Angel opened her
eyes and looked up at a cloudy sky. She was sore in so many places
but knew she didn't go out. She slowly moved her arms and found
they worked all right. There was a familiar pain in a finger. Her
legs moved when she told them to. Her back was hurting pretty good
but it wasn't any worse than some of her previous injuries.
Angel
lay there for a few moments trying to figure out what happened. She
was on the bike and now she was on the side of the road, partially on
grass and partially on gravel. After a moment she thought of Mark.
Where was Mark?
Slowly she turned on her side. All she saw was winding road behind her and miles of nothingness. She turned her head and what she saw made her scream in panic. With considerable effort she got on her feet and ran to what she saw. She already had tears in her eyes by the time she got there.
Angel saw the
motorcycle and a tree but could barely see Mark. She saw a leather
coat and hair. She ran to the bike. The heavy bike lay on top of one
of his legs and his back was up to a tree. The jeans on his leg were
torn and bloody. She could see his other leg looked the same except
the bike covered her view from the knee down.
His hair was
covering his face. Angel ran around and pulled his hair out of the
way, groaning when she saw his face was covered in blood and his eyes
were closed. She was terrified to know the truth but she had to know.
With fingers shaking she felt his neck for a pulse and put her hand
on his chest. She let out a sigh of relief when she felt not only a
pulse, but felt his chest rise and fall steadily beneath her hand. At
least he was alive.
She felt in all her pockets to find something to try to wipe his face off. Then she realized she left her purse at the hotel and had little in her pockets. She felt for her phone and found it. Pulling it out she swore aloud when she felt it break into pieces in her hand. She grabbed the bandanna off his head and started wiping what she could. After a minute or two she heard a low moan. Normally a sound like that would hurt a person to the core but in this case the sound was as sweet to her as birds singing in the morning.
"Mark!" she yelled. When he didn't respond in the way she wanted she found herself shaking terribly. Realizing her panic wouldn't help anyone she made herself take a breath and try to calm down. She kept repeating his name softly and kept trying to talk to him.
She felt a hand
softly touch her leg. Reaching down, she saw it was as bloody as his
face.
Taking his hand in hers she kept talking to him.
"Squeeze my hand if you can hear me," she said softly. She felt a soft squeeze and was rewarded when his eyes opened slightly.
His face twisted in pain and realization as his senses slowly started coming back.
"Are you
all right?" he asked, remembering what happened and who was with
him.
"I'm fine." She kept trying to wipe the blood
from all the places she could see.
"I should have worn the helmet," he joked and winced at the pain the effort caused. He closed his eyes trying to isolate the pains he was feeling.
"I think my legs hurt," he managed to say.
She looked down and hated to say how bad they looked. He tried to pull his leg slightly to get it away from the pressure it was feeling, but the added pain caused him to yell in agony.
"Stop pulling. The bike is on top of it. I'm going to try to get it off," she said in a voice that he saw as panic.
"You can't lift it. It's too heavy for you," he tried to say but she was already running to the side.
She grabbed it and started lifting. The efforts were for nothing, as the bike wouldn't move under just her efforts. Mark could hear her groans and heard her ask God to help her. Then he smelled something burning.
"Let go Angel. Let go!" he yelled. The loudness of his yell was the only thing that got her attention, and she gave another feeble effort before she finally gave up. When she let go she felt pain in her hands and looked to see her gloves had been burned through. She realized then that she was trying to lift the bike by the exhaust on one hand and another part of the engine with the other. Both parts were almost red-hot from their ride.
She slumped back from the bike, her shoulders hunching in defeat. It took a minute for the pain in her hands to subside, and she had to battle to keep her emotions under control.
"Come here," Mark said softly. Slowly she crawled to him. "Let me see."
Angel grimaced and pulled the gloves off, which caused more pain than before. Amazingly her hands were burned but not as badly as Mark thought they would be. The leather had been burned through and some spots were blistering already.
"I have to get the bike off," she said breathlessly and tried to get up.
"No, just wait," he said, "It's not like the bike's going to fall on me, it's already there. Just wait a few minutes and try to find something to lever it up with." He laid his head back down. Panic was seeping in to his soul when he realized the pain in his legs was being replaced by a numb coldness.
Tears of frustration were flowing down her cheeks. She waited like he said and tried to summon up some energy. After a few seconds she noticed that his right arm was slowly dropping down to the ground, and she leaned over him to check on him. But his eyes were shut again and he appeared to be sleeping.
