AMERICA POV
Slowly, I come to. I feel a weight on my stomach, and look down to find my husband draped across my body. One arm covering my stomach, and the other hand intertwined with mine.
Ugh. My shoulder. I was shot in my shoulder. My head hurts worse though, and I suspect I fell unconscious from a concussion and not what looks like only a flesh wound from the bullet. I look at Maxon's unconscious face and pale. His face is gray, and as I put my hand to his cheek, his cold.
No no no no. You cannot be dead. "You cannot be dead!" I scream. My head is pounding, and my shoulder throbbing, but I roll him over with my good arm as fast as I can, and begin pumping on his chest. I saw this once.
There was an eights couple that used to beg from food and money on my street back home. One night, when my mother and I were walking home late from a party we worked, we saw the man pumping on his wife's chest. He was crying hysterically, calling for help, saying that she was dead. We went over to see what we could do, but she was very clearly dead, we assumed from starvation as she was skin and bones, but he would not stop. He said he could bring her back. I don't know what happened to them, my mother pulled me away when the officers ran up to take care of it, and I never saw either of them again.
I keep pumping on his chest, and because I saw the man do this too, I lean down and breathe into his mouth. As I am leaning down, I notice blood drip onto his cheek. What? I reach for the back of my head and find my hair matted with blood, and my fingers come back dark red. I've cut my head open. It doesn't matter. I'm conscious, and I have to save Maxon.
I start pumping again, shaking my head to clear the black spots that are starting to form in front of my vision.
Save Maxon.
I breathe into his mouth again, then lean my head down to see if I can hear the heartbeat that sang so strongly only hours before. Nothing. Complete silence.
"NO!" I scream at the top of my lungs. I start pumping again, refusing to stop. But what can I do? He's dead. Our baby doesn't have a father. There is nothing that I can do, I am so helpless. What can I do?!
It make be futile but I don't stop pumping his chest. My eyes are so blurred with tears that I can't see anything through them.
I figure when the doors burst open it is a rebel guard coming to shoot me. I don't look up. I just keep pumping. Blood is trickling down my back now, I can feel it. I don't stop pumping. Hands land on my shoulders and I try to shake them off, but the fingers grip tighter, and pull me away from my husband.
"Let go of me! He's dead! He's dead already! Please, he's already gone. He's already gone."
"Not if I can help it, princess." And I finally look up into the eyes of the royal doctor. I feel a glimmer of hope before everything goes black once more.
I'm writing the next chapter now, so I'll post either tonight or tomorrow morning. Thanks for reading!