“Just put the gun down. You're driving, remember?” I tried to say calmly, but my voice hitched and caught on each syllable.
He shook the revolver in my face and began shouting at me over his shoulder again. This meant he didn't see the next curve and the drop-off alongside it.
“Matt, look out!” I screamed.
I braced my legs against the front seat, grabbed at the handle above me and gripped Bobby's headrest with the other hand. We hit the guardrail head-on and two clouds exploded in the front of the truck. The airbags lost just enough of their cushioning that when Bobby's upper body flew forward as the guardrail broke free and the truck pitched downwards, he slammed face first into the dashboard. Blood flew backwards, running sideways on the passenger window in dozens of tiny rivers before sprinkling my face.
The front tires suspended momentarily in the air before the weight of the truck tilted and we crashed forward, tipping the truck over, front-end first. Cans of green beans and spam tumbled violently from the truck bed onto the roof and rolled down the hood and over the edge as the truck teetered before plummeting. All I could see was bright white, then black, bright white, black, bright white, black as we flipped over and over. Small cubes of glass floated from one side of the cab to the other as the windows imploded, slashing at my face and neck, gouging my arms. A body slammed into me and then disappeared after we hit something large and splinters of wood and pine needles filled the cab. My grip on the 'Oh Shit' handle was ripped free when the truck lurched to the left and began rolling on its side...bright white, black, bright white, black, bright white, black, bright white...black.
***
They had turned south onto the highway, after seeing the back of Matt's truck veer to the right at the end of the lodge driveway. Long and black tread marks tattooed the empty road and Connor's stomach clenched. Fin was driving fast, but clearly not as fast as Matt.
“We've gotta catch up, Fin.” He gritted through his teeth, while pulling the harness strap tight around his chest.
“I'm going as fast as I can without flying off the road, okay?” Fin snapped back. For miles they followed the sporadic skid marks that went into the shoulder and across the oncoming lane.
Connor cursed when he saw the missing chunk of guardrail. “There! Stop!”
Fin drove the truck onto the dirt and slammed the brakes so hard Connor's harness locked. He cursed again when he couldn't immediately disengage the latch.
“Christ, get me out of this truck!” He yelled frantically at the empty cab. Fin had already bolted from the driver seat and was peering over the damaged rail. Connor's latch finally released and he threw the door open. Zoey scrambled out of the vehicle behind him, unsure what was going on.
He was three feet away from the drop-off when Fin, his face bloodless, turned and stopped him, grabbing him by the shoulders. “Jesus, Connor, don't look.” His voice cracked.
He shoved his weight into Fin, gaining a mere foot of ground. “I need to see.” He flailed his arms until Fin lost his grip and tried to step away from him. Fin gave him a solid shove to the chest, pushing him back, further away from the railing.
“No. No, no, no. I need to see, Fin!” He screamed in the larger man's face and punched his jaw. Fin barely flinched but stepped aside, raising his hands to the back of his head and dropped down onto his knees.
At least five feet of railing had been ripped out and Connor moved slowly toward the hole. Canned goods were strewn about the dirt along with broken glass, plastic, and pieces of the front end of Matt's truck. The land sloped down steeply, dotted with the occasional tree and boulder. For what looked like several hundred feet, fresh tufts of upturned earth stretched out below him, in a pattern. The bushes and ground glittered with glass and a bag of someone’s clothes had ripped apart, sending the contents sprawling over fifty square feet. Connor could see a man's lightweight jacket hanging loosely upside down on a pine tree branch at least two stories high. The thin blue fabric swayed gently against the tree, still caught in the momentum of its flight.
He followed the path of destruction, his insides knotting, his breath stilling, until his eyes settled on the truck. It didn't look like a truck anymore. It looked like a badly crumpled car; the bed was destroyed and bent backwards, away from the cab, and the passenger side door was ripped off. It lay on the driver side, with a steady stream of pale smoke drifting from under what was left of the hood.
