Luckily, the other meth cookers were too busy with the mess in the lab to notice him. He gently rolled Bruenner over onto her back. Her face was deathly pale and smudged with dirt and grime. The massive blood stain on the front of her shirt marked the spot where she'd bled out. The bullet had probably nicked her heart. That, at least, was a saving grace: he wouldn't have to perform minor surgery. He grunted and groaned as he picked Bruenner up and cradled her against his chest.
It took some doing, but Lance managed to open the passenger door to the Jeep and maneuvered Bruenner into the seat. He fastened her seatbelt, hopefully holding her in place. He tugged her jacket closed, trying to disguise the massive stain across her chest. He had just about to get in on his side when the lab exploded with a boom that set off the Hummer's security system. Lance drew his weapon again, and fired. The tires hissed as air leaked from bullet holes. Even if anyone survived the blast, they weren't going to get very far without the SUV.
He jammed the key into the ignition, twisted, and the Jeep's engine roared to life. He then raced back down the abandoned logging trail as fast as he could. The big, thick tires of the Jeep absorbing most of the impacts from roots and rocks, but he couldn't afford to blow one of those now.
He was just about to turn onto the highway in the direction of his house when a very faint tingle zinged up the back of his neck. Lance jammed the Jeep into first and killed the engine. Without a second thought, he ripped open the front of Bruenner's once-blue shirt. Despite the obvious, copious, amount of blood, he could see tiny blue sparks of lightning criss-crossing her chest.
He couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. He hadn't been entirely certain she was pre-Immortal. Now would come the inevitable questions about Immortality, but first, he had to get her home.
It took him three tries to get the Jeep started again, before he remembered to engage the clutch. He was still in a daze when he pulled up the driveway nearly two hours later. Rather than carry her through the front door, in full view of the neighborhood, he got out and opened the back gate wide enough to drive the 4x4 through and up to the back deck. Bruenner was still not breathing by the time he managed to carry her into the bathroom. As he waited for the tub to fill with water, he gently eased her out of her ruined clothes. That was a task easier said than done. It was one thing to have a willing participant, and something else entirely for said participant to be, for all intents and purposes, deceased.
![[info]](https://www.scribbld.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
jurisimmortalis's journal
It took some doing, but Lance managed to open the passenger door to the Jeep and maneuvered Bruenner into the seat. He fastened her seatbelt, hopefully holding her in place. He tugged her jacket closed, trying to disguise the massive stain across her chest. He had just about to get in on his side when the lab exploded with a boom that set off the Hummer's security system. Lance drew his weapon again, and fired. The tires hissed as air leaked from bullet holes. Even if anyone survived the blast, they weren't going to get very far without the SUV.
He jammed the key into the ignition, twisted, and the Jeep's engine roared to life. He then raced back down the abandoned logging trail as fast as he could. The big, thick tires of the Jeep absorbing most of the impacts from roots and rocks, but he couldn't afford to blow one of those now.
He was just about to turn onto the highway in the direction of his house when a very faint tingle zinged up the back of his neck. Lance jammed the Jeep into first and killed the engine. Without a second thought, he ripped open the front of Bruenner's once-blue shirt. Despite the obvious, copious, amount of blood, he could see tiny blue sparks of lightning criss-crossing her chest.
He couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. He hadn't been entirely certain she was pre-Immortal. Now would come the inevitable questions about Immortality, but first, he had to get her home.
It took him three tries to get the Jeep started again, before he remembered to engage the clutch. He was still in a daze when he pulled up the driveway nearly two hours later. Rather than carry her through the front door, in full view of the neighborhood, he got out and opened the back gate wide enough to drive the 4x4 through and up to the back deck. Bruenner was still not breathing by the time he managed to carry her into the bathroom. As he waited for the tub to fill with water, he gently eased her out of her ruined clothes. That was a task easier said than done. It was one thing to have a willing participant, and something else entirely for said participant to be, for all intents and purposes, deceased.