October 29, 2012
The first part of this serial adventure was posted 9/17/12
“Go Blake! Go!” The tallest one, riding shotgun, shouted.
The curly headed man next to him, who had been forced to ride bitch after Jack had hurled his bullet ridden form into the back of the station wagon, yelled, “Yeah, hurry man, before any of those pigs have a chance to catch your license plate number.”
Despite the pain of his three bullet wounds, Jack struggled to take in his potential rescuers. He quickly realized that these four weren’t men at all. These guys were most likely still high school students that probably couldn’t buy a pack of smokes legally yet.
“Turn up here, take a left.” The teen sitting on the other side of mop head said—his voice calmer than his fellows.
Somehow these kids appeared to have eluded the police, mostly because the majority of them had raced after him on foot. Sirens roared behind them, but the sounds grew fainter as the driver took manic lefts and rights through the alleys and small streets.
Jack held his breath for another minute, but when it appeared that they had made it clear of their pursuers, he said, rather loudly, “Alright, who the hell are you guys and why did you rescue me?”
The taller one, who rode shotgun, turned around to face him. “I’m Alex.” Alex appeared to be attempting to grow in a goatee, but Jack figured the guy should try to wait a few more years, because the random stumble under his chin didn’t really cut it. “The driver here is Blake.” Jack couldn’t see much more than a blonde bush of feathered back hair that might have looked more appropriate on the head of some seventies rocker.
The guy next to him spoke up, bobbing his head while he talked. “I’m Rich and this is John.” Rich had a slightly rounded face under his uncontrolled curls, while John appeared to be the cleanest cut of the lot, which wasn’t really saying much. They all wore winter jackets that had seen better days and also tended to stare at Jack in a manner he found unnerving.
“Great,” he winced, trying to move his body into a more comfortable position and quickly finding out that his wounds made such an act impossible. “Now I know who you are, but why did you rescue me. Do you guys just hate cops or something?”
Alex spoke again. “Well, we aren’t big fans of the boys in blue, but we rescued you because…”
“Ah…you probably won’t believe this.”
“There isn’t a lot I don’t believe in these days.” Jack mumbled, while trying to bind his shoulder wound.
“I had a vision you would be here and that you’d need our help.”
Jack stared. His well of KI remained dry so he would have to wait until morning to see if he could mystically determine more about these guys. “So how are you going to help me? I can’t go to the hospital. Can I lay low at one of your places?”
The teens exchanged nervous glances, but it was Alex who spoke again. “I think that might be problematic, with our parents, but we do have a place where we party in the woods.”
“In the woods. What kind of place? It must be twenty below out there.”
“Don’t worry we have an awesome wood stove,” Rick was saying. “We’ll help you get it going and we have plenty of firewood.”
Jack groaned and muttered “Alright, take me there. We can hammer out these other things in the morning if I last that long.”
To be continued next Monday…