Chapter 20 - Roads
With the sun now completely gone, Vegeta had switched on the headlights as he'd taken the deserted road running along the high cliffs overhanging the see. The horizon was darkening in the distance and, except for the humming of the motor, everything was silent inside the car.
Vegeta's breathing was coming back to normal little by little, but his nerves were still pressed by the urge to drive away as far as possible and as quickly as possible. He kept in mind that there had been another sniper and it meant they could be hunted down - a dire prospect considering their ridiculous banger.
He kept glancing nervously at the rear-view mirror, but nothing had come in sight so far. No foe, yet no friend either. They were in the middle of nowhere and there wasn't a single house around to stop and give a call.
The Heiress was sitting still next to him, staring blankly straight ahead with her fingers still clutching her gun. "We left him behind," she stated all of a sudden.
He glimpsed at her and found out she was contemplating her fingers smeared with the clown's blood. She blurted out a nervous sob.
Having her break down was the last thing he needed. If anything, her concern for her friend was a sign that she believed they were out of danger and she could let herself go, but Vegeta wasn't that optimistic. "We're going to find a phone or someone, and they'll send help for him," he replied in a flat voice.
She snorted and did her best to restrain her urge to cry. "I don't think so. We're heading the wrong way. The town is in the other direction," she murmured.
The Saiyan froze as he realized she was right. He'd been in such hurry to leave the house that he hadn't paid attention to the road. He cursed under his breath. "Where does that damn road go, then?"
Bulma shrugged. "Some fishers' village, I guess. I can't believe we left him behind. What am I to tell Tien?"
"You'll tell him you saved your ass," Vegeta grumped. Her complain was getting on his nerves, but most of all, his own mistakes were angering him. "Is no one living around in that fucking backwater?"
"Why not just turn around towards the town? The guy's dead anyway, there is no danger in heading back to the house," she suggested absently.
"You never know," he growled in a hardly audible voice.
She didn't reply at first, but he could feel her shocked gaze on him. "God, do you mean…" She broke off, but he had no doubt she'd suddenly figured out the guy she'd shot hadn't be the only sniper. She whirled herself around on the seat to take a look at the rear windscreen. "I… I think there's someone behind," she stammered.
He watched the rear-view mirror again. A small point had showed up in the distance. It wasn't a car, more like a bike and most of all, the driver hadn't turned his headlights on. That detail caught the Saiyan's attention at once. He clenched his fingers on the wheel and pressed his foot deeper on the accelerator. The moment he heard the distant roaring of the bike, he knew his move would hardly buy them time. The car the Capsule had rent wasn't a fast model while the motor of whoever was behind them promised speeding light.
He heard a click as the Heiress checked her gun. "Maybe, it's only some random driver. Maybe he could help us," she whispered.
As a reply, Vegeta took out the gun he'd stuck in his belt and rested it on the dashboard.
Bulma shifted in discomfort and unbuckled her belt in order to be able to face the back of the car and watch the bike coming closer to them.
"His headlights are off," she pointed out.
Her statement was rewarded by the rear windscreen shattering in a dull sound. She coiled up at once with a yelp, trying to use her seat as a shield. Metallic shocks echoed in chain until Vegeta turned the wheel in a sharp zigzag.
The biker was nimble though and he adjusted his speed while following them closely.
The Saiyan did his best to keep him in sight through the rear-view mirror, but the bastard was good. Bulma cursed under her breath as she bumped her head against the door frame. "Shit! Why didn't you tell me they were more of them?" she hissed.
He didn't bother replying as he was focused on making it difficult for the biker to keep driving and shooting at the same time. What got even more on his nerves was that the guy seemed to enjoy the game.
All of a sudden, Vegeta felt a harsh gut of wind entering the car through the passenger's side. His eyes widened in disbelief as he found out Bulma had opened her window and was now hoisting herself out of the car with the gun in her hand.
"Crazy dumbass, what do you think you're doing?" he yelled at her.
She ignored him and sat herself on the ledge of the window, her upper body outside of the car now. The brusque driving forced her to clutch the window frame with all her strength and at some point her position looked so insane, Vegeta grabbed one of her ankle with a hand to ensure she wouldn't be thrown out of the car.
The biker tried to take advantage of the diversion to catch up with them and get himself to their side, but she shot at him and forced him to slow down and back away from them.
"Aim at the bike, damnit," Vegeta hissed.
Her gun was empty poked her head back into the car. "It's too fucking dark, gimme yours," she grunted.
He had a second thought. This wasn't good. It was way too dangerous. Doing nothing might be as deadly however. He took his gun and handed it to her.
The bike was coming back at a worrying speed and Vegeta gave the wheel a harsh turn in order to prevent any attempt to overtake them. Bulma shrieked in panic and was almost flung away by the move. "Can't you give a warning at least?" she shouted at him.
