Page 132 of Fight or Flight
“Get the fuck out of here before I change my mind and introduce you to my friend,” I warn Mason and pull my butterfly knife out of my pocket.
I don’t flip it open or anything, but the threat is enough that Mason scrambles to his feet and sprints away, leaving his buddies to crawl and stumble after him.
23
JACE
Ignoring their retreating forms,I kneel in front of Shane. “You okay?” I ask, keeping my voice soft so I don’t spook him any more than I have.
He shakes his head.
“What did you take?”
“Percs,” he croaks.
“How many?”
“Three.”
Without knowing the dose of each pill, I can’t be sure if that’s enough to cause an OD. But even at low strength, three pills are enough to fuck him up, even without the copious amounts of alcohol he’s probably had too.
“Anything else?”
He shakes his head.
“Did you drink anything other than alcohol and mix?”
He shakes his head again and sways back and forth a few times.
Gently, I place my fingers on his neck to check his pulse. It’s slow and thready, and his skin is cool and clammy. I can’t be surewithout a way to check, but it looks like his blood pressure is low, which is never a good sign when you mix alcohol and opioids.
“What’s happening to me?” he asks, his words slurring together.
“You’re fucked up on booze and pills.”
“I don’t feel good.”
“That’s because of the booze and pills. Can you get up?”
He shakes his head, but he’s so drunk he moves his shoulders and torso at the same time so it looks like he’s impersonating a sprinkler.
“You have two choices,” I tell him. “You can either try to walk, or I can carry you.”
“You can’t carry me,” he snorts, then lets out a little giggle. “I’m too heavy.”
“I already told you I can bench more than you weigh. I can manage a fireman’s carry.”
“You’re going to carry me all the way back to the dorm?” He blinks at me like a confused lemur. “That’s like, two miles.”
“More like a mile and a half.”
“Same diff.” He waves dismissively. “S’impossible.”
“Not for me.” I drape one of his arms over my shoulder and get up in a crouch. “But I don’t have to carry you all the way to the dorm to get you back there.”
“Huh—Yikes!” he squeals as I stand, holding him in a fireman’s carry.
“Don’t wiggle or I might just drop you on purpose,” I warn and start walking toward the woods.
