(Edited October 28th 2008 – Due to the fact it's been three years since this version of the story was written, I wanted to apologize in advance for the shoddy quality that readers will be enduring from the second chapter and on, but I promise under the lame quality there’s a good story. I wrote this version during the summer between 9th and 10th grade, I'm in my second year of college now so bear with me on the old, crappy sections of this story left, they will be gradually replaced by edited text in this story rather than a seperate link to newer work. The first version of this story was a thirty five page Notepad file I wrote when I was thirteen, full of very spiteful, hateful shit that didn't go anywhere - since then it's evolved into something completely different within the same context, and it's incredible to me something so negative could be spun into something positive. I sincerely thank everyone who's ever taken a few minutes to read a little bit of this story, this story has been particularly close to me and I can’t describe how grateful I am to have someone take the time to read it.)

He could hear the hum of rubber on asphalt before his eyes opened, mind lost somewhere between the bumpy ride of an old freeway road and the whispering, something that sounded almost like a checklist. This couldn’t be a dream, he never dreamed.. and even if it was, he shouldn’t have been able to feel the way his body was being slammed back and forth between cold metal and something leathery – nothing was supposed to hurt in dreams, right? There was a terrible pain in his wrist, and as a chill began to creep over his skin, it awakened another shooting pain that wrapped itself around his spine, spreading in every direction. When the pain reached his head, almost involuntarily, his eyes opened.

He was slumped over in the passenger’s seat of a van he recognized far too well, his feet grazing against a floor mat and a box of ammunition he had used to load his guns with, carrying around the extra in his pocket along with all the other rounds he had already stocked up on. His arms were hanging limply next to him, and around one wrist, he saw a piece of ripped white cloth wrapped so tightly around it he could have sworn his hand had changed colors, at least the skin he could see – he didn’t have to guess what the vibrant red stains were. Very slowly, he straightened his back against the chair and raised his head, staring out at a nearly empty highway tucked in between layers and layers of trees. He knew exactly where he was.. he wasn’t too far away from school.

There was whispering again. He turned his head to his left and could see his friend driving. His hands were tightly wrapped around the wheels, knuckles red and white as he stared forward intently, the flesh around his eyes a deep red. His eyes were almost like he was in a trance, something Jeremy had seen before – a mix of panic, grief and absolute horror was clinging to his skin in the form of sweat and tears. Jeremy didn’t know if his friend had detached, reverting to a shivering catatonic mess as he had in previous fucked up situations like this. Whether or not he had dissociated, he was still talking, and though calling out his name could be a shot in the dark, he had a feeling he’d get somewhere this time.

“Sam?”

Almost immediately, his head snapped to the right, his eyes glazed over in pain. He blinked, continuing to look at Jeremy. Jeremy gently raised his hand and waved. Blinking again, tears seemed to squeeze themselves out from between his lids as Sam looked back to the road, taking a deep breath and letting his grip on the wheel loosen as he exhaled, a grin spreading across his face.

“Shit, Jeremy. I thought you were dead.”

“Almost.”

“I thought… I thought they’d fucking killed you.”

“Who?”

“Cops.”

Cops? He shot a glance to his wrist, still wrapped in the cloth. He’d had a bullet from a police sniper imbedded in the place where a gaping wound now was. Wait - if he wasn’t mistaken, that wasn’t the only place he’d been shot…

“Getting that bullet out of your back was hard… good thing it wasn’t anywhere too serious. More like your shoulder, I guess,” Sam said.

Ah, that was it. “Still hurts like a bitch, though. Did you get hit at all?”

“No.. fucking bastards. Would have made it easier for us if that had just taken us out then and there though, huh?”

The sound of a faint cough caught Jeremy’s attention. Looking over the shoulder he had been wounded in, he glimpsed into the back of the van, the space between the chairs and back windows stretching on for what felt like miles, shadows nearly blacking out the corners. But very suddenly, movement caught his eye and he saw the small frame of someone curled up against the side of the van, next to the spare tire. Blue jeans, a dark sweater, another set of blood stained hands wrapped around the knees brought up to his chin, one hand pressed hard against a dark patch of denim. Jeremy watched as he raised his head, eyes peaking out just over his knees, face looking as furious as Jeremy’s must have earlier that morning.

But there was something different… he knew who this person in the back of the van was. He’d seen him before. It couldn’t have been another senior - he was way too small. There was nothing he had against him, he had just been someone he had known. And there were only a handful of people he had spoken to without feeling like he was being beaten into a corner… and there was only one person he knew that could have been so small.

“David?”