He bit down on his hand and screamed. There's no way, no way she could survive this. He dragged his hands down his face and looked around them. Nature was observing in silence. The birds hid in the trees and even the wind had died. All he could hear was the rapid thudding of his heart, the blood pumping behind his ears and his own voice screaming inside his head. He thought he was screaming out loud because the dog started barking at him; the echo vibrating down the highway and below them into the hills.
But the scream wasn't coming from him. He turned in a slow semi-circle and met Fin's eyes, which were moist and bloodshot. Fin wasn't screaming either. Zoey barked at his feet again before rushing down the drop off, skidding through bushes and stumbling over rocks toward the sound of a screaming woman. Riley was somewhere down there, alive, and from the sound of it, in excruciating pain.
Fin and Connor hit the dirt running at the same time. They slid half-way down the hill on their asses, and ran when they could stand upright. Zoey stopped near the bottom and turned around in several tight circles, barking at them as they stumbled their way down the steep embankment. But then she ran off, to the truck, following along the massive gouge marks the vehicle had made on its descent. He saw her pacing around the truck, before gingerly climbing inside the gap where the windshield had been. From his angle, he couldn't see inside the cab.
Riley's screams turned into sobs as they got closer to the wreckage. Zoey barked loudly, as if telling them to hurry and as soon as the land flattened the men bolted. Fin, being half a foot taller, sprinted easily ahead of him.
They almost ran right past the body. Alan's mangled corpse lay in a thick tangle of bushes where the dog had circled before. His bloodied head was unnaturally lumpy and every bone in his body appeared bent at all the wrong angles.
Only pausing for a handful of seconds, they burst into a run again, and reached the truck together. Fin leaned over the hood and peered inside from the gaping hole that used to be the passenger window of the cab. Connor scrambled along the ground, wedging himself partly inside the same way the dog had gone. He found Zoey lying across Riley's midsection.
“Oh god, Riley.” He reached in to touch her.
“Connor we have to get her out, can you climb inside?” Fin's tone was commanding and Connor nodded at him without argument.
“Yeah, but I can't get in. The seats are in the way...and...Bobby.” The overweight man's face was gone, a bloody mess of crushed bone and brain matter. His right arm had been severed at the shoulder, most likely when the door was ripped off.
Fin tapped on the hood with his hand. “Climb up and drop in.”
Riley was crumpled in a ball, her left arm jammed above her head, covered in blood. A long gash ran down her right shin and her ankle was buried beneath the driver seat. Fin lowered him through the side window and he stepped inside the cab, using the front seat as a step ladder.
“It's okay, Riley, we're here. Sshh…” He spoke softly. He had to straddle her to get close enough to touch her. When he reached out and put his hand on her awkwardly bent arm, she screamed and then threw up on his foot.
***
For the second time in one afternoon, I woke up disoriented and in pain. But this pain was different. A searing heat erupted from my shoulder and when I tried to move my arm the joint slid loosely, sending waves of intense spasms all through my arm and torso. And I screamed. I screamed until I couldn’t handle it anymore, and turned my head to the side and puked. Breathing hurt my shoulder, screaming hurt, but it was all I could do.
When Zoey wriggled into the cab I star
ted sobbing, which shook my arm even more. And eventually, I had to scream again. Everything hurt. Muscles felt ripped, bones felt busted, and blood was everywhere, though I knew it wasn't all mine. Bobby's blood was dripping from his dead body and pooling next to me. I puked again.
Please let them find me before I die, I said in my head.
It seemed like hours before Fin popped his head into the missing passenger window, where I had been sitting when the truck was speeding down the highway. I groaned in agony, unable to talk, not exactly sure what had happened. The cab smelled of blood, bowel and vomit and I was afraid of passing out again from the smell alone.
Connor lowered himself down to me and tried to lift my arm. The pain forced what little was left in my stomach to come out and I choked on the screams.
“Fin, I can't move her without it hurting bad.” Connor's voice was terrified.
“Get me out!” I wailed.
“You're just going to have to grab her and lift her up; I can pull her through the top.” Fin said from above us.
