It was nearly impossible to sprint past the trees. As Richard dodged them, the memory of claws digging into his chest and razor-sharp teeth tearing apart his neck gave him the inspiration he needed to keep moving. If he remembered right, the man had told him it was a quarter of a mile before he would find base camp.

  He tried to fathom what had happened. Two minutes ago, he was in his bedroom, but he couldn’t remember anything else about his life. He had been so tired, yet he was used to that level of exhaustion. He died, and with that knowledge, he couldn’t help but wonder why his parents weren’t there. They would know how serious his condition was. Yet… yet he died alone. Even though he didn’t remember his parents, he felt a sense of betrayal at this realization.

  Even now, something stretched over his mind, urging him to forget that past life. This was his life now. He didn’t have cancer anymore. And despite still not remembering much, he remembered the leopard. The claws. The jackass that used him as a meat shield.

  Richard tried to keep his breathing steady and quiet, but that was nearly impossible when he was sprinting through the deadly forest. He didn’t know what that time-travel restart was, but he didn’t dare push his luck. He had to assume it wouldn’t happen again.

  He kept running, hearing demonic sounds in the forest. Why hadn’t he heard it before? Perhaps he was too focused on not knowing who he was or why he was here. True, he still didn’t, but now he knew base camp offered answers and hopefully even safety. That was the best chance he had. He had gone back in time for two minutes, and remembered what he needed to do now. He would use this to his advantage.

  He broke through the edge of the forest. It surprised him so much he let out a gasp. A large clearing stretched ahead of him. The forest had stopped growing, and instead he saw dead dirt and sand. After only seeing tree trunks and canopy, he could now see everything. He saw the forest stretched around this section of dead dirt. The ocean was about two miles away, with a craggy cliff in the distance and waves lapping against it. Most importantly, he saw a strong stone wall circling around what he hoped was base camp nestled in the middle of all this dead dirt and demonic forest. Guards patrolled on top, walking around the wall, watching.

  “Hey! Hey! Open up!” Richard shouted as he kept running, waving his hands in the air. He was still far from the gate opening, but he wanted them to open it now. They would open it, right?

  A roar made him jump, and he twisted around. The leopard broke out of the trees, the glowing fire eyes aimed right at him. Genius him shouted at people when he knew this monster roamed the forest.

  “Shit!”

  Richard sprinted toward the gate. He thought with the added strength of a cancer-free body, he would get at least to the base of the gate, but this healthy body failed him. He barely made it a few steps before claws dug into his back. Richard screamed, wondering if maybe his luck would hold. Perhaps he would wake up in that hospital bed again and discover more about his past life. How many times could he travel back to that moment?

  An arrow buried into the leopard’s forehead. Richard was on his stomach, the dirt drinking in too much of his blood. He was going to die. Again. The leopard collapsed next to Richard, the flame eyes puffing out.

  “Does anyone have a potion?” someone above him shouted.

  The guards were already here. Richard couldn’t move, as he no longer sensed his legs. He wasn’t sure what his back looked like, but that leopard took chunks out of his skin. Perhaps even a few vertebrae.

  “Is he still alive?”

  If he didn’t go back in time again, this would be it. He had asked for the chance of another life, and now he would be bound to a wheelchair for another fifty years.

  Someone pinned his shoulder so he would stop squirming. Richard wanted to scream in pain, but all he could get out was a groan.

  “He’s alive! Who has the potion!”

  Blobs of color shaped like humans appeared as pain wracked his body and messed with his vision. He was a dead man. He let out a shiver. For whatever reason, it was the idea of possibly seeing the man in the corner again that caused his body to do that.

  A thick liquid spread across his back. He didn’t know what they were doing, but his vision jumped back. He wasn’t bleeding out anymore, but he felt the pain with new force. His legs were still numb. His lungs regained their strength again, and he used them to their full extent.

  “We’ve got to get him to Lucy!” someone said.

  Richard had to be hallucinating the guard, who had to be well over seven feet tall. The guard scooped Richard up as if he were a child. Richard didn’t have time to be embarrassed about it as he kept using his newly fixed lungs. These men were trying to help, and the best thing to do was not to writhe in pain.

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  But shit, it hurt. And the guard thought it was perfectly acceptable to place his gloved hand on the raw flesh of his back.

  Richard found himself within the stone walls. His shouts moved people out of the way. Their hospital was right next to the gate, which Richard found to be smart planning.

  “Lucy?” the guard holding Richard shouted.

  “Here! I’m here. I heard him from outside the gates. Set him down.” Richard was placed on a cot. Cold sweat drenched his face, and he fought the urge to vomit. A woman walked into view, about Richard’s age. She had long black hair, and she gathered it up into a ponytail, her brown eyes scanning his wounds.

  “I can’t feel my legs.” Richard said it so fast it sounded like one word.

  Lucy’s face hardened, and she glared at the very tall guard. “Okay, thank you for setting him down. What I’d like you to do is turn him around so I can actually attend to the wound.” The guard cleared his throat before helping Richard turn around. “Wait, wait, wait,” Lucy said, stopping the guard from finishing what she was asking. “Who administered the healing potion to this patient?”