He didn’t speak; he turned away, hiding his face again. Jeremy glanced down at the dark patch in David’s jeans, only taking a moment for him to realize it was blood – and by the way David had a hand covering it, it only took Jeremy another moment to realize he had been shot.

“David? Are you okay?”

He still refused to look up, the grip his hands had on his knees becoming tighter and his face burying deeper away. Jeremy felt a gentle tap on his shoulder, drawing his attention from David back to Sam.

“Just let him fume. He’s in total shock,” Sam said quietly.

“What the hell was he doing in the gym? He was supposed to be on some photo club field trip.”

“Got cancelled.”

“What? How do you know that?”

“I asked him. I was a little bit surprised to see him there, too – didn’t know it was him ‘til I hit a girl in front of him and he screamed my name. Had to figure out who he was after that.”

Jeremy looked over his shoulder again, looking at how dark and heavy David’s clothes were, how his hair looked crusty and how there was something smeared on his face.

“God.. he’s drenched in blood,” Jeremy whispered.

“Eh, what can I say. We were madmen out there.”

Before he could reply, the sound of a siren and the sudden flashing of lights startled the three. Jeremy spun around in his seat, staring out through the back window to see two officers following the car, one directly behind the van and the other inching up closer to the van in the opposite lane.

“Aw, fuck,” Sam muttered. He swerved towards the right, leaving the highway on the off-ramp that had luckily come up so quick. One of the officers followed behind – it wouldn’t be long until there was a swarm of them.

This off-ramp was familiar, too.. it was towards campgrounds and a shooting range that Jeremy, Sam and Sam’s father had visit so many times. There was nothing between the ramp and the campgrounds but ten miles of windy uphill roads.

“Sam? Where are we going? There’s no way out over here,” Jeremy said.

Sam grinned again. “Yeah.. we’re kind of fucked. I guess we’re just going to have to do something drastic.”

“What?”

Another set of sirens began – there was a multitude of flashing lights behind them.

“We’re going over a ledge.”

“What?!”

“We're going to go over a ledge. They’re not that big of a fall. And when we hit the ground, you and David need to get out and start running, okay? You have to run as quick as you can, run out and head back to town in the woods. It’s a long walk but it’s the only way.”

“Why? What the hell are you going to do? This isn’t what’s supposed to happen… why don’t we just pull over and just.. take care of the jobs ourselves? We have enough ammunition left. I made sure we would.”

Sam shook his head and reached his hand down towards the bottom of his seat, picking up a long, black coat that had been lying on the floor.

“David,” Sam said. From over his shoulder, Jeremy saw David look up. Sam tossed the coat back towards him, aiming for as close as he could. "Here, put this on. It'll be cold when you guys have to walk to the police station."

“The police station? What the fuck is going on?!”

“Jeremy, just listen to me and do what I say, goddamn it. It’ll be okay.”

“The second we step foot into a police station, we’re getting locked up for the rest of our lives.”

“Not one’s getting arrested. You tell them I kidnapped you both. I’ll disappear for a little while… you know how I’m good at managing on my own out in the woods. We’ll meet up and finish this together, but not like this. Not while we’re getting chased. It’s our decision, not theirs.”

“Sam, no. No. That’s not going to work. They’ll catch you out here, they might just kill you on the spot and not even bother taking you to jail. I can’t let people blame you for all this, you’ve taken too much shit for me. I won’t let them pin all this on you.”

“Yes you goddamn will, Jeremy! Just please do this for me. Please.”

Jeremy was breathless, continuing to stare at Sam in disbelief. What the hell was he talking about?! How he could be saying this now? There was no way Sam was hiding out in the woods, police would be searching for him. It was impossible. There was just no way. Sam turned his head towards Jeremy, intentionally slowing down so he could keep eye contact.

“Don’t worry. It’ll all work out, you’ll see. I promise.”

It was stupid, he knew it was… but Sam had never lied to him, not once. And he couldn’t deny the request of someone who had been so trustworthy to him.. especially when he had the overwhelming feeling that it would be the last thing Sam would ever ask him. Fighting the urge to kick and scream at the idea, sadly, Jeremy nodded.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Do it.”

Setting his sights back onto the road, Sam prepared himself.

“I suggest you find something to hold onto – David, get up here and hold onto one of the seats,” Sam said.

To his surprise, Jeremy watched as David scooted up behind his seat and grabbed onto the metal securing the seat to the ground. Jeremy buckled himself in, grasping the door handle and underneath his seat.

“Alright.. hold on.”

Sam stomped down on the gas pedal and held the wheel straight, letting the van crash through old, weak guardrails, sailing through the air for a few seconds before sitting the ground with a hard thud. It began to roll down the incline of the hill, causing the windows to shatter, and crashing into a tree as to make it’s final stop, the van upside down.