She looked around and noticed a line of trees a hundred yards behind them. With effort again she got up and wobbled over to them. After quite a while of looking she found a fairly large, thick branch of a tree that had fallen. It was almost too heavy for her. She dragged it back to him and checked him again. His eyes were still closed but she heard his voice.
"You're back," he whispered.
"Of course I'm back. I found a tree branch. I'm going to try to put it under and when I do pull your leg out if you can," she said breathlessly. He nodded and she pulled it into position.
"If it doesn't work don't try again." She looked at him knowing what he was probably thinking.
"It will work. Just get ready." She put her hands on the branch and took a few breaths. He reached down with his hand and grabbed the pants leg. Grunting she lifted the stick as much as she could. She had to position it close to his leg to be able to get the right area up.
"Now!" she yelled using every muscle in her body to hold the stick up and even made herself pull it up an inch farther. He pulled as hard as he could. Finally he was able to move it out of the way as he heard the stick break.
Angel heard the stick crack and opened her eyes praying his leg still wasn't under there. When she saw that it wasn't she dropped it and ran to him. Now she had more room to move around him.
"We have to get you away from the tree." She knew he might have a back injury just by the way he was laying there but she knew she had to get him flat. Then she detected the smell of gasoline. Either the fall or the stick could have put a hole in the fuel tank.
She reached under his arms and tried pulling, and he put his elbows down in an effort to help. They managed to drag a couple of feet before they both lay down in exhaustion.
When she got her breath back she bent back down to check again. His face no longer had the look of agony. Now it just looked in slight pain and total exhaustion. She moved down to his legs frowning at the ripped material. She grabbed it and ripped it open as hard as she could.
Grabbing the bandanna and trying to wipe up more blood, she felt the leg for broken bones. Looking carefully, she now understood why there was so much difference. He must have been dragged for a while before heading to the tree. Not feeling broken bones she switched to the right one. His left leg looked much better than the right one.
Repeating the process she ripped the jeans as much as she could and started feeling his leg. When she got down to the area the bike rested on she felt a bone out of place but he had no reaction. His left leg was torn and bleeding, the right leg had many ripped places and she could see gravel and pavement embedded in some of the many cuts on that leg.
Looking back up to his face she saw it was streaking with blood again. Again, she wiped it as best she could with the now soaked bandanna.
"Are you sure you're all right?" he asked quietly. She nodded. Then he knew she wasn't. He saw the look of pain that was showing now the adrenaline was wearing off.
"What hurts?" he asked, afraid of the answer.
"Just my hands, and my finger." She looked down at the finger and knew it was broken. That was nothing compared to Mark's injuries and she felt guilty even mentioning it.
"What else?" he knew that look and that it was more than a finger.
"My back," she managed to say in spite of the tears.
"How about your head?" He was most afraid of this. The doctors had warned her that another head injury might be fatal. She put her hand up to her head. The helmet was gone; she hadn't realized she had taken it off. She saw the helmet lying next to the bike and it had scrapes on the side of it. Only now was she thankful he made her wear it.
"I don't think I hit my head at all. I think my back is just locked is all. How about you?"
He turned his head away from her. That was something he only did when he wanted to protect her from the truth. Instantly she picked up on this and became even more concerned.
"Tell the truth remember? Be honest with yourself and everyone else," she said quoting his favorite saying. He slowly looked back at her. The truth was something he didn't want to offer right now because he didn't want to face it himself.
"I'm getting pretty dizzy. My left arm is messed up. I'm seeing two of you," he said matter-of-factly.
"What else," she asked, feeling her stomach turn over with worry.
After a long minute she finally heard the phrase that would haunt her. "I can barely feel my legs now," he said, closing his eyes.
Angel sat next to him. He had passed out again. At the same time she also noticed that he was starting to shiver a bit from the cold. She sat there for a long time not knowing what to do. They were miles from the nearest house and she had no way to contact anyone. Suddenly she remembered his phone. Looking over at him she decided it was the best time to see how things looked underneath him. He wouldn't feel any pain. She had to check his pockets for a phone.
Slowly she put her hand on the side of his neck, supporting it. The worst damage was on his left leg so she decided to check on that side. Putting her hand under his shoulder she tried lifting and rolling him as best she could. After two attempts she knew that a few inches was the best she could do. One more time she took a deep breath and rolled him onto his side as much as she could. She put her head to the ground and saw the back of his leather jacket was shredded. She could see parts of his shirt poking out of the holes and the grass had some red on it.
