Chapter 12: The Spirit
Tival’s dim hazel eyes rolled back in his head and Heldon might just scream. He couldn’t lift Tival with his broken arm. He couldn’t call for help because they were in the middle of a forest. They had no medical supplies. Heldon’s brain smoked trying to think of a solution.
Tival’s pulse fluttered weak and faint; he was losing him!
“Heldon…will this help?” Erik asked, holding out the vial of holy water that Heldon threw earlier. Erik was battered and bruised, claw marks raked down his neck and chest. Blood caked his uniform, and he had a bad limp.
Holy water was supposed to also heal wounds inflicted by the undead, but Tival was half-vampire. However, he did remember Tival said that holy water didn’t hurt him.
“Worth a shot, thanks.” Heldon took the vial with bloody hands and uncorked it.
“Tival, drink this.” Heldon propped up Tival’s head and poured the water through his full lips in a slow trickle. He had no idea if this would help or hurt, but this is all they had.