(I don't know if trikey is still relevant lol but heck, I love them. This is my first fanfic since November last year, I've been super busy n stuff. I have alot of ideas. Please give constructive criticism, I'm not the best when it comes to writing! :) )

Trevor's firm and steady arm rose, awaiting for the elk to make movement . "Atcha' boy, there ya' go." He muttered to himself. The tip of his finger slowly pulling down on the trigger, being as accurate and as hidden as he could. "And..." Before T could make any shot, his companion, Michael, stepped on a branch, spooking the other man and causing the herd to spree.

"A-AH FUCK!" Trevor's eyes dwelled with pain, as the other only looked at him in confusion.

"Oh shit!" Michael yelled in response, eyes widening and knuckles cracking. The bullet had gone through Trevor's thigh, a trail of blood following parts of bone sticking out. The scope is thrown to the ground, as Michael wraps his hands around Trevor and lifts him up.

"I don't know how long I can keep this up f-for, where's the nearest hospital?!"

"Around... 30... minutes away." Trevor replies, grasping onto Michael's shoulders.

"30 MINUTES?!"

"Yeah, 30 minutes you FAT, useless fuck!" Trevor's voice trembles as he bites his lips, pressing his forehead against Mike's arm. M observes the area, taking another glance at the man in his arms. "I might DIE from blood loss if you keep at this pace of yours." Mike was only caught off-guard by the sudden sound of a car turning into the store over the road from the two. The car seemed damaged, there was at least a flat tire and a smashed window, the engine also seemed to be crumbled. M rushed through the oncoming traffic over to the vehicle. "What the fuck are you doing? Jack a car you dumb shit."

"Oh yeah! Great idea! I mean, it's not like we're on the run from Madrazo or anything, it's not like you kidnapped his wife!" Trevor only looks at the man in abhorrence.

"I don't give a SHIT. We're in Sandy Shores. Get us a functional car, before I rip that fat face of yours off."

"I'm not taking any risks, you've gotten us into enough trouble. This car will have to do." Michael releases one hand from Trevor, leaving the other under his leg, which seems to be blood-soaked now. He opens the back of the car door, violently throwing (almost flipping) Trevor into the worn seats. "AUGH, AH, OW- ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?!" His shrieks could be heard from quite some distance, alarming customers inside the shop. Michael climbs into the front seat, inspecting the floor for the keys. "Fuck, I can't find them."

"That's ok, by the time you even get going, I'll be long gone!" T replies in a smug, sarcastic tone.

..."DUDE, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN MY CAR?!" Both men are startled by the sudden yelling, but not surprised. "Shit, shit, shit. T, I can't find the keys!"

The stranger spurts and approaches the two. Trevor peeks over his shoulder, paying attention to the shining light glaring beneath Michael's ass. "Fucking classic Townley. You're sitting on them." M reaches under and pulls them out. "Fuckin' A." Michael steps foot, the vehicle now reversing and speeding off. "I think... that's one of those bikers."

"The Lost MC." Trevor scoffs, pulling out his pistol. "We're low on ammo." T pulls his gun to the shattered glass, taking shots. "Stop shooting!" M yells, driving recklessly through the woods.

"I think we lost th-" . . . Of course, it was only a matter of time before everything seemed lost. It all went wrong.

A bright light can only been seen, clouds of blur, smoke and fire shooting across the car. Trevor struggles to move, sounds helplessly trying to escape his lips. The vehicle, now on its side, flames up. The steel door next to Trevor is ragged off, and the man himself is dragged out, traces of blood everywhere...

(to be continued :0, sorry if this was too short!)