Lie Like a Villain

Chapter 18 || A Gamble with Death

The train wasn't going fast, barely at all really, but it was picking up quick. Heart in her throat, Rachel climbed down from her perch on the crate to the narrow ledge below. Jason doubled his pace, arms pumping, injury thrown to the wind. Cutting across the ground diagonally, he'd almost made it to the opening. The train couldn't be going very fast—kiddie kart speeds, maybe five or ten miles an hour.

On foot, that was just fast enough to get left in the dust.

Wrapping her arm around the inside of the opening, Rachel leaned out as far as she could, hand outstretched. "Come on!"

He ran a few more steps, body thrown forward, then reached for her hand. Their fingertips brushed, but Jason's grasp slipped through hers. Right beside him, the massive wheels ate rocks and churned dust.

We don't have to do this. The sudden realization sliced through Rachel. I could jump off right now, and we could find another train. He's going to get himself killed.

But the wild part of her wanted to see if he could make it, to see how far he would go, how far they could get. Her arm stretched out further.

Sweat beading his brow, Jason gritted his teeth. He surged forward, and this time when his hand reached out, their grips clasped tight. Rachel jerked. Using the train's momentum, she swung Jason onto the ledge with her.

She leaned back as far as the crates would allow, waiting for her arm to stop aching and her heart to stop beating against her skin. The lights and shadows of the city flashed over them. When she finally straightened, she found Jason with his head and arms laying on top of a crate, still catching his breath.

Rachel climbed onto the double-stacked cargo. "Hope you don't plan to hang out on the ledge all night."

Jason raised his head just enough to look at her. Pain glazed his eyes, but he slipped on a small, tired smile. "Hey, you never know," he called breathlessly, words almost snatched away by the rushing wind. "Might be the place to be. It's got good air conditioning."

"If you wanna freeze to death." She rolled her eyes, offering him a hand up.

Together, they crawled toward the front of the car, out of the way of both the opening and the wind. Backs to the wall, they settled as comfortably as possible against hard wood and metal. It was dark enough that she could barely make out his face, but she didn't need to see to hear his labored breathing.

"Let me look at your arm."

He waved it away, but his voice was still choked for air. "I'm fine."

"I believe that's the same thing you said when you still had the bullet in you." She turned on her phone, and the display dispelled some of the dark. "Now, I know this might be impossible, but tamp down on the bravado and let me have a look."

He stiffened but didn't otherwise protest as she crawled around to his other side. She tried to keep her expression neutral as pulled up his sleeve. The bandage was wet and stained red. He must have pulled a couple of stitches.

Gingerly, she plied off the gauze to check. Sure enough, he'd split it open, right near the middle. Blood oozed through the hole.

"Everything okay?" Jason asked between clenched teeth.

"Peachy," she answered back. As peachy as it could be, at least. There was nothing they could do tonight, and it wasn't like he was going to bleed out. She shifted the bandage to where a dry spot was over the broken stitches and wrapped him back up. No, what they really had to watch for was infection. If that set in, there wasn't much she could do. And in the meantime, there wasn't much she could do to protect him from it. Keep it clean, that was all. Easier said than done with no supplies.