Enchained (Enchained Trilogy book 1)

Chapter 20 Alone

My head begs for relief from the imaginary sledgehammers boring into it as my mind regains consciousness, and I open my eyes, blinking three times in an effort to focus them and clear the dust from them. Echoes from the attack above reach me, but I feel as though I am far away from it, as though a fog has enveloped me, shielding me from it. I wriggle my fingers and toes, satisfied that I can still move, despite the earthquake in my head. Twisting around, I realize that I have somehow gotten thrown back into the back and I am laying sprawled across it with my legs tangled up on the top of the seat near the rear window with my head near the footwell. Groaning from the pain in my skull, I maneuver myself, swinging my legs downward as I position myself right side up, taking a moment to pause as blood flows from my head to the rest of my body, and a tiny bit of dizziness wafts around me, dissipating in seconds, but the pain remains, making me wish the blood vessels would quit pulsating in my temple.

I place my arms on the seat in front of me and haul myself forward, crying out and falling backward as a crippling, stabbing pain seizes my left side. The fog surrounding my brain vanishes, allowing me to feel the full extent of my injuries. With shaking hands, I lift up my jacket and shirt, revealing a massive bruise, the size of two fists, and as I press my fingers against my ribs, I wince, taking in a sharp breath; my ribs are bruised at the very least, maybe even broken. Again, I place my hands on the top of the seat in front of me, forcing myself to ignore the pain like I have been conditioned to do, and haul myself over it and into the front next to the deceased driver. Taking a moment to steady my breathing, I spot the driver's sidearm and seize it, unstrapping its holster from around his waist and place it around mine, wincing as each movement reminds me of my unknown injuries. Though I know that I have the possibility of a cracked rib, there may still be other injuries as well: the silent, fatal kind.

Crunching brush alerts me to another's presence and I crouch behind the dashboard. A figure moves through the trees and underbrush, not bothering to practice any form of stealth, and as I peer closer, I spot the white skin and ragged clothing; the plebeian boy has been sent down to assist me. Before I have a chance to call out to him to be quiet, I sneeze, and the congestion in my sinuses clears for a moment, alerting me to another problem: gas. I glance in the side mirror and curse as I notice gasoline spurting from the tank, admonishing myself for not being aware of this earlier. One spark and we are both dead.

I turn the handle to the passenger door and push against it, but it refuses to budge and allow me to escape. The puddle of gasoline grows. I need to get out. I bring my feet up and kick at the passenger door, and continue kicking it, until it hangs open enough where I know I will fit, and crawl through it, clinging to it the moment I get out. The transport has landed just a few feet away from another drop off. I lean forward a little to glance downward at the tops of the trees and their wide, emerald fronds and the faint mist that envelops them, obscuring the bottom of the gorge and the soft roar below. Is there a river nearby? I try to envision the landscape around me and my place within it, but the pervasive smell of gasoline, jerks me back to my current predicament.

More crunching brush distracts me and I watch as the plebeian boy—Chase? Is that his name?—runs toward me. The fool! Does he not smell the gas? Easing my way around the door, while gripping it as tight as I can to avoid slipping on the loose, mushy soil, I inch my way to the front of the vehicle and onto more solid ground. I have no time to rest or be relieved that I have escaped what could have been my coffin, for the plebeian boy races for me unaware of the danger that awaits.

"Stop!" I shout at him, waving my arms, but he ignores me and continues, while the skirmish above us rages, unconcerned about our plight.

A single zap confirms my worst fear. Knowing I have no choice, I sprint away from the transport, catching the plebeian boy around the middle, doing my best to force him to turn around, but he stumbles, causing me to fall as well. Another spark lights up above the puddle of gas, igniting it. Before I have a chance to regain my balance, both the plebeian and I slide toward the drop off, propelled by the force of the explosion, and disappear over it, plunging to an unknown fate.