Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 40484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 202(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 202(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
The road El took winded on the outskirts of a suburban neighborhood that would be very quiet so late in the evening, but if he cut straight through the grounds close to the hospital, he still had a chance catching up with El, before he disappeared like a pebble in the ocean.
Without thinking, he sprinted for the trees sprouting beyond the short brick fence on one side of the parking lot and jumped through that first hurdle with the night air cooling his flushed skin. His feet slipped on mud, down a slope hidden in the shadow of the leaves, but Trig managed to keep himself upright and jumped past the fallen trunk he’d barely noticed in the dark.
The glow of El’s headlights was like a beacon on the edge of his vision, but despite Trig’s heart itching to follow it, his brain took the reins and led him running toward a large building beyond the copse. He’d taken note of its presence on the way to the hospital, and unless memory failed him, El would need to drive past it once he left behind the checkerboard of small bungalows and their gardens.
His life might not end if he couldn’t catch El on time, but it would become a miserable existence filled with regret. After witnessing what he had earlier tonight, he would forever worry about El’s safety, even if they never met again.
Every breath reminded him of the time they’d both run for their lives because El had had the not-so-smart idea of arguing with a bunch of skinheads after a concert. Trig had ended up with a broken nose, and El’s eye had swollen so badly he’d run into a fire hydrant, but the pack of bald wolves on their tails fueled them with determination. Just when Trig had thought they’d run into a dead end at a construction site, El found a way to climb to one of the upper floors of the unfinished building.
He wouldn’t have been himself if he hadn’t knocked over a large box of nails to slow down the skinheads. Once they were sure they’d lost the bastards, they fucked like bunnies on speed, no matter the pain, bruises, and dirty floor. Trig always lost his mind when it came to El.
Every muscle in his body ached by the time he climbed the metal fence close to the warehouse, but white light already licked the bushes around him, casting a moving shadow on his face, and he dashed at the dense row of branches and leaves. He was so close. So very close the headlights blinded him already. The roar of El’s engine traveled up his back and buzzed its farewell, but Trig wouldn’t let him get away without saying goodbye.
Wood broke. Twigs smacked his face, but he pushed through, and the dense bush spat him into the road. Trig leaped forward, grabbed the side mirror, and rolled onto the hood of El’s car.
The vehicle came to an abrupt stop, its brakes screaming, but the sudden change in pace ejected Trig and sent him rolling over the asphalt. Were he any less experienced, the collision might have killed him, but he twisted in the air and broke his fall with both hands, which felt like raw meat by the time he was stretched on his back, like a log left in the middle of the street.
The world was spinning when Trig dragged himself to his hands and knees, but when it finally stopped, El was still behind the wheel, his eyes wide as if he’d just had a near-death experience. Thank God the idiot had been going so slow.
Trig braced himself for El pressing the gas pedal, but after a moment of stupor, El bolted out of the car and ran toward him.
“Fuck! Are you okay?” He grabbed Trig by the arms, but the grip in one of his hands was weak, only reminding Trig that El shouldn’t have been driving even if he weren’t attempting some ridiculous escape.
“Don’t you fucking ‘are you okay’ me now!” Trig roared, picking himself up with a scowl. Both of his palms had long, angry scratches, some of which bled, but that wasn’t important in the face of El’s stupidity. “What the fuck?”
El spread his arms, looking like an angry rooster with a green comb on top of his head. “I got overwhelmed, okay? I almost died, then I saw you kill three people, I’m indebted up to my ears, I found out you’ve been coming to my house, and now I’m supposed to follow you to your biker buddies like nothing happened?”
Trig scowled and cursed when he realized he couldn’t properly move his arm. He couldn’t believe this shit. “Get the fucking car off the road,” he said, nodding at the dark alley on the side of the warehouse. Before El could have answered, Trig gritted his teeth, grabbed his shoulder, and pushed it into place, adjusting the joint. Nausea choked him, but he bore with it and waited for the pain to subside.