Page 61 of Volt
“If you hadn’t breached first, it would have been somebody else,” Spyder says “You sacrificed for your team.”
“Yeah, I’m a saint.”
“No, you’re still an asshole,” he says with a grin. “But you’re also more of a leader than you give yourself credit for.”
I chuckle. “Let’s continue this circle jerk later. It’s time to go,” I tell him then announce to the rest, “Grab our shit and let’s get out of here.”
We dash back across the street and to the vans that are waiting for us at the next street over. We toss all the bags into the back and then climb into the van. I lean against the wall, cradling my arm. The blood is still flowing. I can feel it. And the pain is well beyond measure. I suddenly feel light-headed and nauseous.
“You all right?” Adam whispers to me.
“Yeah. I’m good.”
“You don’t look so good, man.”
“I told you, I’m good. It’s all good,” I say. “We scored a big win today.”
Adam nods, and all of a sudden, he’s a blurry image in my vision. I narrow my eyes, trying to focus, but that only makes him seem blurrier. I can hear Adam speaking, but it sounds like he’s at the far end of a very long tunnel. I strain my ears to listen but it only seems to grow worse. And as I lean against the wall of the van, trying to clear my mind, I see the darkness creeping in at the edges of my vision.
And then all at once, the darkness swallowed me whole.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Volt
Groggy and feeling like shit, the sound of raucous laughter pulls me out of the darkness. I rack my brain and try to remember what happened. I recall the raid on Zavala’s stash house and taking a bullet when I came through the door. We finished our mission and then at some point on the way back, I must have passed out.
I shake my head and look around and see that I’m in Doc’s infirmary. The lights are dimmed, leaving most of the room cloaked in shadows and gloom. There’s just enough to see by though, and I look at the bandage wrapped tight around my arm. There’s a faint red spot on the cloth. I slide off the table and find the T-shirt and flannel Doc had thoughtfully left out for me. I gingerly pull them on then feel a wave of dizziness wash over me. I have to take a minute to get my feet under me again.
When I feel steady enough, I walk out of the infirmary and see the guys all gathered around a bonfire in the middle of the compound. The sky is beginning to lighten overhead though the cloud cover is still thick and the air smells like rain is coming. I watch as Adam tosses another brick of Zavala’s heroin into the bonfire to the cheers of everybody around him.
When they spot me ambling across the compound to them, they raise their bottles and cheer for me. I give them a crooked grin.
“There he is,” Spyder says. “Our intrepid leader.”
“Eat shit,” I say.
“Looks like you already did, brother. Jesus, you look like hell,” he replies.
“Yeah, let me shoot you and see how you feel.”
“I’ll still be damn pretty,” Spyder says with a grin.
“You shouldn’t be up yet.”
I turn around to find Doc walking out of the clubhouse toward me. I drop down onto one of the picnic tables and try to gather myself. Doc sits down next to me.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“Like hell.”
“You lost a lot of blood. That’s why you passed out in the van.”
“Great, just one more thing for them to give me shit about.”
Doc chuckles and nods. “That’s what they do.”
Though he’s still tense and angry, he seems somewhat lighter than he has since the day Prophet was murdered. It’s an improvement. I wonder if the results of this guerilla campaign we’ve been getting had lessened the burden on his shoulders. Not entirely, of course. That burden isn’t going to be lifted until Zavala’s dead. But it seems like it’s eased somewhat. Which is good.