There was nothing she could do about that. He couldn't sit up to check it and she didn't have the strength to lift him up. She slowly lowered him down on his back. She reached her hand under him and felt nothing but his wallet in his back pocket. Putting her hand in the front pocket she found a handkerchief and some change. The other side yielded his phone and a small pocketknife. Praying to herself, she pulled it out but felt panicked as she could feel it falling apart much like hers did. It had been in his left pocket so it had been crushed under him. Loudly she swore to herself.
She sighed and sat trying to collect her thoughts, letting her head rest on her bent knees. Mark needed treatment as soon as possible, but it didn't look like that was going to happen for some time unless she could contact someone. It was up to her for now, and even that was useless because she didn't have anything to treat his wounds. Looking at the handkerchief she wondered what she should do. She thought of the sweater she was wearing under her coat. It was all she had. She undid her coat and removed it, before ripping off the cardigan sweater she was wearing. The small pocketknife Mark had been carrying would at least come in useful, she thought, picking it up and starting to cut the sleeves off. Taking the handkerchief she found the worst cut on his leg and put it on it. She tied the sweater arm over it to secure it in place as a makeshift bandage. She spent the next half hour ripping apart the sweater and using the pieces as best she could. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than nothing.
Inside she was filling with incredible guilt. She'd begged him to go faster. Maybe she didn't lean with him when he lost control and she threw the weight off. He wanted her to go on this ride just to take her mind off Adam. The thought both made her warm with feeling and sick from the same feeling. He had a few bikes already. He probably didn't need another one.
She looked around again and saw nothing she could use to cover him that would be of any use. She could hear him moaning again. Crawling across the ground, she got closer and took his hand. It was ice cold.
Thankfully the bleeding of his head had stopped. She tried saying his name softly until he opened his eyes again.
"Welcome back," she said softly.
He gave her a look of confusion. His eyes scanned around and over her trying to figure out where he was. She saw no pain in his face anymore. She could feel his hand shaking along with the rest of him.
"What happened?" he whispered and the sound made her want to cry.
"You were in an accident," she said plainly.
Memories came
flooding back and he got more agitated. "Are you ok?" he
asked trying to lift himself up.
"I'm fine. I'm doing
better than you are," she tried to smile.
She noticed a strange look on his face.
"My legs are gone aren't they? I don't feel them." Tears were smarting in his eyes.
"Calm down. They are still there. Can you try to move them a little?" She looked down and waited. Nothing.
"Oh God," he said to himself as he closed his eyes again.
She started crying herself. "I'm sorry Mark," she managed to say.
"Sorry for what?"
"This is my fault," she said, her voice barely over a whisper.
"No. It was an accident. If it was anyone's fault it was mine." He reached and held up his hand. Sobbing she grabbed it. Hearing him say that hurt worse than anything so far. Feeling herself lose control she let go of his hand and started walking away. He knew the thoughts that were running through her mind. Ever since Matt, she had the feeling that she did something wrong to deserve it or any bad thing that had happened was her fault in some way. Doctors had told him that was common to anyone who suffered abuse. And that was all she had ever known before they met.
"Come back here," he demanded, trying to sound stern. She continued to walk blindly. Heading to the trees she had found earlier she could hear his cries for her to return but she was heading to a blackness that shut everything else out. Slowly she was losing the control she had managed to hold since this happened. Everyone thought she was strong but inside she knew it was a cover. She only wanted a few minutes alone to get back together. Inside she was wishing for a drink or anything that would make this whole thing seem like a fantasy. Reaching into her pocket again she found her cigarettes and matches. With shaking hands she lit one and kept pacing, making sure he could still see her and know he wasn't alone.
After a few minutes of uncontrollable sobbing she stamped out the cigarette and slowly walked back. He watched her get closer and then turned his head away. She sat down next to him and grabbed his hand again.
"I'm sorry for leaving," she mumbled. Now she felt guilt over leaving him alone when he was calling for her. The only feeling she had right now was guilt in every way imaginable. He turned his head back to her.
"This wasn't your fault. No matter how you try to say it is. We are in this together. Don't leave again until I can get up and give you a swift kick in your ass." He saw a slight smile cross her face and she nodded.
"What time is it?" he asked. She looked at him oddly. Looking down at her watch she was amazed. With everything else that had gone wrong and had broken her stupid watch still worked.
"Its almost 6 o'clock" He could hear the shakiness in her voice.
"Calm down. We were supposed to be at the arena soon. When we don't show up they will come looking. Is your phone still working?" She shook her head.
