"You're Wu, right?"
The kid whirled around, taking several steps back as he did so.
"Hi," I said, feeling like an idiot, and then feeling even more like an idiot when Wu's frightened face made me realize I was still in the shadows of the trees. I bet he could barely see me. I walked forward, one hand held out to my side slightly in an attempt to look non-threatening, the other hand still clamped over my wound. "Remember me?"
Really, Lloyd? "Remember me?" How awkward could I get? I scolded myself, but in the next moment, Wu's face relaxed partially and he even managed a small smile.
"You're the guy who helped me," Wu realized. "Thank you! I don't know what I would've done. Tried to fight back and fail, probably. Hey, are you okay? They didn't get any hard punches in on you or anything? You're okay, right?"
"I'm okay," I said automatically, then I winced as a wave of pain went throbbing through my shoulder. "Well, uh. Actually, not entirely okay. I might… Need some help?"
Wu's eyes went wide. "Oh! Did you get punched in the face and get a bloody nose or something? Do you need a tissue?"
I'd need a bit more than a tissue, I thought wryly. I said, "Well, it turns out my dodging skills need a little work. They somehow managed to shoot me."
"They SHOT you?!" Wu exclaimed. "Oh, oh, oh no! Of course you're not okay then! We need to get you out of the rain! C'mon, you should come inside!"
He began herding the dog toward the door, which he opened for me once he made it there. Light streamed out of the house, which looked incredibly inviting.
But you know what? Not inviting enough to keep me from hesitating. I was down to the wire here, at the moment of decision. Out here in the backyard, I could still run and fight and hide. If I stepped into that house, the difficulty of running, fighting, and hiding would shoot way up. As caused by, you know, being stuck in a literal cage for hours a day when I was little, I hated feeling trapped.
However, I hated feeling useless even more, and right now, soaked and wounded, freezing and starving, I was more useless than I had ever been. I would just have to deal with it and hopefully get a little help out of the deal.
"Come on," Wu called, eyebrows furrowed with concern. "You'll feel better if you get out of the rain, and you'll feel even more better if-"
"Are your parents around?" I asked, cutting him off. The less people who knew about me, the better.
"My mom is. It's just the two of us. But my mom can help, I bet," Wu said earnestly, waving me forward.
Hesitantly, I began walking toward the door, my hand still pressing down on the path the gunshot had made in me.
As I came into the light, Wu squinted at me, then his eyes blew wide. "That's- that's a lot of blood. Oh man!"
He whirled on his heel again and sprinted into the house, leaving the door wide open behind him as he called, "Mom! Mom! Help! We need help quick!"
My brain felt like it was fighting to work but wrapped in layers of cotton slowing it down, which was probably partially my fear and partially the blood loss. Get help or get going? Get help or get going? Get help or get going? Could I get help?