Die for You

Chapter 62

"Becky, Becky!" I yelled, checking her pulse quickly, looking for some sign of life, as my hand touched her neck her eyes opened and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Becky, we've got to fucking move," I said as her eyes stared at me unfocusedly. "We've got to get the fuck out of here, are you ok? Where do you hurt?"

"I'm fine," she groaned, "what happened? Did we crash?"

"No, we didn't crash, we're under attack Bec, we've got to get the hell out of this car before we're fucked; do you think you can move?"

"I think so," she said, raising her hand to her face and wiping away the blood. "Am I bleeding?"

"Yes, it looks like you've cut your forehead," I said, spotting the steady trickle of blood that was ebbing from the thin ugly gash as she wiped away the blood that had covered her face. "It's nothing too serious, we'll worry about that in a minute," I said reassuringly, already putting it out of my mind and starting to evaluate our options.

To the outsider, that would probably seem callous, but right now, a scratch like that wasn't our immediate problem, it wasn't exactly life threatening. No, our immediate problem was getting out of this train wreck and into something that resembled cover. Over the endless whirring in my ears, I could still hear the sound of gunfire, the bad guys hadn't just hit and run, they were sticking around to finish the job; and if we didn't get out of here, they'd probably succeed, trapped in here we were sitting fucking ducks.

I looked around me, trying to get an idea of our tactical situation. Putting it bluntly, we were fucked. The front of the vehicle was totally wrecked, the driver and the Aussie hanging awkwardly in their seats. I had no idea if they were alive or dead, and no time to check them; they were nothing at the moment but an inconvenience, blocking my way to the front windscreen. The obvious way of escape was to climb out of the right hand side doors, but there was no way I was doing that; it would be suicidal to climb onto what was now the top of the car, almost certainly into the path of flying bullets.

Pausing for a second, I made my decision, probably the only one I could; spinning around, I kicked out at the shattered back window of the truck, wincing and swearing as my battered legs thumped into the glass. Fortunately, three more swift, hard, pain filled blows and it was out, cluttering against the dusty surface.

"We're going out the back way," I told a now stirring Becky, thanking the gods for my insistence on a seatbelt and a helmet. "We're going to crawl to the edge, and then I'm going to cover you, ok?"

Becky nodded, her face understandably terrified. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to comfort her, didn't have the luxury of being able to put my arm around her shoulder and tell her to channel her fear the way I had all those months ago. This time, we were well and truly up shit creek, and we weren't just missing a paddle, we didn't even have a fucking canoe to sit in.

"Let's get a fucking move on then, soldier," I said forcing a smile I didn't feel onto my face, feeling a little bit happier as she nodded and began to crawl towards the back, her motor functions seemingly unimpaired by the crash.

Carefully, I twisted around in the back and used the limited space to slip a magazine into the MP7, cocking it and making Becky jump at the sharp noise. With a deep breath, I pulled down the foregrip and slowly crawled past her to the back window; peering out, looking for danger and our next move, spotting an obvious escape route in an instant.

"As soon as I tell you to, I want you to get out and run into that alley. You get to the far end and if it's safe, then you get your head down and wait for me, Becky," I said pointing, "do you understand that?"