Chapter 97:
Time’s Running Out
Xavier stared grimly in front of him,
weaving recklessly in and out of highway traffic, ignoring the annoyed honks of
motorists as he sped through on his way to the border. He checked his watch and
frowned, noting the time. It would be a close call as to whether he made it
across, the border patrol not allowing any motor vehicle passage after
And now it was gone, vanished, over.
The game had ended, not with a bang, but with a whimper. Drumming his fingers
lightly on the steering wheel, he thought about his lost opportunity for
success, for wealth, for Brian. In pain and in a panic he had fled the
accident, only wanting to escape. Now he felt a twinge of remorse at not taking
the time to locate Brian. Was he alive? Was he dead? The frustration of not
knowing gnawed at him and he crossly shoved his feelings aside, angered at his
distress, his worry, his desire for the young Backstreet Boy. He sighed
heavily. Well, there was nothing he could do now. Nothing.
Xavier's eyes caught the small glowing
light of a cell phone, wedged into the crux of the passenger seat along with a
pack of cigarettes. Reaching over carefully, he picked it up, wincing as he
made his injured left hand steer the small truck. Grazing his thumb over the keypad
gently, Xavier drove on, thinking, wondering. There would be nothing he'd enjoy
more than to see tomorrow's paper declaring the deaths of Nick, Howie, Kevin,
and especially that asshole, AJ. But along with that announcement would surely
come the notice that Brian was dead too. If he wasn't already. If. He
swore inwardly, maddened that someone could have so much sway over him. He tap,
tap, tapped the cell phone against the dashboard for a
moment, irritated, completely at odds with himself. He began to punch a number,
cursed himself for his weakness and hit the end button, canceling the call.
Closing his eyes for a second, Brian’s face came into view and he wavered, his
fingers gripping the base of the phone tightly. Maybe the game wasn’t over.
Maybe, just maybe it could continue, could begin again. Sure, the rules would
have to be different, but the player would be the same… His mind screamed
against the danger in it, the madness, but for the moment he didn’t care, his
desire for success, for Brian overpowering any logic. Punching the pad again,
Xavier brought the phone up gingerly to his face, waiting for the call to go
through, half-scared it would, half-scared it
wouldn't. Hearing the click of directory assistance, Xavier checked a freeway
mileage marker, made a mental note, and then proceeded to give instructions to
the emergency operator.
* * * * * * * * *
The bus was immense, huge, beyond mammoth,
and Matt gamely scrambled after AJ, figuring the young man knew more about the
location of his friends than he did. He was shook up a little at the knowledge
that there were more; he had just assumed by visual inspection that Nick and AJ
were the only ones on board. Hearing AJ's excited yell and furious grunts, Matt
found himself crouched next to AJ, assisting him in lifting a heavy object off
the floor.
"Howie!" inhaled AJ sharply,
desperately flinging off other odds and ends as fast as he could.
"AJ!" shouted Nick, his voice
pitched high in fear, "what’s going on? Did you find Howie?"
"Yeah! He's unconscious!"
"Oh, God!" filtered Nick's voice
from the back. "Help him!"
"I'm trying!" yelled AJ. He
glanced worriedly at Matt. "What do we do?"
Matt ignored AJ's frantic question,
bending down to push the long hair away from Howie's neck. Snaking two fingers,
Matt sought for the artery in his neck, seeking a pulse. Nodding happily, Matt
pulled his hand away. "He's alive. How bad he's injured, I don't know. The
interior lights of the bus flickered then dimmed a bit and Matt glanced up in
dismay. Meeting AJ's worried look, Matt frowned. "Your generator is
running low. I don't know how much time we have left before the lights go
out."
AJ chose not to acknowledge that bit of
information, choosing instead to concentrate on Howie. He repeated his question
to Matt, the desperation in his voice more evident.
"What do we do?"
Matt closed his eyes for a moment in
frustration. Think! he screamed to himself. Think!
He snapped his eyes open when he felt AJ’s
anxious hand on his shoulder. "Okay, okay," Matt said, racking his
brain, trying to remember, trying to visualize. Why hadn’t he listened to
his Dad more?
He glanced at Howie’s unconscious form.
Unconscious. Any unconscious person who remains on his or her back is at
risk of inhaling vomit or having the airway blocked by a relaxed tongue.
Matt started. Where the hell had that come from? Grateful that some of
his dad’s teachings had sunk through, Matt reached over to touch Howie.
"Help me turn him," grunted
Matt, signaling to AJ. "We gotta put him on his side."
"But what if he’s injured bad?"
questioned AJ.
"It won’t matter if he dies from
aspiration from lying on his back!" argued Matt heatedly. "Just do
it!"
Both men crouched around Howie, Matt
instructing AJ how to hold Howie’s head and neck, warning him to support it
with extreme care. "Ready?" AJ nodded. "Okay, one, two,
three!" Using their combined strength they pushed to roll Howie over.
"That’s it, that’s it," encouraged Matt. "Yes! Keep his head
down, yeah, like that, and tilt, here let me do it. See? Tilting his head this
way will cause any vomit to spill out and not down his airway. Okay?
Good."
Confident that Howie was not going to
right himself, Matt motioned to AJ. "Can you see any visible
injures?" he questioned. "Come on, help me look."
With trembling fingers AJ poked and
prodded gently, shaking his head. "I don’t see anything. Shit! I’m not a
doctor! What if…"
AJ’s fearful reply was interrupted by one
of Nick’s. "AJ! What’s happening! What’s going on? Can you see Brian or
Kevin?"
"Nick! Hold on! Howie’s still out,
but Matt and I don’t see any injuries…" The lights flickered once, twice
more, then remained steady.
"Fuck!" swore AJ, breathing
heavily as he glanced wild-eyed at Matt. "We gotta hurry. There’s no
telling how long we have left…"
Matt nodded his agreement, wiping the
nervous sweat from his brow. "Zac!" he yelled out, turning to crane
his neck. "It’s going to be hell in here if the lights go! See if you can
help Nick out through the back window! If you can, come back and help us,
okay?"
Zac shouted back a faint okay, already
struggling to help Nick up from his sitting position. Matt turned back to face
AJ. "How are you? Doing okay?" he eyed AJ up and down critically.
"I’m fine, forget me," hissed
AJ, his eyes glittering with determination. "Let’s find Kevin and
Brian." AJ began to crawl forward, Matt not far behind as they both kicked
and pushed away the scattered and broken remains that blocked their way.
"Who are we looking for?" asked
Matt, scanning the interior restlessly.
"Kevin, Brian. Brian is small,
blonde; Kevin is tall, dark."
"I think I found Kevin,"
breathed Matt.
AJ edged quickly over as Matt scooted
frantically backwards, recoiling from the dark-haired man who was lying
sideways, curled up. Eyeing Matt with surprise, AJ suddenly understood when he
saw Matt raise his hand. It was covered in blood.
***
