Nexus [COMPLETE]

48. Domare

"Winston!" I cried out! "I can't see!"

"I know!" he replied. "Just get-!"

If I thought the sun hurt, nothing compared to the explosion of agony that emerged from Winston's side of the bond as Michael rushed out from the stairwell behind us, faster than either of us could track, and jabbed a syringe in my slayer's left eye. I hoped that I was wrong as I stumbled in the direction of my slayer's sudden shriek of pain, but the chemical scent on the air told me something truly terrifying.

That syringe was full of undiluted Nexus.

I didn't get there in time enough to stop Michael from emptying the contents into Winston's brain, but I did reach Michael, gripping whatever part of him I could manage and ripping it off. A new whale of agony filled the air, as I dropped whatever limb that I was holding and reached out for Winston, whose own pain was on the verge of knocking us both unconscious.

"I still have Hazel," he said around an agonized sound. He sounded like a tortured animal. I never wanted to hear that sound from him again, but he made it again hardly a second later.

"Fuck, I can't see!" I growled, gripping my slayer's arm.

"I still have one good eye," Winston said, staggering into me, "but I can't focus. My head is on fire. My ears are ringing."

It was probably a miracle that his head wasn't exploding. That he was standing at all and able to speak was a miracle in and of itself, but I heard the patter of gunfire in the distance.

In the interest of not wasting our breath, I thought: I'll be our ears. You be our eye.

God, we suck! Winston replied around a hysterical laugh.

Is the needle still in your head? I asked, dragging Winston in some unknown direction. He followed without protest, so I assumed that it was a good one.

I think it came out when you ripped off Michael's arm. I'm not sure if my eye is still there though.

Michael was probably curled up in the sand behind us. I couldn't be sure. I was far more focused on just keeping us moving, but I knew that there wasn't much hope. We would be found at this rate, if not because we had no idea where were going, then because we'd pass out in the sand before we had any chance of getting away.

"Holy shit, y'all look bad!" came a familiar voice, and I nearly cried in relief.

"Brucker!" Winston groaned, finally dropping Hazel in the sand, unable to carry her any further. "Fucking help!"

"I got a truck," Brucker said.

"You're my favorite slayer, Brucker," I gasped, clutching my ribs as one suddenly snapped itself back into place.

"I don't have the energy to be offended, Winston said. "Get us the hell out of here!"

"Wait here," Brucker said, and I heard his retreating footsteps as he took off somewhere to our left. Then, the roar of an engine filled my ears. It was the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard. I stood stock still as the roaring thing came closer to us, finally coming to a halt, just when I was about ready to turn tail and run.

A few unfamiliar sounds graced my ears as Brucker opened the door and jumped out of the driver's seat. He managed to haul all three of us into the back of the truck and told us to stay down for a while.

Well, that was fun, Winston thought moments later as the truck started moving beneath us. We were all sprawled on our backs in the back of the truck, pressed to the cool metal. I heard the flapping of fabric overhead. The truck bed was probably covered in a tarp of some sort. I groaned as my stomach went all funny, not agreeing at all with the unfamiliar movement.

Oh, Domare, I don't need nausea on top of a brain full of chemicals and your blindness and broken ribs.

I would have laughed had I been able. Trust Winston to still have a sense of humor even on the brink of death.

Should have kept his arm as a souvenir, I thought back, too tired to feel properly angry about Michael. He probably got away.

Winston's end of our bond suddenly went dead. I mean dead, dead: as dark and empty as I'd ever felt it.

"Winston!" I growled, shuffling over in his direction and blindly reaching out to him. I felt what I hoped was his arm and was rewarded when my fingers slid down searchingly to grip his wrist. I felt for a pulse and found one, but it was far too faint.

Despair overcame me, and I sobbed suddenly.

"You can't die," I said pressing my face to his arm, but I didn't have the luxury to worry over him for long. Seconds later, the sound of gunshots filled the air and I heard the bullets ripping through the tarp flapping above us. I heard Brucker swearing even through the metal walls of the truck's interior. We had to be getting close to the gate.

The truck jolted violently beneath us, and my body bounced alarmingly high, before slamming back onto the metal bed. The uneven rivulets of metal slammed against my chest, possibly doing even more damage to my rib cage. I desperately dragged Winston closer to me, and reached out for Grandmother as well, latching onto whatever part of her that I could and pulling her closer. I couldn't risk us hitting another bump and have one of them flying out of the back. God knew I would never leave either of them behind.

I heard shouting and gunfire from people outside, accompanying the whipping wind as we sped away from Pluto. It wasn't until the explosions started that I realized we were done for. Brucker hit the breaks as the first shock wave hit and our bodies slid shockingly fast and slammed into the cab of the truck. My head and shoulders took the majority of the force, the metal crunching around my body, and my vision went black before I even had time to acknowledge the last vestiges of pain that my body could fathom.