Scorched

Chapter 7

I'm startled awake when the truck goes over a large bump, rocking the bodies inside. Ronin lays strewed beside me, still unconscious.

I groan slightly and rub my eyes, trying to force them to work. I guess I fell asleep after cleaning up his wound.

"How is he?" The deep voice driving truck asks.

I glance over at Ronin. I had to remove the top of his janitors uniform to get to the wound and his chest is covered in drying blood.

"We need to get a medical kit. Soon." I inform the shadow as I begin removing the makeshift patch that's now stained red.

The man driving doesn't say anything but the silence is tense enough to feel.

In order to distract myself I fashion a new patch on Ronin's wound out of what tissues I have and duct tape.
This is not going to work for much longer.

"We really need to stop," I can't keep the worry out of my voice.

I can't have someone dying on my watch.

"We'll stop in 15 minutes." Despite the gruffness of his voice his couldn't keep out a note of fear.

This was the longest 15 minutes in my life. In that time I could do nothing but worry. I tried to think of a problem to chew on in order to distract myself, which wasn't hard to do, but all I could find was more questions.

After going over another large bump the weight of the stupid weapon against my neck shifts uncomfortably and inspiration strikes. I poke my finger at Ronin's shoulder a few times and he remains motionless. I glance swiftly in the silhouette's direction to ensure that his eyes are glued to the road ahead. As subtley as I can I reach over to his pockets and search them until I find...

Aha. The button.

Quickly I stash it away in my own pocket and silently enjoy a small rush of power. I'm pulled out of my daze when we finally we pull over next to yet another motel.

"Stay in the truck. I'll be back with a room and medi kit soon." The silhouette orders me.

"Woah, I'm not letting you go in alone." I reply cuttingly.

I haven't come this far without learning anything.

I hear what I think is the echo of a laugh, more of an amused grunt. Then he gets out of his seat and turns to my door, opening it from the outside. The first thing that I notice is that he's tall, taller than Ronin. And built like a brick wall. As he approaches, his face is thrown into the light of a nearby street lamp. It reveals a broad face with a heavy jaw covered in dark skin. His dark eyes hold a deceptively natural grim expression and he looks at me for just a moment before cracking into a wry smile.

"I'm James." He reveals in a deep but friendly voice.

After all he's done I really shouldn't be surprised.

"Fine then."
I suppose I'll trust him.

"I'll be right back." James replies reassuringly.

Instead of watching him walk away I turn my attention back to Ronin. I have control of the bomb now but James is still dangerous and I'm not sure how happy he'd be if I let his friend die. In order to get him to the room he's going to have to be awake.

"Ronin," I call his name softly to try and wake him.

No response.

"Ronin," I try a little louder.

Still nothing.

I groan into my hand pressed upon my face. I really need you awake right now.

In my frustration and impatience I abandon usual methods and slap his face with all the unfiltered force built up in my veins.