Jack clung desperately to consciousness. The pain in his shoulder was growing with each breath he took and it threatened to engulf him in blackness. He shifted uncomfortably against the wall. Just as he was about to lose consciousness, he heard the familiar sound of Sydney's truck. "Thank God," he thought. Pushing himself off the wall, he staggered toward the street as Sydney's truck pulled up. Grimacing as he pulled the door open, he climbed in and collapsed onto the passenger seat.
Sydney glanced at him with concern. "Dad, are you …".
Jack cut her off. "Drive. I'll explain in a minute. Make sure no one's tailing us." With that, he closed his eyes, laid his head back against the headrest and surrendered momentarily to the pain.
Sydney drove as she was ordered, but out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of a large reddish brown stain on Jack's coat. It looked like blood. "Dad, you're hurt."
Jack didn't respond. The only sound that broke the silence was his ragged breathing. Sydney glanced over at him again. His eyes were shut and his head lolled on the headrest. Thinking he had passed out, she stopped the truck and turned toward him.
The waves of pain had forced Jack to the brink of unconsciousness, but Sydney's voice was like a lifeline pulling him back. He forced his eyes open and found Sydney's concerned face hovering over his. In a pain roughened voice he said, "Keep driving."
"Dad …"
"Sydney, just drive." Once they were moving again, Jack explained what happened.
