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The more his dad went on with his ramble, the more uncomfortable and scared Orel was getting, gripping onto his gun for comfort.
"WITH NOWHERE TO GO, AND NOWHERE TO BE!" Clay shouts, he closed his eyes shut and started screaming.
Orel flinched, and his hands kept fiddling with the gun, his body shaking as his dad's screaming continued on. His hands shook and he tried getting grip on the gun again as the gun slipped.
.
.
BANG
Orel's face went pale as he processed what just happened. His dad is frozen in place holding on to the side of his torso, blood starting to coat his vest.
"DAD!" He shouted out, "DAD, ARE YOU OKAY?"
His heart is racing, and his blood is running cold.
Clay drops to the floor with a strained grunt, his bottles of liquor shattering as it hit the log beneath him, he coughs and gasps out as he tries to breathe and grips his injury on his side harder.
Orel drops his gun and immediately runs to his dad's side, tears forming in the sides of his eyes, immediately blaming himself and his dumb fucking hands. The tears fall to his cheeks as he looks as his dad, "DAD, I'M SORRY! I'M SO SORRY!"
Clay's vision is getting blurry as the blood continues to pour, "I- band.. aghes." he slurs his words together, not being able to form a full sentence.
As he lays there it gets harder for him to stay awake, either it was the amount of pain from the injury, or it was the blood he was losing that was making him lose consciousness, his dad didn't seem to have any adrenaline pumping in him. Either way Orel knew he had to do something about it, he tries to stop panicking, calming down his breathing, and thinks about what his dad had said.
Orel immediately snaps his head up, he has to get something, anything to help keep pressure on the wound.
He sighs as he looks down at his dad's clothing. No, he couldn't do this, his dad would get mad at him if he dared to mess up anything of his. He then looked at his own lucky shirt, he closes his eyes, bracing himself.
"This is for you dad.."
He ripped the entire bottom half of his shirt, and started to wrap it around his dad's waist, securing the wound on his torso.
By time he had finished wrapping it, his dad had already been passed out, he starts to look around, remembering his first-aid kit he brought with him, the one his dad told him not to bring for some reason, he knew that he'd have to use it eventually, he just hoped his dad wouldn't be mad at him.
Orel grabbed the rubbing alcohol and opened it, he started to pour it on the wound, he heard sizzling noises, immediately knowing that it was working. He then closed the bottle of rubbing alcohol and put it back in his first-aid kit.
He put all the stuff away, and started to drag his dad to their tent, he struggled in doing so, but eventually he brought him back inside, he curled up into a ball, turned away from his dad, tears started to swell up again and he started sniffling.
He jumped up when he heard sounds coming from outside, when he looked outside, he saw a bear, almost immediately, he started closing the tent up and turning to look at his dad.
Maybe they could think about what to do in the morning, for now, Orel just needed rest.
He lays on his back and looks to the roof of the tent with one thought on his mind.
His dad would've done the same thing for him...
Right?