Dreams

Part 9

   We all want Coby to live, right? There is two ways we could do this. I could kill him, or let him live. Obviously, I hold the power. My choice, right? Anyway, let's get it over with. You know what? We haven't heard from Cory recently have we? Let's just hope he's alive too.

Pov: Cody
   My heart slowed as I looked into the hole.
   "Oh my G..." I gasped. My face was probably turning a pale color.
    Coby was a fighter, he couldn't die. Neither did he deserve it. It wasn't like Chad had checked his pulse or anything.
   I glanced at the others. The rest of them peeked over the edge, and I watched their horrified expressions.  Tim took a sharp breathe. Tyler's pupils widened while Will mumbled something to himself.
   I looked into the old well again. Chad hadn't gotten up. He just sat their, cross-legged, swiping leaves off of Coby. I wondered if he had hurt his leg from the fall.
   "Do we have a rope?" Tyler demanded, taking charge of the scene like usual.
   Tim shook his head. "We barely brought anything with us," he said quietly.
   "Ok." Tyler took a deep breathe, glancing down at Chad and Cody. He ran his hand through his hair, a tell-tale sign that he was thinking.
   "Call the ambulance," he directed Tim.
   Tim pulled out his phone, then paused. "They won't be able to get back here. We'll need to get Coby and Chad out ourselves or wait a couple more hours. It'll be dark by then and harder to find us," Tim pointed out.
   Tyler nodded slowly. "Ok..." He glanced into the well again. "Let's get them out first then figure we'll it out."
   We nodded in agreement.
   "How are we going to get them out?" Will asked the question we were all thinking.
    I turned looked down at Chad. "What about your truck?" I asked him.
   Chad's eyes widened. "I should have something we can use," he suggested excitedly, still not moving from his position beside Coby.
   "Go look," Tyler ordered.
   Will turned to go. "Hold on," Tim said abruptly. "I'll go with you."
   Will nodded. "Safety in numbers," he stated before walking in a small circle.
   "Which way did we come from?" He inquired, sliding a hand through his thick hair.
   Tyler turned slowly. "Anyone?"
   I pointed towards the setting sun. "West," I informed them.
   Nobody questioned me so Will and Tim left to see what they could find.
   "You doing alright down there, Chad?" Tyler asked, concern coated his words. We were both equally worried. What if Coby was actually dead? What would we do without him? Or where was Cory? My mind wandered.
   Chad assured us that he was fine even though he was visibly shaking. He hadn't moved either.
   "How's your leg?" I asked. I didn't look into the hole. I was scared of seeing Coby's limp body. Seeing his unconscious body would make reality set in: that we might never have another conversation with him. I thought maybe if I worried about Chad, that reality would almost seem unreal. Fake.
   I didn't hear Chad's answer.  I was trapped in my head. Thoughts swirled uncontrollably through my numb mind. He's dead. Let it go  my mind chanted. Which was worse-- reality or my thoughts? I didn't know.
   I was getting a headache. My eyes refocused on what was in front of me: an open hole in the ground, lined with solid stone bricks. I didn't look into it's negative depths. I couldn't.
   Thrashing sounded behind us, and Tim rushed into the clearing. "We found those straps that are supposed to hold stuff down in a truck bed!" He exclaimed, leaning onto his knees to catch his breathe.
   "Ratchet straps?" I asked, slightly confused.
   Tim shrugged, his eyes sparkling with hope. "I don't know. I'm not a truck guy."
   Will jogged into the clearing holding a pair of ratchet straps.
   "Here!" Will rushed towards Tyler, handing him the straps.
   Tyler unraveled them. "Hold this," he instructed me. I held the metal part while he tossed the other end into the old well.
   "How's this going to work?" Tim asked, surveying the scene.
   Tyler stroked his beard. "We can make this work."
   Then he shouted into the well. "Chad, harness Coby," he instructed.
   Chad slowly looped the strap under  Coby's arms.  His fingers were shaking badly which made it harder.
   Finally, he yelled up to Ty. "Ok. It should hold."
   "You better be right, Chad. If it comes loose, it'll be your fault," Ty warned.
   Chad raised Coby's body into his lap. Ty drew the ratchet strap taut.
   "Ready?" He asked.
   "Go ahead. I'll help guide him up until I can't reach," Chad replied.
   Will stood off to the side while I helped to pull Coby up. Tim peered into the hole so he could warn us if the harness was coming loose.
   Inch by inch, foot by foot, we got Coby within reaching distance.  Tim and I grabbed him and pulled him up once we could grasp him. We laid him flat on the ground. Tyler cupped his hand around his wrist. His hand and forehead were covered in dried blood.
   We waited in silence before Tyler announced the good news. "He's alive." Then the bad news. "He needs a doctor. His pulse is horrible. I don't know what to do to help. Let's get Chad out then head to the hospital," Tyler stressed.
   He hastily lowered the make-shift harness down to Chad. After Chad  was up, we started back. Me and Tim shouldered Chad while Will and Ty carried Coby.
   "We could use Cory right now," Tim commented.
   That sickening feeling got stronger. We needed both twins. Even if Coby was surviving now, without Cory he would surely fall into depression and starve himself until death.
   The sun was completely gone when we arrived at the truck. Coby had begun slipping from unconsciousness  for most of the hike back. He still couldn't comprehend things or even move, but he had started to moan.
   We hoisted him into the backseat. Tim and Will climbed in next to him. Tyler took driver's seat.
   "How far is the hospital?" Will asked, leaning forward. We pulled out of the parking lot, and traveled on a dirt road.
   "Twenty-five minutes, but I can make it there in fifteen." He gritted his teeth as we hit a bump.
   Chad yelped as he hit his leg on the door.
   The speed limit was fifteen, but Tyler was going almost fifty-five. Nobody was complaining, though. Nobody even talking.
   We were mere seconds from the parking lot, with one red light between us when a phone started to ring.
   Tyler pulled Coby's phone from his own pocket. He gave us a weird glance before answering.
   "Hello?" He asked, putting it on speaker. The light still hadn't changed. I swear we were here at least five minutes.
   "Hey," a scratchy, yet familiar voice filled the truck.
   "Cory!" We yelled.