Font Size:
Crashes hard into the trees—
Metal tearing—
Sparks flying—
Then—
Silence.
We both stand there for a second.
Breathing hard.
Processing.
“That worked,” I say.
“Yeah.”
I turn to him—
And that’s when I see it.
He’s swaying.
Mila
Oh no.
“You’re bleeding,” I say.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not—”
“I’m—”
He stops.
Because even he can’t finish that sentence.
Blood is soaking through the bandage now.
More than before.
Too much.
“You need to sit down,” I say.
“We need to move.”
“You’re not moving like this.”
“We don’t have a choice.”
I step closer.
Grab his vest.