Almost immediately David had begun to try clawing his way out through a broken window, but large pieces of sharp glass still left in the frames cut his hands. Unbuckling first, Sam lowered himself down, his arm laced with shards and slivers of glass, blood immediately filling and spilling out over his skin and down to the overturned ceiling in large, loud drops. Not even slightly phased by such injuries, Sam slid towards Jeremy, who hung suspended between the ceiling and the seat by the belt he’d clicked into place moments before, his head spinning in the wake of a concussion.

He felt hands pressed against his stomach, patting him and simultaneously curving as they traveled towards his sides, one of the hands finally feeling the seatbelt digging into his skin and unbuckling him. The same hands suddenly had a tight grip under his arms and were pulling him forward, their support keeping him from having fallen face first from the passenger seat into the ceiling.

His eyes opened, the colors of everything around him blending together into unrecognizable shapes until the reflection of the sun off shattered glass seared itself into his skull, bringing everything into a sharp focus. He was lying on his back now, staring up at the floor of the van, his ears ringing and stomach flipping in every direction possible. Sam’s pale figure leaned over him, pulling him up by the fabric above his shoulders.

“Jeremy?” he asked again, cold sweat traveling down the side of his face and following the curve of his jaw.

Pain began to flood throughout his body, his eyelids momentarily squeezing themselves shut. “Yeah.”

“You go first, go out through here and don’t stop running until you’re in the trees. Hide and wait for David, and when he gets there run as fast as you can. I’ll go after him. Just run and don’t look back, I’ll be right behind you, just keep fucking running even if sounds quiet behind you.” Sam gestured towards the opening made by the shattered windshield.

“But where will w-“ Jeremy was interrupted.

“We’ll figure it out, just go, NOW.”

Sam got onto his feet, crouching down so he could drag Jeremy across the ceiling and to the exit. Jeremy scrambled to his feet, bending his body and taking one step out before he paused, giving Sam one last look before he took a second step and the countless more that filled the space between the two, his pounding feet against the ground leaving nothing behind but settling dust.

….....

Aches were settling into his bruised body as he motionlessly remained pressed up against the passenger seat, the wound in his side reminding David of it’s presence and how it had come to be there as he watched Sam remain crouched down. As soon as Jeremy had successfully escaped, Sam turned his body towards David, slowly motioning with cut up and bleeding hands to move forward. Standing himself up and taking slow, timid steps towards the thing he had just seen cover everything in his field of vision and left echoing gunfire in his ears, he was legitamently surprised when Sam took his hand and opened up his palm to see fresh, red scratches, even more so when Sam suddenly pulled a knife out from his tightly laced boots.

Immediately jerking backwards, Sam moved his fingers from hand to wrist, holding David firmly in place and taking another glance at his palm. Releasing David’s wrist, Sam took an already ripped white t-shirt and began to tear at it again, pulling out long pieces of fabric and taking David’s hand again, now wrapping the fabric around his palms.

“This kind of shit will get infected real fast,” he said quietly. “Make sure you get first aid as soon as possible.” Looking briefly to his side, he saw a black mass of fabric in the corner that he quickly snatched and pushed up against David’s chest. “Better wear that too. You’ll freeze to death.”

“Thank you…” David said quietly, swallowing the small bit of saliva that had pooled in his mouth.

“It’s okay. Get out, you don’t have that much time,” Sam said, reaching his arm out and cupping his hand on David’s shoulder, gently pushing him towards the escape where glass still hung jagged in the corners.

“But what about you? Aren’t you getting out?” David asked, briefly making eye contact with the weathered blonde that remained crouched down amongst bullet shells and shards of glass that used to make up the windshield, unable to keep himself from noticing the droplets of bright red that had spread onto every surface he could see.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

Before David could even form his next thought, Sam grabbed him and gave him a final push towards the exit, the sound of approaching sirens triggering panic and sending David running towards the trees, following the same direction he’d just seen Jeremy flee.

….......

Lost in the fresh air, emerging bloodstained from a destroyed machine and shattered glass, Jeremy began to run towards the trees. He didn’t know where he was going, he didn’t know what he was doing. The air was so cold it nearly burned his throat on it’s way down, sinking into his damp clothes and chilling him at the bone. His mouth was dry, heavily panting as he ran, choking on the breath he tried so hard to keep as he felt the ground under him begin to angle upwards, feet sliding just slightly in the loose dirt and rocks. His legs began to shake violently as the incline shifted farther upward, folding under his weight and sending him momentarily sprawled onto the ground. His hands shot out to his sides to find brush, roots, branches, anything he could grab to pull himself forward.

