Chapter Thirteen: Broken
Flailing as he free-fell, Jane barely managed to get his feet under him before he hit the ground. Hard.
There was a gruesome "snap" as his shoes slammed into the earth, followed by the most intense physical agony he could recall in his lifetime. Jane immediately fell over sideways, groaning and curling in on himself like a fetus while electric bolts of pain radiated from his right leg.
Waves of cold sickness washed over him. Jane squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face into the dirt.
Swallowing over and over, he fought back the bile until he could breathe and open his eyes without needing to retch.
Panting, Jane forced himself to sit up. He didn't look at the leg. Didn't need to – it was broken in at least one place between ankle and knee. Jane looked instead at Penny, who was hovering over him. The little girl danced from foot to foot, her arms outstretched toward him, not sure if she should touch.
Another gunshot cracked overhead, and her whole body jerked.
Jane swallowed again and gritted his teeth.
Shifting slightly, he tried to rise onto his left knee. Black stars littered Jane's vision. His upper body swayed.
Icy fingers closed around his left hand, pulling it up off the dirt. The connection was grounding – a lifeline of steadiness in the dim, spinning world. Jane clutched at it, breathing and blinking until the stars fell away, and he could see Penny standing there, holding his hand in both of hers.
On the next try, Jane was able to get up onto his knee.
The pain in his right leg was still at a constant, screaming pitch – a brutal sledgehammer blow held out long, like a piano note. It refused to ebb, wouldn't give him even the smallest drop of mercy, and Jane could feel tears swimming in his eyes as he tightened his hand around Penny's…
One…
Two…
THREE!
With a clumsy thrust that put weight on his bad leg – even though he had tried so hard not to – and some surprisingly powerful tugging from Penny, Jane managed to stand upright.
The bad leg screamed louder than ever. Jane instantly drew it up off the ground, teetering on his left leg while he sucked great gasps through his nose. More sweat poured off of him, but his balanced steadied.
Penny gripped his hand, awaiting the next move.
They didn't have to go far.
Jane tried to remind himself of this as he began to hop awkwardly along, half leaning on the little girl for support.
Not far – Not far – Not far –
His brain repeated the phrase mechanically on each bone-jarring impact.
Not far –
When they got close to the garage, he leaned on that, too, painting red handprints across the snow-white siding.
Jane's stomach rolled at the sight of the ugly smears, the metal smell of the blood.
Not far…
Just to the car, he promised himself. It didn't matter whose car at this point, since Jane's keys were still hanging on that cactus inside the house. Fortunately, he had met some interesting people over the years, who'd taught him interesting things. Hot-wiring a vehicle was no problem.
They just had to get there.
(Not far)
Jane's still-oozing hand slipped off the garage. He leaned extra-hard on Penny, who wobbled under the strain. Don't fall, he commanded his body, and it listened.
They kept moving.
Jane forced his mind onto the task that lay ahead. He concentrated, picturing the wires in his head, which ones to cut apart, the bright happy spark and throaty rev when he touched them together.
His slick fingers fumbled again, losing purchase. Jane looked up. He'd reached the end of the garage. He stopped for a moment, breathing and dripping sweat. Penny halted alongside him.
Just around the corner, the cars were waiting. In a moment, he would be able to see them.
Jane braced himself to start hopping again. A ringing noise distracted him. Shrill, tinny shriek of bells, oddly hollow in his one good ear.
Cell phone.
But not his cell phone. The ring was too far away, and much less musical than Jane's own.
Jane shivered in the warm desert breeze. He leaned ever-so-slightly forward and peeked around the edge of the garage.