Connor crouched down, and slid his arm underneath me. He lifted my upper body first and I cried in pain as he carefully pulled my left wrist down and into my chest.
“It's okay baby, almost there. Almost there.” He whispered against my cheek.
He had to kick at the seat to free my foot and strained to pull me upright. I was aware of a throbbing in my shin, but compared to the pain in my head and shoulder, it was easy to dismiss. Connor hoisted me up and Fin tugged on my right arm to pull me through the narrow window. He held me close to him, murmuring softly into my neck while he waited for Connor to climb out and jump to the ground to help Fin lower me off the truck.
Once on the ground, they laid me flat and Zoey resumed her place at my side. Connor tried to shoo her back so he could get a closer look at me but she refused and even growled at his nudges. Fin ran his hands along my left arm and over my shoulder, ignoring my shrieks.
“I think it's dislocated.” He said with a deep frown.
“Do you know how to put it back in?” Connor asked.
Fin shrugged. “I’ve seen it done. It’ll hurt.”
“Oh god.” I moaned.
Fin pushed the bloodied hair off my face that was starting to dry to my forehead. “If we do this right, it shouldn't take long, okay?” I tried to nod and looked away as Fin positioned Connor near my head, to hold my torso still and he straightened my left arm laying it carefully by my side.
“On three.” He said to Connor, and then looked down at me, getting close to my face. “This is going to hurt, Riley, but you'll be okay, I promise.”
With my wrist in his hand, he bent my elbow and rotated my lower arm into my chest and then out away from my body. He tugged and I thrashed below him, screaming.
“Stop Fin! Stop pulling!” Connor yelled to be heard over my cries.
Again, Fin bent my elbow and rotated my arm in and out. After four tries a loud popping sound came from my shoulder and I felt it slide back into place. The relief was almost immediate and I cried softly into Connor's sleeve as he gently wiped at my face.
“Thank you. Thank you.” I said over and over to Fin.
He rubbed my arm and put it back on my chest and tore his flannel shirt open, not bothering to undo the buttons. As they flew off the fabric, I thought they resembled the sound of popping corn. They splayed around us like confetti, and Zoey jumped when one bounced off the top of her head. Fin’s thin white t-shirt clung to his sweaty chest, making his muscles more visible. Little tufts of dark hair peeked out of the top of his shirt, decorating his collar bone. I stared at the delicate concave below his throat as he moved above me.
“We can make a sling out of this. But we have to figure out how to get you back up that hill.” He nodded up at the road and pulled the shirt around my arm, tying it together behind my neck.
“Do you think you can walk?” Connor asked.
“My leg hurts...but I think so.”
Fin lifted the torn fabric of my jeans to peer at my shin. “You'll need stitches for this.” He stood up and scanned the area while Connor pulled me into a sitting position. “I'll be right back.”
Connor hugged me to him while we waited for Fin to return. He brought a long sleeve thermal shirt and a t-shirt that he found amid the scattered debris. He wrapped the thermal tightly around my leg and folded the shirt in half before wrapping it around my head. Woozy and wobbly, Fin helped me stand with Connor's assistance. I couldn't put weight down on my leg, but with their help I could hop.
“Okay?” Fin asked softly as he slipped his arm around me, like Connor had done from my other side. I nodded, and he leaned down and kissed the side of my head.
Zoey trotted ahead of us but stopped after a few feet and abruptly turned around, her hackles going up along her back, as she let loose a string of vicious barks in our direction.
“What is it, girl?” I asked weakly, too exhausted to lift my head and look around.
A gunshot pierced the silence, its echo ricocheting through the trees. I screamed at the pain in my ears from the deafening noise, while I collapsed to my knees with Connor still holding onto me. Zoey yelped in fear and darted away from us. Fin stumbled and then stood stiffly on my other side before making a soft grunting sound and falling face-first to the ground.
“Fin!”
“Damn. I was aiming for the other asshole. Sorry.” Matt's words hung in the air behind us.
