Night Blood
John Reese knew the recovery of their current person of interest diamonds, from Elias' latest illegal game plan was going to be nearly impossible to pull off. He had no idea the diamonds would force him to travel from New York City, across country to Seattle, Washington, and then to Ocean Shores on the coast of Grays Harbor County. He only knew that the bullet imbedded in his left shoulder (again) and the broken ribs were making the drive from Ocean Shores back to Seattle nearly impossible for him. Secrecy was essential in his bid to "get out of Dodge" before Elias' men could track him, He stuffed paper towels stolen from the 7-11 restroom under his now damp dress shirt and onto his shoulder's hole, wrapping some duck tape he had found in an alley dumpster around his ribs, and kept the rental car at posted speed limits through Hoquiam, Aberdeen, and Montesano. More than once he felt himself swaying the car to the right onto the shoulder, his eyes desperate for rest, and more than once the D.O.T's ridges cut into the lane's edge would wake him up and he would quickly make the correction. John knew he needed some medical assistance somehow soon, as his left arm was no longer aiding his driving, and he began to hear rattling in each breath he took. Once out of Montesano, he pulled off onto the back roads, and slowly reached for his cell phone in his breast pocket. When he glanced down, the phone had a bullet hole right through it, and he was tempted to just throw it out the window. Instead, he tried dialing her number, the one person he knew could help him. The cell was unbelievably useless, but he held on to it as if it was his only life line to safety.
The road signs were progressively blurring in his vision, but when he saw the town's name, he nearly thanked God for the three miles to it. Reese kept driving until he recognized the street to the church, and he pulled off and slowly came to a halt in front of the church's front door stoop. Taking a deep breath, he reached for the driver's door handle with his right hand, the ribs screaming their protest. He slide out of the car, but could not go much further than the front bumper, before the dark edges in his eyes grew to over take him, and the former C.I.A. Operative slide slowly down the front hood and onto the gravel, unconscious, his face planted in the small rocks, his precious blood seeping down his body into tiny streams of dark red that flowed under the rental car.
