Interaction [Dreamnotfound]

15 | Hurt

MC Manhunt chapter coming out today on my other book

yesimselfpromotinglemmealone

-Cas

Zak couldn't breathe.

His boyfriend, best friend, only person he had in this world, had been shot.

By the fucking government. The very people Darryl used to work for.

Darryl's eyes seemed so dull. As Zak watched, he slid off his knees, slumping on the ground. His arms dropped to the floor, and his head drooped.

Zak dropped down beside him. He didn't know what to do... what was he supposed to do?

"Darryl? Darryl, talk to me," Zak cried, taking his boyfriend's face in his hand and looking into his eyes. Darryl squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them.

"Look at my band, Zak..."

That was right, Darryl still had his band. Because he had worked for the government, and experimented on his band, the tracking technology had already been removed before they came in contact with the forest Upturns.

Zak grabbed Darryl's wrist, then gasped in apology as he winced. Carefully, he rotated Darryl's wrist until he could see the face of the band.

Injury detected.

Zak stared, and then tapped the band with his free hand. The screen displayed a new message.

Elevate and apply bandage.

The message repeated itself, pulsing with a white light, until Zak snapped into action. A bandage...

The officer's shirt, maybe?

Zak turned to the officer, who was still unconscious, and grabbed his shirt. Wincing slightly, he yanked the fabric until it tore. A neat white piece of fabric came off in his hand. Panting slightly, Zak turned back to Darryl.

~tw blood...? (you can skip to the "tw over" ahead)~

"Give me your wrist, ok? It's going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine," Zak reassured Darryl, taking his wrist as Darryl offered him it and lifting it carefully. Darryl winced slightly, and Zak frowned. The wound didn't seem to bad - the bullet had grazed the edge of Darryl's wrist. It had gone pretty deep, though, and was still gushing blood, even through Zak's attempts to stench the flow with the cloth.

"Fuck-"

"Language", Darryl muttered, dazed, and Zak almost smiled.

But it wasn't long before the scrap of cloth was soaked through with the thin, red blood. Zak turned back to the guard's shirt, ripping off a larger portion this time before attempting again to wrap Darryl's wrist.

He managed to stench the flow a bit, wrapping the shirt piece tightly around Darryl's wrist and securing it with an elastic band he wore around his wrist. Just one of the many things he carried in case of need.

The wound seemed to have stopped bleeding as much, and Zak made sure not to cover Darryl's band with the cloth. He tapped the band gently and it displayed the message "Elevate."

Zak frowned, lifting Darryl's wrist gently and resting it on his arm. The band flashed.

Bleeding detected. Apply direct pressure.

Zak took a deep breath, and then gently pressed on Darryl's wrist. Darryl gasped in pain, and Zak winced again. It hurt him to see Darryl hurting, but he knew it was for the best.

A few minutes passed, and Darryl's device vibrated.

~tw over~
Treatment applied. Rest required.

Zak took his hand off Darryl's wrist, sighing gratefully. It was ok. Darryl was going to be ok.

Darryl smiled shakily, fighting to keep his eyes open. Zak thought for a second, and then made his decision.

"We can't stay here, Darryl, so if you get in the Sleekmobile, I can drive it manually," he suggested. Darryl nodded without complaint.

Zak let Darryl rest his arm on his, and helped him up. Slowly, Darryl eased himself into the car, taking care not to injure his wrist further.

Zak got in after, shutting the mobile's door after a moment of hesitation. He didn't want to just leave the officer lying on the ground, but he didn't really have a choice.

Darryl's eyes were already closing, limp in his seat. Zak took a deep breath. He had only ever driven a S-mob once, and he hadn't exactly... succeeded. In fact, the S-mob had been wrecked. He was probably lucky to be alive.

Forcing that thought out of his head, Zak reached for the controller and pressed the power button.

Identification required.

Zak cursed under his breath. Identification? How was he meant to get that?
Unless...

Zak opened the S-mob door once more, dropping to the ground beside the fallen guard. Carefully, he searched the shirt pockets. Nothing, and...

Perfect. An Identification card. Zak grabbed it, hopping back into the S-mob, and tapped the controller again, scanning the id card.

The machine beeped.

Welcome, Floris.

Floris? What a strange name. Zak shook his head, grabbing the manual controller, which was a type of stick imbedded in the mobile, and pushed.

The vehicle rocketed forwards.

Zak yanked back, and the S-mob stopped abruptly. He took a deep breath, and then hesitantly pushed the controller forwards once more.

The S-mob moved forwards, at a more controlled pace this time, and Zak steadied himself. He pushed slightly to the right, and the mobile responded, taking a sharp turn down a wide road.

Now, where to go? Zak didn't know anyone here, at least not anyone they could trust. It would probably be smarter to just continue on, get out of the town before they were detected, and head away.

So that's what Zak did.

------------------------------------

The world was blurry.

Floris closed his eyes, opened them, shook his head. Slowly, his vision cleared.

He was on the ground, outside his main office. His head started to pound with a splitting pain.

Floris groaned, and then ran his fingers over his head, wincing as they made contact.

A flash of panic ran through him. He searched his own pockets.

Goddam it. His ID card was gone.

And his crystal too, by the looks of it. Not to mention, his shirt was completely torn up. Those idiot trespassers had broken the law. Probably more than once.

Floris pulled himself up, groaning at the pain that resounded through his body, and looked around. The S-mob was gone, no surprise, and his gun lay on the ground a few feet away.

Floris crossed the ground swiftly, despite his pounding headache, and grabbed the gun. There were no bullets in it. Useless.

So the robbers were gone, with no way to track them. Well, it figures, the way his luck had been going for the past few days.

Floris turned and began to make his way back to his office. This would have to be reported.

This problem never should have happened.

Perhaps he could code something to fix it.