For prompt 13: Won't regain consciousness
"Come on, come on," Alex muttered. He glanced around the corner of the wall he was leaning against. Gunfire continued on the other side of the building, but here the place was empty. "Finally."
Alex sprinted the few meters back to where he had left Fox lying on the ground. Blood spotted his uniform; his young face was pale and slack. Alex slapped him lightly on the cheek.
"Ben?"
Fox didn't move.
Alex looked back. There were fifty meters from the wall to the chain-linked fence surrounding the property. He could be there in less than eight seconds and scale the fence in another ten. In half a minute he would be lost in the scrub, far out of the way of any wayward bullet.
He slapped Fox again. "Come on, Ben. We need to go now."
Was the shooting growing louder, or was it just his imagination?
Grabbing Fox under the arms, he managed a few stumbling steps into the open before his grip slipped and Fox slumped back to the ground. Geez, he was heavy. Alex gasped for breath as if he had run a marathon. The short distance to the fence might as well have been.
"Just taking a short break, Ben," Alex reassured. Fox stayed silent.
Alex grabbed Fox again and dragged him another few meters closer to the fence, stopped to catch his breath, then continued on. He repeated the process several times.
"Nearly there." Alex glanced over his shoulder. The chain links looked sturdier up close. "Only a few more meters."
He expected a bullet to the head with every step and had to force himself not to constantly look around. There was no cover on this side of the fence; if the wrong person found them, it wouldn't matter if Alex spotted the shooter first.
Drenched in sweat, he clung to the fence and closed his eyes for a moment. Those had been the longest fifty meters in his life. Alex accidentally stepped on Fox's hand when he knelt before the fence. The man didn't react.
"Sorry, Ben." Alex quickly looked away and started sawing at the fence with his pocket knife. It wasn't made for the work, and it took ages to get through even a single link. There was no way Alex could have climbed the fence with Fox though.
The bursts of gunfire became sporadic and died. Now or never.
Another link snapped under his blade, and Alex bent the fence to see the size of the hole. It would be tight, but it would have to do. They were out of time.
He pulled Fox closer and started manoeuvring him backwards through the fence. They got caught on the edges, and Alex' desperate tugging probably didn't help, but they both got through in the end.
And then two men armed with semi-automatics turned the corner of the building and caught sight of them.
Fox didn't stir.
Alex didn't either.
Themes: Non-graphic injuries, open-ended
