"Jut hang on a little longer, Tyler. If that ass-wipe was right, then there should be a med clinic another few miles up the interstate. We're almost there, buddy, just stay with me..." I urged, choking back the tears in my voice, listening to my close friend's ragged breathing as he lay sprawled out in the backseat of an older model Ford pick-up truck we found two days ago with a worn blood-stained t-shirt to his abdomen.
My conscience was still numb from the memory of witnessing my best friend and brotha-from-anotha-motha being shot in front of me... We were roaming a what we thought was an creek trail, scavenging for for any supplies we could possibly find. (We found a few half-empty boxes of assorted ammunition, but that was it.) It all happened so fast and so suddenly... One moment we were discussing our next move, and the next moment my ears were ringing from a gunshot and Tyler was lying belly-up on the dusty trail, blood pouring from the bullet wound in his abdomen. It must've nicked a blood vessel or something, because blood was squirting everywhere and running down the trail, soaking into the moisture-deprived Texas soil and filling the air with a putrid metallic stench... A stench that if not taken care of, could attract a LOT of, how did that one girl put it? Oh yeah... Unwanted attention.