  “I did,” the guard at the doorway said.

  “You’ve only been here a couple of months, right? So let’s review. What’s rule number one about healing potions?” Lucy asked.

  “Uh…”

  For her answer, Lucy grabbed the remains of Richard’s shirt and ripped it off. Richard shouted in a different sort of pain. Something pulled at his back before tearing away with the shirt. No, it pulled at his very skin.

  “Remove all clothing around the wound before applying the healing potion! If not, the material will get stuck in the wound and merge with the freshly healed skin!” Lucy shouted, throwing the blood-covered shirt at the guard.

  He caught it, embarrassed. “Oh, uh, sorry, Lucy. He was in a lot of pain and needed it quickly.”

  Lucy motioned to the other guard to finish turning Richard around. Richard was certain he was going to black out.

  “He did need it quick, yes. And he still does need more potion. But you know what I have to do now? I have to open his damn wounds again so I can extract every bit of shirt out of his body. Because if I don’t, this man will not die of a scary demon leopard like any respectable person would beg to die of. No, he’ll die of an infection!”

  “I… sorry,” the guard said.

  “Just hope he doesn’t die. Because you’ll be the one to take him out when Death collects him,” Lucy said.

  The guard paled.

  “Is… there someone… else? To help me?” Richard asked, now that he was on his stomach.

  “I’m the only healer here. It is my gift, and Order has blessed me with a few master levels.” Lucy walked up to him and placed her fingers on his back. She was about to say something else, but Richard pushed through.

  “I trust you. It’s just… I….” Richard heaved, and all the contents of his stomach landed on the floor.

  Lucy sighed. “Brag about my skill levels and forget a common response from a newbie.” A bucket slid toward him. “If there’s anything left, put ‘er in there.”

  The cold sweat on his forehead turned hot. “I… I’m going to… pass out.”

  “Yeah, that’d be fine.” Lucy placed her fingers on Richard’s back. “Honestly, you’ll probably pass out in another minute or two, anyway. The jackass over there forgot the number one rule with healing potions.”

  Was this entire camp filled with jerks?

  There was no heart monitor here, and Lucy wasn’t placing an IV in him. This entire place was primitive. And yet, that potion stopped him from bleeding out. He wasn’t sure what his back looked like right now, and he had no desire to peek. There might not be technology, but he was certain those healing potions had something in them. How else could they stop the bleeding so fast?

  The large guard headed toward the door. “We’ve got to go. Another newbie’s been spotted outside the gates. This isn’t a good sign.”

  “I hope I don’t have to see another newbie for a while, so stop any animals trying to kill them before it actually gets them,” Lucy said.

  The guards left, and Richard’s vision grayed again around the edges. Lucy placed some glasses on her nose, then touched the side of them. She leaned down, looking at his back. “Ah. There you are.” She placed a finger on his back, and a white hot flame sprouted from her finger. Richard squirmed, trying to muffle a scream, but he did all the same.

  “Shit, woman! Have you no anesthesia?”

  “Tell me, friend. What is anesthesia?” Lucy sounded calm, like they were having a pleasant conversation during brunch.

  Richard panted, trying to understand what she meant. Didn’t she know what anesthesia was? It was…

  “Of course we could extract a form of numbing from a specific mushroom plant you’d find inside that deadly forest, but a sphinx took up residence by the grove of mushrooms. No one has solved her riddle because scavengers are not very smart. We’ve been rationing our numbing paste.”

  “What?” Richard asked.

  A smile grew on Lucy’s face. “I enjoy seeing the slight panic in newbie’s eyes when I dump information on them.”

  “What?” Richard asked again, then screamed as Lucy opened another wound. “Can you at least warn me?”

  “I thought you were going to pass out. Any moment now would be great. It’s easier to heal you if you’re unconscious.”

  Richard thought he was supposed to be paralyzed by now. He expected nothing less from a demon leopard attack. Something squelched out of his back as Lucy pulled out a chunk of shirt. Richard went clammy, then vomited in the bucket.

  “Good job not missing it.”

  Richard shot Lucy an annoyed look. She kept working on his back. “Dmitri said I needed to practice my bedside manner.” She discarded the cloth onto the ground. Her fingers were bloody, and Richard stared.

  “You’re not using tweezers?”

  “And why, friend, would I need tweezers?”

  “Sanitation! You… my blood, it’s… that’s disgusting!”

  Lucy grunted, then searched through the open wound on his back. “Someone’s not getting the gift of healing from Order. Pity. In an apocalypse, I need help,” Lucy said.

  “Don’t know who’d want to,” Richard muttered before he could stop himself. He obviously meant that healing wounds was disgusting and would undoubtably be a job no one would want, but Lucy probably took it in a more insulting way.

  Lucy gave a terrifying chuckle before another white hot pain exploded in his back. “Oops. Sorry. Went a little deeper than I intended.”

  Richard had a response to that, but the gray around his vision darkened. He let out a moan, and he welcomed the darkness. Maybe there would be another backwards time jump. This time he could make sure the leopard never touched him so he wouldn’t have to deal with Lucy.

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