Vegeta didn't pay her any attention. Their pursuer had been able to rush up to their side in the small gap between the car and the border of the road. He was on the driver's side. He hadn't reached the level of the back door yet, but he was speeding forward and although the Saiyan could hardly make out his figure in the dim light, what he could see pretty clearly in the rear-view mirror was the barrel of his weapon pointing at his direction and coming closer. "Shoot him!" Vegeta urged in alarm.
"I lost the gun," he heard her say in the distance. Yet, something else had actually caught his attention. The guy had no helmet and as he was nearing Vegeta's level, his black straight hair and blue icy eyes froze the Saiyan to the bones. He was fucking dead.
The thought was drowned in sheer panic and his survival instinct took over at the pressing situation. He gave the wheel a sharp turn closer to the edge of the cliffs in order to force the biker out of the road. It was too much for the unprepared banger though and it waltzed away.
Vegeta had just time to see the wide blue eyes as their pursuer tried to brake, then he felt the shock of the bike getting hit full force and bouncing against the car body. The mighty motor roared in despair as the bike was hurled away down the pit.
The Saiyan kept turning the wheel in frantic gestures in an attempt to get the car back to the road, but he no longer had control. The back tires were already off ground and the banger toppled over backward despite his efforts.
Bulma was thrown back inside the car and slammed against Vegeta. His head hit hard against the door frame and all of a sudden the air bags inflated. After that, he lost tracks of events.
He couldn't say when or why the car stopped rolling down. At some point, he just figured out it was over and he was still alive. His brain was numb and he needed some time to realize the car was resting on the driver's side. The security belt kept his head dangling a few centimeters above the ground. His hand searched for the button to unbuckle it and when he pressed the mechanism, he dropped straight on the cracked window.
The motor was dead but the headlights were still on. He forced himself to blink back to reality although his mind was dangerously drifting away.
Only then, he realized that Bulma's body was nowhere to be seen. It sobered him up at once. "Miss Briefs," he called. His voice was much lower than expected though. He coughed and sat up.
The front windscreen was gone and he crept his way out of the car through the wide hole. He couldn't see well and cut his wrist on a piece of metal bulging out of the wrecked vehicle. He cursed under his breath and sneaked out as carefully as possible.
The ground outside was damp stone with some weeds surging out up and there. He sat wearily and scanned the darkness around. "Miss Briefs," he called again. This time, his voice was closer to normal, but there was still no answer. Everything was quiet. He felt dizzy and he sensed blood slowly dripping around his left eyelid and along his cheek.
He struggled to his feet despite the aching of his whole body. "Miss Briefs," he shouted.
The ledge that had stopped their fall was rather broad and he could hardly make out its entire surface. He looked up and tried to gauge the heights of their fall. The move had his head spinning at once, but he was able to deem the road to be about ten meters above. With no security belt, it was no wonder the woman had been thrown out of the car and a dull fear knotted his guts. "Bulma!" he roared in alarm.
This time a weak grunt echoed in return. His eyes searched the place with care until he spotted a form lying further in the shadow. He limped hastily up to it and found Bulma coiled up on the ground. Her eyes were half closed while a disturbing amount of blood had colored part of her hair red.
"Don't move," he whispered as he knelt down next to her.
Her eyelids fluttered. "Where… What," she stuttered in a weak voice.
"How do you feel?" he asked while resting a gentle hand on her arm.
"Like shit, I guess. Where's the damn sniper?" she mumbled, still unmoving.
Vegeta looked around. "In hell," he replied although he couldn't help but wonder if it was really the case.
Beside her injured head, she had a bleeding wound on her side. He pulled gently the fabric of her shirt up in order to glimpse at the injury. There was too much blood and too few light to see anything properly though. "Can you sit up?" he asked.
"I don't know. It hurt so much," she murmured.
"Try," he commanded softly yet firmly.
She was able to prop herself on her palm but her face was a grimace of pain.
"Let me help you," he offered while slipping his arm under her armpits. He lifted her up as gently as possible. She winced in agony and moaned. She eventually sat back on the floor with tears rolling down her head. "I can't," she whined. "It hurts too much and I feel so dizzy."
"It's Ok," he reassured her. "Just stay there. We might be rescued soon enough." His words sounded fake, but she didn't even noticed. He realized her eyes were hazy. She wasn't far from losing conscience and it was something he didn't like. The situation reminded him too many bad memories. "Bulma, stay with me, please," he urged.
She looked up at him. "Where do you think I could go?" she growled.
"Stay awake," he insisted.
Her eyes turned blank again.
"Bulma," he snapped.
She blinked at him as if she'd been oblivious of his presence so far. "I'm cold," she stated.
Her shirt was a light fabric, torn and soaked with wet blood. He took off his jacket and put it on her shoulders rubbing her back to warm her up. "Is it better that way?" he asked.
"I'm tired too. I want to sleep," she slurred. She leaned down and rested her head on his laps.
