grayson, and everyone else joins in. Then one by one, most everyone sags down to the ground in a shared, relieved exhaustion.

Nian continues to sleep, but now it’s a more restful, natural sleep. Thorn stops the spell and lets him warm up in the dwindling sunshine. His tattoo now shows full red without a hint of black.

21

Hours go by, and the sun sinks lower toward the horizon. I begin to worry about Haynes and Jesse, but there's not much we can do but wait.

Thorn has foraged some berries and nuts, but these will only help her and maybe the Gnolls. It's food from the Fey Realm. Useless for us humans.

Overall, Thorn seems well and in good spirits, despite the incredible amount of energy she poured into healing. Everyone seems okay right now, even Jimmy. Thorn was able to spend some time and heal his arm a bit. I guess she still had a little juice left from the group. She can't grow him a new hand and forearm, but at least he's in no danger from bleeding or infection.

Miles and Grayson, with some help from Colt and Des, work on modifying a shield to stay securely on Jimmy's arm. I like that they are optimistic about this and proactive. They get pretty creative with what little they have to work with. I'd love to see what they could do with a full workshop.

Meanwhile, I find a small creek that feeds to the lake and use it to clean the spattered blood and sweat from my face. I take a small chance and remove some armor and clothing from my leg and chest to wash away the dirt and my own blood from various injuries.

Damn, this has been a rough day. I'm aching all over and bruised from head to toe. I still have the shallow cut across my abdomen, but it’s not too bad; it's clean and not bleeding. I wrap a mostly clean rag over the wound and around my waist before I get dressed again. My t-shirt has seen better days. I think the rag is more intact than my shirt is at this point. Oh, well. In a perfect world... in my world, I'll be able to get a new one soon.

Des has been making himself useful in my absence. We know a fire would give away our position, so he's worked around that. The group piled together a few large stones, and Des is kneeling next to them with his eyes closed and his right hand outstretched, barely touching the nearest rock. This rock is already glowing a dull red from the absorbed heat. It seems his grasp of magic is getting better by the day, even the hour. I guess it’s from more use, just like any exercise.

Des makes his way slowly around the pile, heating each rock until it radiates a comfortable warmth. When he's done, he sits back, breathing a little heavy, but with a satisfied smile on his face. Everyone gathers around and basks in the warmth emanating from the newly heated pile. Damp clothing and cold armor begin to dry.

This goes a long way to boosting morale again. Now if we only had some food.

Just then, I hear hoofbeats coming down the road. I curse out loud as I realize we never set up a watch. This could either be our guys coming back or more elves in pursuit. And here we are, caught flat-footed.

Everyone scrambles for their weapons; I pull my pistol and