Page 17 of Resuscitation
Connor, tears welling up in his eyes from the pain, squeezed his eyes closed. “No…no dying,” he gasped. Connor grabbed his brother’s sleeve with weak fingers. “Don’t…let me…die.”
“You ain’t dying!” Mercer vowed.
Brick, Harper, and Leon lifted Connor onto a door they’d taken off its hinges. Connor groaned and cried out in pain again.
“Careful, careful,” Mercer ordered. He turned to the other crew members, Mark and Tyson. “Clear a path through that crap down there. Go!”
Getting Connor through the maze of piled up junk and out of the mansion into the back of the van seemed to take forever, but they made it.
“Hey, boss, don’t mean to cut to the chase, but you got what you came for?” Brick asked as Mercer hopped into the driver’s seat while the others cared for Connor in the rear. He tried to sound casual, but Mercer wasn’t fooled.
“Yeah, I got them. Now tell me the fastest fucking way to a hospital.”
“Eastfork,” Brick replied from the passenger seat, squinting at his phone map app. “Eastfork Medical Center.”
Mercer drove as fast down the unplowed drive as he could in the terrible conditions, but every bump caused Connor to howl in pain. As they pulled onto the two-lane road, headlights approached them.
“That’s a goddamn security guard,” Brick muttered. “Talk about bad luck.”
The security vehicle flashed its lights and half turned in the narrow road, completely blocking their way.
“Goddamn it,” Mercer’s growled under his breath. He turned his head and shouted to the rest of the crew. “We’ve company. Hold tight!”
Mercer tensed his grip on the steering wheel and picked up speed. The van hit the rear quarter panel of the security car with a loud crack. Then Mercer revved the engine, forcing the smaller vehicle into a culvert along the side of the road.
Mercer sped up again and glanced over his shoulder to the back of the van. “How’s Connor doing?”
Tyson looked up with a grimace, his hands firmly pressed on Connor’s wound. “I dunno, man. He don’t look good. We gotta get to this hospital quick.”
Mercer sped as best he could on the treacherous, slushy surface, finally turning onto a plowed four-lane highway. At last, a chance to pick up speed. Still, the windshield wipers struggled to clear the relentless snowfall, making the headlights nearly useless and visibility limited to a few feet beyond the van’s hood.
In the rearview, a blue flashing caught Mercer’s attention. “Dammit.”
“What is it?” Brick asked.
“Looks like we got some local pigs on our ass. Alright, everyone, weapons ready. Tyson, stay with my brother, you got that?”
“No problem, Alpha,” came the reply.
The sound of the automatic rifles, handguns and MP5s getting checked and reloaded filled the van interior.
Through the blizzard, a sign warning of a narrow, two-lane bridge ahead came into view. Mercer gripped the wheel hard against the buffeting wind, his eyes darting to the rearview and the State Police vehicle in pursuit. The vehicle gained on them rapidly. They were in the wrong vehicle for this shit.
More distant lights in the rearview. More cops.
Mercer shouted at Brick. “Get ‘em off our ass!”
As the nearest police cruiser moved to try and get past them before the lanes reduced to two, Brick rolled down the passenger side window, leaned out with his rifle, and sprayed the police car with bullets. The pursuit vehicle braked, hitting a patch of ice before completely losing control and slamming hood-first into a snowbank.
Mercer nodded with approval, but their small victory was short-lived. Suddenly, the headlights revealed a State Police cruiser ahead of them, blocking the entrance to the two-lane bridge.
Ramming them was the only option. “Hold on!” he shouted as he accelerated hard.
The statie’s lights started flashing, and two troopers jumped out, drawing their sidearms. One cop fired, but the van was closing in on them too quickly.
The front of the van smashed into the first cop with a heavy thump and sent him flying into the air. Mercer swerved and smashed into the cruiser, spinning both vehicles into a skid. The cruiser crashed into the bridge abutment, while Mercer desperately tried to control his fishtailing vehicle and avoid the obstacles on the side of the road.
A sudden jolt sent shockwaves through his bones, his stomach lurching as the van hit something and stopped moving.
