Marcus was bowed over the steering wheel of the Avalanche, grasping his inhaler tightly in one fist and his cell phone in the other. Every ounce of common sense and self preservation was dictating that he follow Leonardo's instructions to stay put, but the memory of Raphael's yell ringing in his ears was forcing him to falter. Raph sounded desperate, and he'd have to be! There's no way he'd try to attract attention to himself unless he had no other choice. If I risk waiting for the guys, if I do nothing in the meantime… it could be too little, too late.
He dropped his phone and inhaler on the passenger seat. There was no point in calling anyone to ask for permission that wouldn't be granted. The man had no idea what he was going to do, but continuing to sit there wasn't an option. As for a weapon, the car is the only thing I've got. It has to be safer than going on foot, in any case.
The decision suddenly cast, Marc shifted the Avalanche into drive. For the first few feet, he concentrated on merely controlling his breathing. It was important to prevent another asthma attack from almost overtaking him like the one that had threatened while he was doing nothing but waiting for the turtles to arrive.
When he turned his vehicle into the alley however, a completely different feeling came over him. His fear was evidenced by his death-grip on the steering wheel to stop his hands from shaking, but now there was determination too. Marcus flashed his high-beams, revving the engine while he slipped through the entrance.
He knew it was going to be a tight fit for the Avalanche. Marc bit his lip as he squeezed past the dumpster, fully aware of the metal scraping down the side of the car, but dead-set on getting through. He revved the engine once more as he caught sight of figures frozen in the bright beams of his head lights.
Marcus was glancing left and right for a sign of Raphael when one of the men broke out of the trance, snatching for something from his belt. He had just enough time to discern that the figure was drawing a gun, when a larger man practically dove on top of his cohort, and then shoved him several feet in the opposite direction.
"Go, go!" one of the strangers exclaimed. "Move!"
Marc continued driving forward, hoping, praying that it could be that simple to get rid of the men. The third shadow was riveted to his spot, until the other two had fled down the opposite end of the alley. Only then did he turn tail to run after them. Marcus couldn't wait for him to disappear before continuing his quest for Raphael, and returned to rapidly scannning the ground.
The man exhaled went he saw a flash of brown; the same color as the sweatshirt Raphael had been wearing earlier. The turtle was crouched on the pavement only a couple of feet away. Without a second thought Marcus jumped out of the relative safety of the Avalanche, leaving his high beams on to provide him with light. A shiver ran down his spine as he bent over the turtle, mystified by his odd position.
The squealing of tires from several yards away made Marc feel a bit better, but only just. Please don't let them grow a backbone and return.
"Raph?" Marcus lifted his friend's chin, but he didn't respond. He grasped at the tape covering the turtle's mouth, and pried it loose with his fingernails as carefully as he could. Marc could hear Raphael breathing, but felt for his pulse to check his heart rate anyway. It throbbed too quickly under his fingers, unsurprisingly.
He fingered the turtle's layers to find them saturated, and grimaced at the accompanying odor. They soaked him in gasoline! What kind of animal does something like that? Marc's head shot up with paranoia, watching the other entrance to the alley. Hopefully one that will keep running.
Marcus returned his attention to his injured friend, probing for the source of fresh blood trailing down his face. He located a laceration that was still seeping on the right side of skull, and his concern increased by a couple more degrees. He huffed in frustration as he was unable to shift the turtle, and bent lower to the ground to find out why.
His eyebrows rose at the sight of chains looping the turtle's hands and feet to the metal grate, and groaned when he discovered the padlocks. "Really?" Helplessness only lasted for a second before he recalled that he already had what he needed to help Raphael in the back of the Avalanche. Among other things that Luke encouraged him to carry were a couple of tools, including bolt cutters. Luke's instructions make more sense now, that and the fact that he used to pack heat. I would have felt better if I'd had a gun tonight.
Marcus was drawn out of thought by the softest of whimpers from the turtle. "Raph? Hold on, buddy. I'll be right back!" He had no idea if his friend could hear him, but it didn't stop him from trying.
The man raced around the side of his vehicle, climbing over the seats to find the tool. He brought along a blanket and a small medical kit that had been located under the seat, but stopped short from getting out of the car. My phone. I should take that with me too and call the turtles, even if they're going to kill me. Whether or not the bad guys come back, there's still a chance someone else could along and find us.
