Who? Who is it? Who shot him?
“Alice?”
Dean! “Dean?”
He rushed over, skidding to a stop and nearly tripping over his feet. He pulled me out from under the desk I’d cowered under, not even giving me the opportunity to crawl out on my own. We both pulled each other close, although he did do most of the pulling. I wrapped my arms around him shuddering and shivering, so full of disbelief that I didn’t care that he’d been an idiot and came back. He came back. I broke out in fresh tears. His fingers found the base of my neck through my greasy, tangled hair and held me to his chest. Sweat. Dirt. Smoke. It was him. He was real. I wasn’t completely crazy. My mind was still intact, my imagination hadn’t taken over. Through his clothing he was radiating heat which I tried burrowing into him taking all the heat I could hold. The more warmth I seemed to pull from Dean the more I seemed to shiver and freeze.
One of his hands moved to my cheek, then to my forehead. I closed my eyes at his touch. “Rick? She’s burning up.”
Another hand touched my face followed by a mumbled curse. “You’ll have to carry her. I’ll lead.”
“I’m fine,” I croaked. “I’m just really cold. And everything hurts.” I mumbled.
Dean picked me up, one hand against my back the other behind my knees. “It’s ok. You’re ok. Just sit back ok, I got you.” His hand brushed the wound on my thigh as he adjusted my weight. The pain making me scream and clutch at him. As I spasmed he was forced to readjust his grip to keep from dropping me. This time I didn’t fight the black curtains as they took over my vision. I didn’t fade completely. Just enough to be able to block it all out.
“What the hell? What’s wrong?” Dean exclaimed.
“I don’t know.” Rick’s voice was quiet, reassuring and close. “We’ll go out the same way we came in. No point in getting fancy and getting turned around.”
Dean softly bounced as he barreled through the building following Rick I assumed. I didn’t pull my face away from his chest. Simply content to let myself get swept away in the dark. It didn’t feel bad but it didn’t feel good. It was simply a lack of everything. I was only aware of myself and the heat emitting from Dean.
…
I was woken up by more pain. My throat protested as I screamed in agony.
“It’s ok, its ok.” Dean panted. I opened my eyes quickly, looking around me in confusion. I was in the car. Lying haphazardly across the back seat. Dean was crawling in beside me while Rick was climbing into the front passenger seat. As soon as they were clear the car lunged forward.
“Oh my god… she’s alive.” Richard gasped from the driver’s seat.
“Yes. Now drive!” Rick screamed. He leaned out the window firing his gun. The sharp cracks from it making everything shimmer. Someone fired return shots which hit the back of the car. Rick only sat back down inside the car after we disappeared around the corner. Hiding us from view. He rapidly began working on reloading.
Dean was busy shoving blankets on top of me wrapping me tightly. “We need to get her fever down. If we don’t, she will die.”
I turned my eyes to stare at him. I had to look at him. Even if it was in the dark, I had to see his face. I wanted to know his answer to this. “Dean? Do you think herding cats away from boxes would be a fun and satisfying job?”
He smiled sadly down at me, “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never tried, I’ve never even touched a cat before.”
“She has a fever? She wasn’t bit, was she?” Richard called.
Dean uncovered my leg, pulling it out from under the layers of blankets. He ripped the bandage off. “Shot. She was shot.”
“Ok, we can work with this. Just… we just have to ... what is that!”
“Richard!” Rick screamed.
There was a sudden explosion and without warning the car was thrown into the air. We seemed to magically float suspended in the air, frozen in time. Then the moment ended. We were violently thrown again as the car hit the ground and rolled over and over again. We were all thrown every which way with no warning. Chaos ensued as arms and legs intermingled, everything crashed into everything. Heads connected with abdomens. Feet landed against backs and chairs. Everything that wasn’t tied down was thrown about. As the car finally came to a stop upside down. I came to a sudden stop, resting on my stomach with something heavy thrown across my back. As I gasped for breath, I was flickering again. I could just barely keep myself on the edge of consciousness. I felt something hot trickling through my hair. It tickled and itched as whatever it was rolled down my scalp.
“Dean?” I coughed.
A soft moan was the only answer I received. I coughed miserably, while my lungs screamed for more air.
As I drifted away into unconsciousness, Rick spoke from the front seat. His voice sounded breathy, but he still carefully enunciated every word. “Mockingbird… to Songbird… do you… read?” He coughed thickly, “Songbird this is Mock-mockingbird. I need immediate… emergency pickup. I’m sending the coordinates… now.” With a gasp he stopped speaking. I could still hear his breathing, he was still alive at least.
The radio crackled to life, with a female voice stating, “Copy Mockingbird, this is Songbird. We are enroute now, ETA is five minutes. Hang on, we’re coming for you.”
Dead Paper Birds Page 34