"Ok. Take some rest, but stay with me. Tell me about something," he sighed while shifting in order to make her more comfortable.
"Tell you about what?" she murmured.
Her voice was low and slow. He had to find a topic she would willingly focus on. "Tell me about your baseball player. You said he wanted to marry you."
"Yamcha," she whispered. Then, she kept silent.
"Yeah, Yamcha. So gotta marry him?"
"Marry Yamcha?" she asked in bewilderment.
Her train of thoughts was off tracks again. Vegeta glanced warily at the headlights of the car. He hoped they would help them get spotted from the road and be rescued. "You told me you'd like to marry him, remember? He proposed you on the beach," he resumed absently.
She nestled her head against his thighs and sighed. "Poor Yamcha. I freak him out. I always do that to men, you know."
He couldn't help a smirk at the statement. He couldn't deny she was a freaking woman. "Maybe you should calm down and live a more normal life," he suggested.
"A more normal life," she repeated thoughtfully. "I was never taught to have a normal life. Were you?"
He had a sad smile and looked down at her. He met her blue foggy eyes. "I've never been taught either. Shouldn't be very difficult though."
She blinked and her lips stretched into a soft smile. "Is it what you're looking for, then? Try to find the recipe of…"
She broke off as her eyelids shot down slowly. He brushed her blood soaked locks away from her forehead in order to create a contact with her. "Don't fall asleep," he growled.
Her eyes flicked open again. "Where are we?" she asked.
"On a ledge down the cliff. We had a car crash, remember? Rescue won't be long to come, but you have to stay awake."
"Will it be long?" she asked sheepishly.
"Not so long," he lied. He was running out of ideas to keep her focus. "Tell me what you'd do if you could have any wish granted," he carried on.
She mused with a pout, obviously struggling with her haziness. "I… I wished I could fix the wrong I did."
He chuckled at that. "Wrong? So you're not miss perfection? I'm sort of disappointed. So, what sort of wrong did you do?"
She bit her lips and her eyes watered. "I've been selfish and people had to pay the bill in my place," she muttered.
"Sounds awful."
"It is," she exclaimed forcefully. "You don't know… Why do you think we're in that shit in the first place?"
He frowned at her words. She sounded like she had a sudden burst of lucidity. "And why is that if I may ask?" he carried on.
"I'm a mess," she sobbed in reply.
He was now seized by the need to learn more. "You don't know what a mess is. I do. It can't be that terrible, tell me."
She kept whining for a moment but she eventually stopped in a sigh. "I'm so weary. I'll tell you if you tell me the worst thing you've ever done," she whispered.
He arched his eyebrows. He couldn't even sort out the worst things he'd done in his whole life. He had to pick up something significant enough to have her talk in turn though. "I… Huh… Let's see… When I was about 15, I was to get engaged with… A girl from a different country. I didn't pick her up and I haven't even met her until the day we were betrothed. However, it was war at that time and my family didn't agree with that commitment. Actually, neither was I… So, on the day of the betrothal a raid was organized to stop the ceremony. It was… a bloody mess, a nasty thing. The girl, she was my age then. Her whole family was slain in front of her. At the end of all, she was the only one still standing and… Well, we killed her too and I let that happen."
He interrupted himself. Oddly enough the story sounded much more awful than it was in his memory even though he'd skipped the fact that he'd killed her with his own hands. She was scared and shocked. She was fifteen and he had no second thought. His hatred for the Ice-Jinns had been that strong at the time. He looked down at Bulma to gauge her reaction, but he found out she had closed her eyes again. "Bulma," he growled.
This time he got no answer at all though. He shook her in order to wake her up, but she didn't move. He sensed her vitals in her neck. Her heart was still beating except maybe not at reassuring pace. "Shit," he hissed.
He couldn't just sit and wait here. The road was high above them and nobody seemed to take it at any time. The headlights would end up dying out and then they would stand no chance to be found before dawn.
He carefully disentangled himself from Bulma's body and stood up. His muscles were numb and aching reminding him he wasn't in a very good condition either.
He considered the pile of boulders leading to the road. It was complete night now and he couldn't see much. He started a climb. Once, twice. He tried to do it by using different rocks at different places, but he failed hoisting himself at a serious height above the ground. At some point, he fell down and sprained his ankle. "Fuck off!" he yelled out of frustration.
He slumped down next to Bulma and watched her for a while. Somehow he'd believed that he would never live such situation again. Having someone slowly dying beside him and watching in hopelessness. Being again the one surviving.
A slight noise snatched him out of his bleak musing. He stiffened and listened. It was a soft distant muffled noise. Like a rubbing. Someone was climbing down. The fucking second sniper.
He didn't even have any gun anymore. His eyes wandered around in search for any hideout, but before he could even stand up, a familiar voice echoed. "Vegeta?"
"Goku, is that you? You, dumbass!"
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