Heh heh, and you thought we were dead.
I know, I'm sorry, that was mean.
But aren't you happy we're alive?!
You should probably re-read that chapter title, though; here's a hint: it's not cheerful. I'm not suicidal or anything; it just means I'm gonna have to face death again at some point over the next month.
Okay, never mind, you don't get it.
Whoopy, we survived!
Thank the Gods!
Okay, enough enthusiasm, back to just barely escaping with our lives.
* * *
All was still. All was quiet. (Isn't that poetic? I'm really getting better at this whole storytelling thing.)
I pried my eyes open, ready to march my way through those pearly white gates and ready to throw one heck of a fit if they didn't let me in. But you know what I saw instead?
Blood.
Lots and lots of blood.
Jeez, they talk up heaven quite a lot; this place is a dump.
Wait, never mind, we were alive, that was it.
False alarm, still haven't made it to heaven yet!
Derek was slouched over the steering wheel, a deflated airbag pinned between the wheel and his chest. He had a gash across his right eyebrow and some glass embedded in his cheek and forearm.
I forced my stiff neck left, seeing the three little kids in the back seat. They were a bit bloody but nothing too serious from the looks of it.
Then my mind reeled at the thought of Charlie.
"Charlie." I groaned, forcing the words out of my scratchy throat.
I fumbled with numb fingers at my seatbelt, one side ripped from the seat, only requiring one buckle to be undone.
I pulled myself forward using his seat and peered around the edge.
He was slumped against the window, where his head touched; it was spiderwebbing away, blood-spattered across the glass.
I grabbed his shoulder, shaking it with as much force as I could muster. There was a groan, but it wasn't coming from Charlie.
I'd missed Tyler.
Sitting back, I realized how I'd skipped him.
He wasn't there.
The seatbelt had been severed, the cushion shredded where he had been sitting.
"Tyler?" I groaned a little louder.
I looked up at where sunlight was streaming through the Hummer.
The sunroof had been shattered. He must have been ejected.
I shoved my door open, falling out clumsily onto the feathery grass.
"Tyler?" My aching throat managed, rising in panic.
That son of a bitch better be alive, especially after all this shit I went through for him.
I took a flying leap off a cliff... in a Hummer.
You don't drive off a cliff in a 6,600-pound vehicle for a friend.
