The Breaking Point

Chapter 17

"Fideo!"

The boys wound themselves through the maze of cars and pushed through the crowd that had gathered to inspect the damage.

The truck's door opened and a middle-aged man scrambled out. He hopped off the top of his vehicle and stared in horror at the scene before him. A huge pool of blood circled the pale arm sticking out of the truck.

He turned on his heel and bolted, but before he could get farther than a foot, a strong hand grabbed the back of his shirt. The man whirled around to face his capturer, fear scribbled all over his face.

"Not so fast," Teres growled, slamming the man against his truck. He let go of his shirt and quickly re-caught the man by his collar. "Where'd you get your license, huh? It's a crime to drive like that! Don't even think about escaping. You're going to stay in jail until I graduate! " Teres screamed.

"Teres, stop. This isn't what we need." Erik's voice was low, almost pained and it made Teres suddenly calmer.

"He's right. Go call an ambulance," Bobby ordered. "Me and Dylan will hold him."

Teres waited for the two to take his place before walking off to make his call. Bobby called out the Japanese emergency number just as the greenette left.

"I'll call too," Edgar added, typing in the number. "To increase our chances." The moment his call was answered, he walked off too- in the opposite direction.

Mark Evans bent down beside the arm and placed his middle and index fingers gently on its wrist. Nothing. He tightened his grip. Still nothing. This was starting to scare him. Thankfully, this time, he wasn't alone. "I-I can't feel his pulse!"

"Let me try."

Mark moved aside to give Hector enough space and watched anxiously as the other goalie gently repeated the procedure, several times but in different places.

"Can you feel anything?" Mark Kruger asked.

Hector sighed softly. "I don't know if the ambulance is going to make it in time. I can feel it but it's really slow."

"I'm back!" Teres shouted. "They said they'll be here in a couple minutes."

Hector frowned. "I don't think we can wait that long," and he told him about Fideo's pulse. But there was nothing they could do except wait-and hope that the ambulance would actually hurry.

Three minutes later, Edgar joined them, shaking his head sadly.

"They said half an hour at least."

"What? Mine said a couple minutes."

Edgar looked down and narrowed his eyes. "Did you mention that the truck was on top of him?"

"No, why?"

"That's it, then. They said they have to inform the towing company to come and get the truck off of him."

"He's not going to hold out for that long," Hector complained. "There's gotta be another way."

They all looked away, unable to contain their grief. None of them had any ideas. They were going to lose him. There was no doubt about it. 

Unless....................unless they could replace the tow truck.

"Wait! What if we don't have to use a tow truck?" The others stared up at Mark Evans, allowing a spark of hope to light their hearts. "We can pick it up!" The stares turned somewhat skeptical.