"Both of them are broken. I have to go and find help." She felt a sudden squeeze of her hand that was stronger than any so far.
"Stay here. Its miles to the nearest house and you are probably hurt worse than you think. And you may not make it that far." He thought of how she would still lose her balance and footing when she got tired.
"I have to do something!" she yelled.
"You have done something. The best bet is to wait here. The salesman expected us back a while ago and Vince will be looking and calling. Sara will be calling. I mean it. Stay here." She shook her head and he saw the look of defiance crossing her features. He had to try a different approach before her stubborn streak kicked in.
"Don't leave me. I need your help," he said as gently as he could. He saw tears dripping down on her coat and he reached up as best he could to wipe them. She could see him visibly shaking now.
"Promise me you will stay here" he looked her in the eyes until he got a nod.
"I am never coming back to New York again. I am never going anywhere cold again," she said, trying to find some way to joke and alleviate the emotions.
"That takes care of half the country," he said quickly. "Have any cars gone by?"
"Not one the whole time. This is back road hell in this part of New York," she said angrily.
"Parts of Texas are like that too," he said with a chuckle.
Two hours later
Vince was fuming with anger. He had called the hotel and learned they
weren't there. Quickly he had to fill their match and pray the fans
wouldn't riot. After arguing with the hotel he slammed the phone
down and saw Rey passing by his makeshift office at the arena.
"Hey
Rey!" he yelled. Rey turned back around and came back in the
office.
"What's up boss?"
"I need you to do me a favor. Did you bring your gear with you?" he asked hopefully.
"Sure but I thought I was only doing promos and interviews."
"Mark and Angel aren't here yet. I have a few calls to make but I need a filler for their match just in case. Will you fight with Kane?" He knew the fans would love to see that after what Kane had supposedly done to Angel when the Matt situation was happening.
"I can but it is going to look like David and Goliath," he said almost comically.
"That's all right. But David will win this one. Go find Glenn and go over things. Use different high spots so we can use the plan on their angle. I owe you a big one." Vince shot his best promoter smile. Rey nodded and left to find his Goliath. Vince picked up the phone again.
Sara had been trying all afternoon to reach the hotel room. After giving up in frustration she pulled out her small phone book and started calling to see if she could reach Vince. Maybe he knew what was going on.
Rey and Kane
walked into the office and could hear Vince yelling in the hallway
before they even got there.
"What time did they leave?"
Pause. "Do you know where they were going?" Pause. "Are
their things still in their room?" Pause. "Give me the
number of the dealership please." Hanging up the phone he
noticed the two standing before him. It did look rather silly. Rey
was a good 2 feet shorter than Kane and they made an odd couple.
"Did you find them yet?" Rey asked with his mask in hand.
"They left this morning to try out a motorcycle at a dealership. Mark left the keys to his rental car with him and left to test drive it and Angel was with him. They should have been gone an hour and that was hours ago. He called the police but Mark didn't tell him where they were going, although they are looking. The dealer mentioned something about black ice in the area from rain. The police are looking but night is coming on" All three of them knew what he was talking about as all of the guys had driven in that area before. Ice you didn't know you were on until you were already skidding. He told them to get ready for the match and picked up the phone again.
Angel kept trying to talk to Mark and keep him aware and awake. His answers were starting to slur and he would lose concentration for a few seconds between them. She tried to bring up as many topics as she could think of; from who trained him to some of the people he had wrestled. His shaking was getting worse. The sky had begun to turn a shade of blue in the distance. Night was coming on quickly and it would get colder.
She kept talking to him until she noticed that he didn't answer her again. She never noticed that she was starting to shake almost as much as he was. Leaning over she touched him on the chest and felt it rise and fall. She had to think of a way to get him warm.
Her hands were getting cold and she put them in her pockets. She felt her pack of cigarettes and the book of matches. Damn! Why didn't she think of that sooner? She got up and started for the trees in the shadows. She brought back as many branches as she could carry and went back for more. Some of them were damp but most were dry being sheltered under the leaves that were still on the trees and the ground.
She remembered the gasoline nearby. They were a few feet away but she went on his other side to be sure. Piling the small branches, she struck one of the matches and prayed. It didn't light the branch. Holding it until it burnt her fingers she struck another. Still nothing. She thought about the pocketknife and pulled it out. Cutting a piece of her shirt she wrapped it around a stick and lit the matches again. This time it started to burn and after a few minutes of staring she saw it was beginning to light the other pieces. It was a small fire but it would offer some warmth.