A tiny whimper came from his throat, stinging pain spreading past the wound in his shoulder and into the majority of his back. His head was fucking aching. His racing thoughts couldn’t keep up with his ragged breaths, trying to form something about David, something about being behind these trees…

The sirens that tore through the quiet he’d found snapped him back into his thoughts, ignoring the pain in his limbs and pulling himself up to his feet before positioning himself behind the bushes and trees, peering beyond branches to watch for David. The sound grew louder, more abundant, no doubt there was surely an entire fucking fleet of police on their way here… where the fuck was David?!

Jeremy heard the crashing footsteps on the hard ground below him and saw David as he came running, the sound of his feet hitting the ground in rhythm with Jeremy’s rapid heartbeat, nearly mistaking the boy for Sam under the long, black coat he was in. As David crouched down behind the bush Jeremy hid behind, trying to catch his breath, the sirens inching closer towards the scene became too close for any sort of comforting, sending Jeremy into panic. He grabbed onto David’s shoulder, pulling the rough fabric of the coat between his fingers and yanking David up to continue running.

“Come on, we gotta go, we gotta keep running, Sam will catch up,” Jeremy said, his back turned towards the sound of sirens.

“Jeremy, he’s not coming out…” David breathily said, barely able to speak.

He shot a glare to David. “Don’t pull that shit. Come on, let’s go.”

“He’s not coming out… he’s… I don’t know what he’s doing.. but he’s not coming...”

Angrily biting back an accusation of lying, Jeremy turned around and looked down to the overturned van. Any chance of Sam escaping was shattered by the sight of one – two – no, four police cars pulling up and surrounding the van, officers getting up and out of their cars, screaming into radios and drawing their weapons as more officers were radioed in.

“He’ll surrender. He’ll come out. Fuck, he’ll get out,” Jeremy said quietly, his eyes fixed as intently as David’s upon the kicked out windshield.

The two watched as Sam pulled himself from the window they had crawled from seconds earlier, watching him take a few stumbling steps away from the van, the severity of the cuts on his arms visible even from their considerable distance. Sam lifted his head, seeming to only become aware of the officers that surrounded him when he heard the sounds of guns cocking, voices screaming at him to put his hands up into the air. His mouth shifted into a small grin, his stare unbroken by officers, face pale and eyes bright and red from tears. His grin widened, moving his hands towards his back pockets, looking as if he was already taking the position of being handcuffed.

Before there had been any time to react, there were bullets spraying from the two guns now in his hands, working their way from the outside in on the line of men, firing round after round as the police returned the favor. The guns fell from Sam’s hands, bullets passing through him and hitting the van, his feet kicking up dirt as he fell backwards, head slamming into the ground and body going limp.

Jeremy’s eyes went wide, jaw slowly pulling itself down to the ground as a scream gripped and paralyzed his throat. He might as well of considered that sudden stiffness in his limbs a blessing; had he screamed, he would’ve given away their location. He watched as officers slowly moved in, guns still drawn, kicking the guns near Sam’s hands away from the body and coming down closer. One man put his gun to the side and put two of his fingers to the vein on Sam’s neck, each person on the scene sighing with relief as he shook his head no.

“Jeremy?” he heard David whisper.

He felt the first tears spill from the corner of his eyes, his stomach flipping and curling in pain, body shaking furiously as warm acid crept its way up his throat and came from his mouth, doing everything he could to keep himself from starting to sob. He hadn’t just seen… no, he know he hadn’t… no, no… no, he must’ve been hit with tasers, there’s no way the cops would kill the only suspect they had…

A small hand tugged on his sleeve. “Jeremy?”

“hm?” quietly pushed past his strained, sore vocal chords.

“Come on… don’t stay. Don’t watch this,” David said.

His eyes followed the officers surrounding his unmoving friend, several injured while the rest phoned for back up and ambulances that he could already hear making their way to the scene. It was only when one of the officers flipped Sam onto his stomach, searching through his pockets for more weapons, did Jeremy see the massive bloodstain that took the shape of Sam’s body more thoroughly than any chalk outline could have. He was limp, unmoving, silent, eyes closed and t-shirt practically destroyed by the dozens of exit wounds that riddled his back.

He finally noticed the lump in his throat as David once again pulled on his sleeve, pleading that they go, get out of here before the police bring in search dogs. Knowing David was right, he turned away and began to take steep steps forward, pushing through the thick brush covering his feet and heading uphill, walking as fast as he could will himself to farther into the dark, secluded woods, grimacing as he saw the first of many patches of snow that clung to the side of the hills.