Page 85 of Through The Woods

Chapter Twenty-Three

My eyes fluttered open and I came to as my body jerked to the side. We were no longer outside the lodge, but in a vehicle. A vehicle that was moving very quickly, judging by the way I was being jolted across the seat. Joker kept his eyes on the road, sneaking glances over at me every few seconds.

I wanted to know where Twitch was, but I couldn’t find the words in the heavy fog that had settled over my entire body. The radio played nothing but intermittent static in the background, as if the music was gasping for air.

It took me a minute to realize that the sound was coming from me.

Joker brushed moisture off of his cheeks and shook me to stay awake. I stared up at him in confusion. Bikers didn’t cry, did they?

The light bounced in and out of the truck as it broke through the trees and I watched it, mesmerized by the colors. It didn’t matter how many times I saw it; the sunrises and sunsets were always different. The colors were similar, but slightly varied in shade.

I’d broken my arm when I was eight, attempting a back handspring on the trampoline with my next-door neighbor. The doctors had to put me under to reset my radius, and I remembered lying on the table and being told to count backward from one hundred as they administered the anesthesia.

That was how I felt now—disconnected and drowsy.

I’d never had blow affect me like that before. I’d also never had my face forced into a pile of it. What had Clint said it was laced with?

I lost my train of thought; still seeing the colors of the sunset as they burned through my eyelids. Joker shook me again, harder this time, and my eyes reluctantly opened to stare through the passenger window.

Joker was going to fix everything. He was going to get me help—perhaps I was finally going to meet that elusive mountain doctor. If I stared hard enough, I could just make out the edge of his cabin back in the trees. Charm would find Blade and this whole thing would be something we laughed over during dinner tonight.

The vehicle shook again and my body collided with the stick shift before hitting the seat back. A vehicle was really nothing more than a coffin made of metal and glass.

People who live in glass coffins shouldn’t throw stones.

I smiled at the thought just before my body began convulsing again.

Fir tree

I awoke beside the back wheel of the truck, just as the last rays of daylight began to fade away. I slowly eased myself into a sitting position and found that I felt much better. Maybe I’d vomited all the drugs up. I tentatively touched my forehead, but it was smooth and dry. Joker must’ve gotten the bleeding stopped. I knew he’d come through.

“Joker?” I called out, as I used the wheel well to stand up. I could hear his heavy breathing near the front of the truck as I cautiously approached him.

The poor guy was probably traumatized—it had to have brought up memories of Rae for him. He was on his hands and knees on the asphalt, huffing and puffing.

“Joker? I’m feeling better. I’m so sorry I scared you.” I reached out a hand to touch his shoulder, but it passed through and I stared at it in confusion before stepping around him.

As I did, my other hand came up to my mouth in a gasp. It couldn’t be. Wetness hit my cheeks as I shook my head from side to side. Joker wasn’t on his hands and knees in shock. He was on his hands and knees doing CPR. On me.

There was absolutely no scientific explanation for this—no reason that I should be having an out-of-body experience.

Tears fell from his own face and onto the body that once belonged to me. My face was ashen—cheek bruised and swollen. A stream of dried blood ran from my hairline down to my nose, while white powder clung to my cheek. Joker somehow managed to avoid touching it as he puffed air into my lungs. The eyes that had wanted to remain closed were now wide open, yet unseeing. He continued doing chest compressions and mouth-to-mouth, even as the red and blue lights lit up the highway.

A police officer jumped out and immediately radioed for help, before taking over for Joker when it became apparent that the biker was tiring. An ambulance arrived within minutes and they lifted me off the asphalt.

I couldn’t feel any of it.

I pinched my arm, but my body had gone numb. I feared that this was a nightmare that I wasn’t going to wake up from. Before I could make the choice of whether or not to stay behind with Joker, I was pulled into the ambulance with my body.

The paramedics slapped tape pads onto my chest as the robotic voice of the defibrillator filled the small cabin. “Shock advised. Please stand clear.”

This was going to snap me out of this state. I hovered near the back of the ambulance, wringing my hands. My body gave a small jolt, but nothing happened.

“We’ve got a pulse,” one called to the other.

It didn’t make sense to me—if I had a pulse, then why was I here and my body there?

We arrived at the hospital in Kasselhessen and they rushed me through the sliding doors, but I fought to stay back—to make sure Joker was okay.

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