3: Fly like an eagle
'Oooooh…' That's me moaning. My head. My neck. My… everything. Everything hurts. My chest feels like a ton of bricks is placed right on top of it. When I open my eyes everything is dark. There's pounding and hammering but I'm not sure if it's in my head or on the car. The noise outside seems louder than ever.
Because despite the noise in my head, I know that I'm still in the Impala, however in a strange horizontal face-down position. I'm lying on the dashboard of the car with my face pressed tightly against the half-shattered windscreen. The pressure on my chest increases with every breath I take.
'D...Dean?' I mutter. He must be left of me, so I reach out with my left hand and find the place vacant. No Dean.
'Hold still, buddy. We'll have you out in minute.' A voice is close to me, coming from Dean's seat. 'My name is Peter, I'm with the fire brigade.'
Fire brigade? Where's the… is there a fire? Is the car on fire?
'Don't move, buddy. You hear me? We're gonna get you out,' Pete repeats. He directs his words to others, I hear him shouting over his shoulder. 'He's coming 'round! Let's get him out.'
'My brother…'
'The driver? We're looking for him. What's your name?'
'Sam,' I manage to say. There's something sticky on my lip. I don't even need to lick it to know what it is - blood. I recognize it anywhere anytime. The smell still triggers a creepy sensation deep inside of me, a hunger I control but which always lurks in the shadows of my past.
'Hi there. My name is Nicole, I'm a paramedic.' A voice pops up on my other side and when I cast a glance that way, I see a woman in a uniform, strapped in a harness, lowered down from somewhere up top. She's held in place by white and red ropes, like the stick of a blind man, I realize with a strange sense of detachment. 'I'm gonna put this brace around your neck.'
Really? No please. 'Don't. Not necessary.'
'I know you don't think it's very manly,' Nicole cheerfully says. 'Too bad for you. Believe me, you'll start feeling a lot better once I have this thing in place. Besides, girls dig injured guys.' Without much further ado, she professionally shoves a cool plastic collar around my neck. 'Sam, right? Can you tell me where you're hurting?'
'Everywhere,' I croak. But lo and behold, she wasn't lying. The collar slightly relieves the pain in my head and my neck and stops it from spreading down further. Finally the fog that's been clouding my vision is fading and now I see where I am.
On top of a bunch of trees.
It's unbelievable but the Impala has landed on treetops. Far beneath me whirls water, wild and fast. Although it's dark outside, I can see white rolls dancing when waves of the current hit the rocks. I'm almost in a ninety degrees angle above a river, surrounded by leaves, branches and the ever present rain. How long I've been up here I don't know.
My god, we were lucky. If these trees hadn't broken our fall, we'd be in big…
We…?
There is no we.
Dean? Dean? DEAN!
(to be continued)