John Reese's heart pounded in his head like a heavy bass drum. It echoed the throbbing in his stomach as the bullet wound began to break open. Discomfort didn't matter. His body could be littered with a thousand bullet holes and he's till find a way to crawl to his target. Anger was fueling him, feeding his bitter, beating heart. It wouldn't stop till Joss Carter's killer had been hunted down and slaughtered.
Pulling his gun out, Reese made his way down slowly into the road ditch. Below him lay the SUV he had rammed with a stolen dump truck. Already orange tongues of flame were beginning to lick the edges of the overturned wreck.
The low lifes inside the car were greedy punks who had sold dirty Officer Simmons a forged passport that would get him out of the country. They were now going to tell Reese all he wanted to hear. Whether they were alive or dead didn't really seem to matter.
Reese saw the crooks in the front seats were already probably dead. He turned his cold, steel glare to the man babbling in the back. Covered in blood and glass, he begged Reese for help.
Ignoring the pleas, Reese took Simmons' picture out of his suit coat pocket. He shoved in front of the punk's face.
"Where is he?" he bit out.
The minion was either too scared of the man in the photo or the mean, granite face glaring down at him. All he could do was keep blubbering and asking for help.
Reese stared at the crying mess with disgust and not an ounce of pity. The man was useless. Shaking his head, Reese knew he'd have to find another way to track down Simmons.
Walking way from the SUV, he tuned out the crying screams coming from the car wreck. His face was as cold and dark as an unmarked grave. Cold determined hatred fueled his anger, his lust for revenge. There was no compassion in his eyes, no sorrow. Only pure, burning hate.
As Reese reached the top of the road ditch, the SUV behind him finally burst into a fireball of flames. He could feel the heat on his back and shoulders, but he didn't stop to look. He had enough fire inside of him.
Reese stalked away, ignorant of his own pains. He saw one final path before him – the path that led to Simmons' grave. Once Reese had thrown the man inside of it, he didn't care what happened to him. He had no other choice. Revenge was his life's blood when all he could see was Joss Carter's dying face. She was his fuel, urging him on. He wouldn't stop. He would keep hunting for his prey until he burned out. He could only hope it wasn't before he gave Carter this one last gift to her memory.