A couple of hours had gone by, and Red hadn't made it very far. He doubted if he had even traveled a mile. Maybe, attacking Ressler when his leg was in this bad of a condition wasn't his best idea. Oh well, he couldn't change what had been done. His only choice was to deal with the consequences.

It was daybreak, and he wanted desperately to go to sleep. The most he could do was sit down on the side of the road and take a break, and that was exactly what he planned on doing. Gently, he lowered himself to where he could lean back on one of the trees. He let out a long sigh as he wiped the sweat away from his forehead and leaned his head back. Why did it have to be so hot?

He wished that he had some water or food which were both things he'd have access to if he hadn't attacked Donald. He cursed himself mentally when his stomach growled loudly. He shifted to where he was more comfortable and tried to ignore his hunger and thirst. He didn't mean to let it happen, but his eyelids drifted shut before he dozed off.

It was hours later when he woke up, but he was reluctant to open his eyes. He twitched slightly when he felt something cool bump into his chin and neck. Opening his eyes, he saw someone standing over him. He heard a click which signaled to him what was going on. His eyes widened as he quickly swatted the barrel of the rifle away from his throat. Less than a second later, a loud 'bang' sounded by his ear, temporarily deafening him.

He grabbed the barrel and tried to pry it from the man above him only to have it bashed across his head. He fell over to the side in a daze and laid motionless. The click of the hammer being pulled back sounded again, but Red was too far gone to do anything. The trigger was pulled but the only thing that happened was another click.

The man swore under his breath and turned to go back to his pick up to get another round of bullets. Red watched, with blurry vision, as the man walked to the truck and opened the door. Red's mind finally cleared enough that he realized the man was the drug dealer that had run him and Donald off the road.

The dealer walked back to him just as he found the strength to push himself back up into a sitting position. The gun was dropped to the dirt. Apparently, he hadn't been able to find any bullets. Red tensed when he realized what that meant. Before he could move, a fist struck him across the face causing blood to gush from his lower lip. Another hit him under his left eye, when he didn't go down. He was hit another time when he tried to sit back up.

"I thought I already killed you." The dealer muttered.

Red stayed down as his vision started to fade again, and the man dropped to his knees. Hands were wrapped around his throat and cut off his air. He clawed at the dealer's hands before he realized something. He shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out the knife. He quickly flicked it open before ramming it into the dealer's chest.

Blood dripped down onto the front of his clothes as the dealer screamed in pain. Red pulled the knife out before stabbing into the man's heart. It didn't take long for him to bleed out, but Red was doing his best to avoid passing out.

Grabbing his cane, he managed to get up and over to the truck. Hopefully, he could get out of here this time. He searched around for the keys and found them in one of the cup holders. Why they had been placed there, he wasn't really sure. Sitting beside the keys was a burger with a bite taken out of it. Red glared at the food. That bastard had been eating when he'd decided to kill Red.

He reached under driver's seat out of curiosity and furrowed his brow when he felt something. That couldn't be what he thought it was, could it? He pulled it out and sure enough, it was.

"Are you fucking serious?" He muttered to himself as he examined the pistol in his hand. He checked and found that it was fully loaded. If the dealer hadn't been such an idiot, Red wouldn't have survived. Red pulled himself up in the driver's seat and looked into the glove compartment. He nearly yelled out of joy when out fell a map. He snatched it up and found that he was about fifty miles from getting out of the forest.

Cranking the truck, he saw that he had nearly a full tank of gas. That was more than enough to get him out of here. Now, all he had to do was drive back to his current hide out. Then, he could rest and heal up before his next meeting. His only concern was that usually when something was going this good, something was about to go wrong.

He put the truck in drive before leaving the fresh corpse behind. He glanced down at the burger, and his stomach growled again. He picked it up and took a bite. His face contorted with disgust as the taste of rancid meat filled his mouth. He rolled down the window before spitting out the bit of sandwich and throwing the entire thing out the window. Apparently, there had been a reason there was only a bite missing. Hopefully, this would be the only thing to go wrong.