Untitled chapter
“Cash!” I turn to see if he heard me, but he doesn’t respond. He’s slumped in the back seat, bloody, the seatbelt the only thing holding him in place. My shoulder aches and I can feel my own blood slide down my armpit. I hold tight to the steering wheel and urge the crappy Camaro faster. The blown out back window brings the sounds of the outside in, but does little for the smell.
“Cash! Open your eyes man. Just open your eyes, please.” Nothing.
I reach a stop sign and blow through it. Luckily it’s late. Just a couple more miles. I floor it.
We come to a red light. I flash my brights, pound on the broken horn and fly through the intersection. A car stops just in time and we narrowly avoid colliding.
“Cash, buddy. Cash, look at me. I’m so fucking sorry man.” He coughs weakly. A driver pulls into my lane and slows to make a turn, I swerve around the car at the last second. I hear the screech of brakes as I narrowly avoid clipping another car. A hand juts out the open window with middle finger extended as we race past. Yeah, fuck you too.
Finally a road sign with a blue “H” and an arrow to the right. So close, but I take the turn too fast and the car fish tails. The left rear tire slams into the curb and hops on the median. After the side of the car smacks a road sign I manage to right it and keep going. The tire didn’t blow, but the car is pulling hard to the left and is almost impossible to keep straight. As we get to the top of a small hill the hospital becomes visible, the only light on this dark stretch of mountain road.
I keep the pedal floored and fly into the parking lot, gravel spitting on the parked cars. The ER sign just a couple hundred yards away. I pull up to the entrance and slam on my brakes. I open my door and tumble out.
I look up at the sound of the automatic doors of the ER opening, but no one is coming. A man stands behind the front desk, cranes his neck to see.
I yell: “Help! I need some fucking help!”
I get Cash’s door open and work on the seat belt that’s jammed under him. His clothes are squishy and wet with blood.
“Come on Cash, almost there man. Just hold on.” At last I unfasten his seatbelt and get him out of the car. I grab him under both shoulders and pull his unconscious body towards the entrance. It’s like dragging a dead deer.
I get him halfway across the sidewalk and slip. I’m able to get my body under his before we hit the ground, cushioning his fall. A half dozen nurses and other hospital employees rush to us. Two of them push a stretcher on wheels. Cash’s weight is lifted off me and they put him on the bed and place an oxygen mask on his face. They yell things back and forth and I get up and follow them through the doors, trying to keep up. Before I make it to the next set of doors a nurse notices my bloody arm and pulls me to the side and looks for the source. I try to yank myself free. “I need to go with him. I need to be with him.”
She grabs my good arm firmly, holding me in place. “He’s in good hands. Right now we need to take care of you.”
The last thing I see as the doors close is Cash’s bloody arm slip off the side of the bed.
I drove as fast as I could, but I don’t think it was fast enough.