Marc's first move upon returning to Raphael was to attack the restraints. His dark eyes narrowed when he realized how tightly the turtle's limbs had been bound. Man, I wish the guys could have gotten here in time, but those men weren't going to wait. Who knows what would have happened if I'd tried to hold off for a few more minutes? I didn't want to find out.
Once Marcus had cut through the chains, Raphael instantly slumped toward the ground. The man caught him, drawing him backwards on top of the blanket. He sighed as he knelt on the edge of the material, knowing that it was time to call Leonardo. Marc's gaze fixed on the other end of the alley while he waited for the blue-masked turtle to pick up the phone.
"What is it, Marcus?" Leo answered without pleasantries.
"How far away are you?"
"Maybe ten minutes, and we're trying to close that gap."
"I have Raph. He's hurt, and I can't load him into the Avalanche by myself. Hurry."
"How did—"
"Don't ask me right now. Just get here."
"We're coming," the turtle said firmly.
The man hung up the phone and shifted to a new position behind Raphael's head. Whatever struck him, it looks like a glancing blow. Something absorbed part of the impact, or it could have been a lot worse. He reached for his open kit, tearing off a piece of gauze to help staunch the bleeding.
Marcus held the strip in place with one hand, and began feeling along the turtle's forehead with the other, checking for more injuries. Unexpected heat met his fingertips, and he immediately turned his hand over to check the temperature more accurately. He winced at how hot Raphael's skin felt. Darn it, why didn't you let me drive you? April is a big girl. She knows how to use a taxi. This was way more important.
The red-masked turtle twitched, almost like he was waking up.
"Raph? Can you hear me?"
His eyes flickered, but the sign of life was gone as quickly as it had appeared.
"Aw, Raph. What are we going to do with you?"
The sound of a car made Marc's neck whip around, but the vehicle kept going past the alley. The man gulped for air, forcing himself to breathe in a normal rhythm. It's okay. The guys are going to get here. The man supported Raphael's head in his lap, heedless of the moisture soaking through his own clothes. Those men got gasoline everywhere. It's like they weren't even trying to keep…
The thought trailed off as Marcus glanced at the building to his right, and back down at the pools of gasoline. This had nothing to do with Raph, not at first. It was arson…and they were planning on torching him too. Marc shuddered at the idea, fury causing him to hold onto his friend tighter. Animals, he repeated. How on earth could human beings sink so low? I'll never understand.
The minutes passed slowly; much too slowly for Marc's liking. He was on high alert over every single sound, and jumped a few inches when he heard a soft clank from around the corner. The hissed "Marc!" that followed flooded his senses with relief.
"Down here," he called in return, though it was unnecessary. The stealthy figures of the turtles were already slipping around the corner. The brothers caught up with him in the blink of an eye.
Donatello was the first one on the ground. "What the…why is he soaked, Marc? And smell like gasoline?"
Marcus shook his head. "I didn't see any of it. I think he got caught in the middle of an attempted arson. When he went down, it looks like they decided to torch him."
The enraged look in the purple-masked turtle's eyes made Marc glad that he wasn't his enemy. Donny's face softened the moment he turned back to his brother, and he probed him gently with his own experienced hands.
"Shell, he's hot. I should have seen it…"
"Don." Leonardo's voice startled Marcus with its closeness. "We need to get out of here. Is it safe to move him?"
"Yes," he agreed.
"Let me take him," the blue-masked turtle requested.
Donny backed closer to the Avalanche while his brother gathered up Raphael, and his eyes flickered over obvious damage down the right side of the vehicle. "You'd better bring your car down to the van entrance and leave it with me, Marc. You don't want to get implicated in whatever this scheme was. I can fix it up for you."
"No rush," Marcus returned. "Will you take Raph back with the Slider?"
Don nodded. "It's the fastest way home."
"Then I'll drive my car around and head there too."
"Donny, I think we're going," Mike announced, motioning to Leonardo exiting the alley.
"Everything will be okay," Marcus said with more certainty than he'd felt before. "We'll get Raph fixed up."
Donatello sighed anxiously. "Yeah. Do you know if Doc was working tonight?"
"Not that I know of, not unless he got called in. Listen, go catch up with your brothers, and I'll meet you in a few minutes."