If It Made Sense, It Wouldn't Be a Mystery, Would It?

Chapter 15

POV: JUSTIN

We drive on in silence. The highway is practically deserted now. For a while I rub Brian's shoulders to keep him awake, but pretty soon I find myself getting drowsy.

"Do you mind if I sleep a little while?"

"Only if you give me your nut roll."

"I ate that an hour ago," I admit, sheepishly.

He looks at me quizzically in the rear mirror. "You ate your own nut roll?" He winks. "Now that's a neat trick. I'm surprised you ever leave the house…"

I roll my eyes, smiling. "I ate the Baby Ruth that I bought at the store." I clarify needlessly.

He sighs. "Fucker." Then he gets a glint in his eye. "Can I have yours then?"

I laugh a little. "Brian. Jesus." I hesitate. "Later," I grin. Searching my pockets, I find something. "Wanna piece of gum?"

"Yeah. Thanks." He says, resigned. He reaches back his open palm. I hand him a stick and then lean back, relaxing against the backseat.

"Is your fucking seatbelt on?" Brian asks suddenly.

"Yes, mother."

He nods. "Fucker." He repeats.

I close my eyes. God, I'm so tired. I vaguely realize that the overhead light is still on. I start to say something, but fuck it. But I'm just too tired to bother.

I've started to doze lightly when I suddenly feel the car swerve hard, "Jesus!!" Brian yells.

My eyes fly open and I see us veering onto the shoulder of the highway- then everything seems to happen in slow motion- "Brian!!!!" The screech of brakes as Brian stomps on the pedal. A sudden crash from the driver's side; violently pushing us to the right. The pull of the seatbelt as it catches and holds me against the seat. Careening sideways, lurching towards the concrete wall at the edge of the road. Smashing into the wall with a jolt. The squeal of tires peeling out on the road.

From some other car.

Because suddenly we're just there. It's silent except for the fading sound of the other car and the vague hiss of the dead engine. It's completely still, the front of the car on the passenger side crumpled against the cement wall, the one still-lit driver's side headlight illuminating plumes of smoke and steam that billow from beneath the hood. The air bags slowly deflate. Immediately I look over to Brian. I'm shaking.

"Bri... Brian...?" I whisper. I look down at myself- I feel okay. Physically, I mean. I quickly unbuckle my seat belt and lean over the front seat. "Brian??" He's rubbing his left arm. The door on his side is pushed inward and I can see that the impact was hard enough that it had hit him in the side. Hard.

He looks at me with wide eyes. "Justin, are you alright?" He immediately reaches around for me with his right hand and touches my face, rubs his fingers through my hair, his eyes filled with fear and concern, flicking over me for any sign of injury. "Justin?" His voice more insistent, scared. Blood is coursing down his cheek from a wound on his head.

"I'm okay." I stammer. "Are you? Are you okay?" Jesus, the door is really smashed in.

He's trembling. I'm trembling. "Fuck. Jesus." He says. "Hunter!" I glance over and Hunter is out cold; the window on his side of the car has a spider web-like pattern from the impact of his head. And there's a smear of blood. "Jesus Christ!"

"Should you shake him, try to wake him?"

"No- he may have a spinal injury or something. FUCK!" Brian suddenly looks a little woozy. "Call…." He doesn't finish; he just brings his right hand up to his head, rubbing his temple. There's a huge gash there. Oh, my God. He looks down at his hand, covered in blood. "Christ…"

Then I see his leg. Jesus Christ, his leg. "Brian…" I gasp. "Your leg! Brian! Your leg!"

He looks down. There's a huge chunk of sharp plastic from the door lodged in his thigh. Blood is spreading at an alarming rate from the wound, darkening the denim of his jeans. He looks at it like he's not quite sure what he's seeing, like it's not his leg. God, there's just so much blood! I'm shaking. "Oh, my God." He seems to swoon a little.

I reach a quivering hand into his jacket pocket and grab the cell. Brian looks like he's going to pass out. I dial 911 in a panic. There's so much blood. Jesus. My God, he's going to fucking bleed to death! "Brian, don't close your eyes! Brian!! BRIAN! Stay with me! BRIAN!!!!"

Oh God, oh God, oh God.

"911 emergency, what is your emergency?"

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