Chapter 61: I'm on a Highway to Hell

3.6K 312 63
                                    

-Chapter 61-

Matthew Eli's POV:

Pain tore through my skull. I couldn't blink. I tried again and bit back a scream. I couldn't breathe. No, damn it. Breathe. You can't pass out now. You're stronger than that.

Despite the blood running freely down my face, I knew my inner voice spoke true. I wouldn't pass out. I swallowed hard, making my bike speed faster down the highway. North's strong arms held tight around my middle and I tried not to roll my eyes.

Hell, I tried not to think about my eyes. Because one eye was crystal clear and the other was full of red, but I suppose red was better than seeing nothing.

The pain was dizzying. We were only about 40 miles past the wreckage, but I found myself pulling over anyhow.

"You alright?"

I laughed as North steadied me. Pain shot through my eye socket and back into my brain. Was I alright?

"No. I don't think..." I puked all over my own boots. I swore, then puked again. My head was spinning. North caught me before I hit the ground.

***

North Taylor's POV:

Matthew was half dead when he pulled over. His hands were shaking worse than ever and he still managed to laugh when I asked if he was alright.

I took that as I good sign. He just needed to walk off some of the pain and we would get moving again, but then he started to puke.

And there was blood in it.

He must have internal bleeding.

When Matthew closed his eyes, the glass cut worse into his eyelid. Blood was running down his face again where dried tracks of blood were already painted.

I caught him as he fell to his knees, painting his dark jeans in vomit and blood.

I tried to be careful of his face, not wanting to push the glass in further. Shit, he was dying.

I really wish Dr. Green was here...

I need to get help.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I needed to get help!

I managed to get Matthew on the bike in front of me...more like on my lap so my feet could reach the pegs...no one would ever know of this...

Just pretend he's Sang.

Just pretend he's Sang.

I started up the bike, hating my life as I had to keep an arm around Matthew to keep him from falling.

It was my turn to be the badass.

***

Owen Blackbourne's POV:

"Don't wake Miss Sorenson. She has been through enough this weekend," I said as I worked to put on my jacket. Dr. Green was already awake again, which bothered me some since he rarely slept now adays. "Someone please tend to Mr. Simba. He needs to be brushed and if we are not back by 9 PM, please make sure to put him to bed. He prefers the left side."

Mr. Coleman and Mr. Taylor SR. had taken Miss Sorenson up to bed a little while earlier, leaving the rest of us to scramble to find our missing team mate. Mates, I reminded myself.

Sang's Freedom (Original And Rewritten)Where stories live. Discover now