Mitch's POV
A light breeze caused by a passing truck ruffled the bushes, scattering loose leaves and allowing flashes of color from my clothes to be seen momentarily. I waited with baited breath for them to settle again, and slowly slid a hand through the foliage. Just enough to make about an inch-wide gap, and nothing more.
I could see the county police department from my position, crouched in a group of bushes running along the side of a highway. Every once in a while a stray vehicle would pass by, but not the one I needed.
It had pulled into the station's parking lot about 45 minutes ago and gone around the back of the building. I had scoped the area well, however, and knew the only exit for it was to come out the way it had entered and take the highway. I was positioned directly across from the lot, so I would be prepared for it to go either direction.
Said truck suddenly maneuvered around the corner, morning light bouncing off its thick sides. It rumbled up the exit, pausing momentarily at the stop but turning its tires towards the left. I took off, crawling through the cover of the bushes down the highway. The truck pulled out and began traveling towards me just as I reached the uneven patch of leaves. I swept them aside carelessly, wrapping fingers around the two compact pieces of equipment hidden there.
The truck roared closer, close enough that I could make out the features of the drivers face. His face was slack and bored, another day of routine in an endless lifestyle of construction and deconstruction.
I scraped the two objects together roughly, rubbing the ripped off sides from matchboxes together and catching the sparks on the end of one. It caught and hissed for a second before I threw it into the road.
The truck passed over it the instant I threw it down, and immediately the cab was engulfed in a massive explosion of fire. The truck screeched to a stop and I raced out from my spot, darting around to the back of the truck as I yanked my gun free from my waistband. I made quick work of the lock, shooting it with three bullets before it finally came unlocked. The door burst open seconds later, two coughing men spilling from the back and falling to the pavement. The flames had begun reaching the back of the truck, and these two had apparently decided their own lives were worth more. I shot one in the ankle, and the other in the knee. Neither got up, and I shot out their radios as well. Take no chances.
When no one else appeared from inside the truck, which had rapidly vanished behind the smoke billowing out, I swore and climbed in. The metal was floors were burning hot and scalded my hands, but I clambered to my feet and reached blindly through the smoke. My lungs begged for air as I held my breath, and my eyes remained resolutely shut as I grasped at nothing.
Then my fingers brushed against something soft, and I yanked it from the truck without a second thought. We both fell to the pavement and I threw in the second object, slamming the door behind it. More flames rose, engulfing the truck completely and hopefully erasing any and all evidence.
The whole thing had taken about 1 minute, tops.
The palms on my hands were bright red and stung like hell. but were nothing compared to him.
Adam, well, the body of Adam, was slumped onto the road. His eyes were closed and his chest barely moved, tiny gasps of air that couldn't have been doing anything being sucked in and pushed out. His face was smeared with ashes and was probably burnt under the black mess, considering the hair on the left side of his head was singed.
Patches of his clothes were burnt away, his skin in those ares ranging anywhere from bright red with blisters to yellow and white in other areas, except for one sickening patch of skin on his arm where it was small bits of it were blackened and charred between blisters.
I swallowed heavily and pulled him over my back, shouldering him away from the flaming vehicle. I pushed back through the foliage and and disappeared behind the bushes, where a small car was waiting.
I deposited him in the back seat, mindful of his injuries as I arranged his limbs. His chest still didn't seem to be moving enough, but his lips hadn't turned blue yet , so I got in front and drove away.