Connor scrambled to his feet, splaying his hands out before him, quickly stepping between Matt's revolver and my feet as I crawled frantically to Fin's side. Blood soaked through the back of his shirt from a large, dark hole that was almost perfectly centered between his shoulder blades. I knelt down next to his face and caressed his cheek with my shaky hand. His cloudy gaze settled on mine for a moment, and a soft gust of air passed between his lips. He didn't take another breath.
“Oh no. Please, no.” I cried into his shoulder, and shook him gently. “Fin? Please, no.” I tried to roll him, but he was too heavy for me to move with one hand.
I wailed at Matt, “What have you done?” I tried to stand but collapsed next to Fin's still body. Zoey crawled over to me and rested her shaking head on Fin’s arm.
Matt's eyes glowed with wild rage as he looked from me to Connor. One of his arms was obviously broken and he had several gashes on his head and torso. He stood awkwardly, his body trembling with one leg bent to the side unnaturally, causing his whole right side to droop. A stiff breeze would have been enough to bring him crashing down.
“You should watch.” He said to me as he raised the revolver and aimed it at Connor's head. I screamed as he pulled the trigger.
***
Matt's mouth opened in a comical 'o' shape as he stared down the barrel of his gun at Connor, who was still standing, his hands held out in front of him in the same defensive position. He pulled the trigger again, with the same result...only a clicking sound. I sucked in a ragged breath and ran my hand across Fin's waist band until my fingers felt the cool steel of his pistol. I tugged on it, pulling it out from under his shirt. I glanced at it once before I aimed it at Matt's chest.
He smiled. His cut and bleeding lips pulled tightly at the corners, showing a large gap where one of his front teeth had been. He pointed his revolver at Connor again. I squeezed the trigger of Fin’s gun and felt the recoil jolt through my arm as Matt flew backwards, landing in the dirt with a solid thud.
I crawled past Connor, who was still frozen in shock, until I was lying next to Matt. He tried talking but choked as blood spurted from his mouth instead of words. I held Fin's gun up for him to see, and before he took his last bloody breath, I pressed the barrel against his temple and squeezed the trigger slowly as I whispered into his ear, “I remembered the safety this time, mother fucker.”
***
Sweat had rinsed some of the blood off my face from the climb up the hillside but it was still nearly impossible to see. At one point, we crawled over the uneven ground on
our hands and knees. By the time we made it to the top, we collapsed on the dirt shoulder of the highway, completely spent. My mouth was full of the gritty taste of earth, and the bitter, iron taste of blood.
Connor rolled onto his side and held me until our breathing regulated. The wind had picked up; bringing with it the woody smell of fire and Connor looked up the road with a worried expression. He loaded me quietly into the truck and fastened my seat belt. Zoey climbed onto my lap, despite my hisses of pain.
“We've got to get back.” Connor said in a strained voice.
“What's wrong?” I asked, my voice sounding miles away.
He sighed heavily as we pulled back onto the highway. “They set the lodge on fire.”
“How bad?” I chewed on the inside of my cheek and warily ran my tongue over a cut on my lower lip.
“I don't know. But the main building is gone...at least.”
I looked out the window as Connor turned the truck around and began the climb back up the mountain. Tears flowed freely down my cheeks as I thought of Fin.
“We won't leave him there.” Connor said quietly, as if reading my thoughts. “I'll get help, and go back and get him.”
I nodded and wiped at my face. My head throbbed steadily and with each wave of pain I struggled to fight back the urge to throw up again.
“Riley, it's a miracle you survived that crash.” Connor said weakly as he took the turns slow.
“Well,” I said dryly, “I guess you can thank the 'Oh Shit' handle.” I felt him look over at me, but I leaned back into the head rest and watched the scenery in the side mirror shrink as I cried quietly for Fin.
The smell of fire grew stronger as we neared the lodge. I was half expecting to see the trees ablaze when we reached the driveway but they weren't. Nothing was burning actually but the lodge stood an empty, darkened-shell of its former self…smoldering. As we drove closer to the building, we could see right through it to the open lawn and the surrounding buildings...all untouched.
I Hope You Find Me Page 25