Page 26 of No Sweeter Poison

Shards of glass cover my skin and the left side of my head is pounding. All over my body aches and pulses like I’ve been thrown down several flights of stairs. Something wet dribbles down the side of my face and when I touch my temple, my fingers come back red. Distantly, I register the sound of my name.

Dahlia

Dahlia

Dahlia

Maybe I've imagined it. I try turning my head but everything hurts. Before the panic settles in, I take deep breaths and attempt to calm down. We’re on a highway, we got hit, it was an accident. Other people could be hurt and we need to get help.

Little by little, I start to move. No broken toes, legs, fingers, or arms. Bruised, maybe, but nothing fatal. It’s so strange because I could’ve sworn I counted three hits from three different sides. Not to mention I see the highway barrier to my left. We should’ve flipped over. The car should’ve exploded. One of us should’ve flown out the window.

Or maybe that only happens in the movies.

Slowly, I shift my head but not much can be seen beyond the airbags.

“Alejandro…”

I unbuckle my seatbelt and by some miracle, manage to open the door. As soon as I step out, my knees give out beneath me and I land on the asphalt, covered in crushed glass. Thick smoke and blinding headlights obscure my vision as I crawl over to the driver’s side door and open it. To my surprise, Alejandro steps out, head and left arm bleeding, likely from when he crashed into his window. He’s not nearly as disoriented as I am but then again, the rumors about the passenger’s side always getting it the worst in an accident must be true.

“Dahlia!” He drops to his knees in front of me and wraps an arm around my waist. “Can you stand?”

“I’m fine…go. Go! Check the other cars. Leave me here. I’ll be fine.”

He’s wasting precious seconds taking account of every cut and scrape on my body when there could be people bleeding out in their vehicles right now.

“We can’t stay here.” There’s an urgency in his voice that makes alarm bells ring in the back of my head. “Can you stand?”

“I already told you, I’m fine. We need to call—”

Gunfire explodes in my ears and this time, I do scream.

Bullets fly through the air and hit metal with a deafening pop. Alejandro and I are by the front of the car and he produces a gun at out of nowhere, firing into the white smoke ahead of us. A face materializes beyond the lights and I see him clear as day; pale skin, dark hair, scarred lip, assault rifle resting on his shoulder. Behind him is a tanner, fairer-haired man with eyes so dark they bleed into the night.

The shorter one fires his gun and Alejandro pushes me down to the ground, a grunt leaving his lips as we land on the asphalt. My shirt soaks through in seconds, blood spreading across my chest, but it isn’t mine.

It’s his.

“Shit,” he groans as he tries moving the injured shoulder. “Had to be my right arm.”

“Oh my God,” I reach out and press my hand against the wound, applying as much pressure as I can. “Alejandro.”

Without thinking, I remove my blouse, revealing the camisole underneath, and tie the fabric around his injury, attempting to slow down the blood loss. He winces when I tighten the knot a second time.

At the end of the road, a car flies down the highway, honking furiously as its headlights flash in the darkness. Alejandro sits up and leans against the side of the driver’s side door as he reaches into his pocket and produces another magazine. He switches it out with the empty one almost as easily as someone would switch their socks. “When I start shooting, run toward that car.”

Is he insane?

I can’t think straight. Adrenaline makes me forget the pain and the delirium and suddenly, everything is too bright and vibrant for my eyes to take. It feels like my skull is going to split in half.

“But your shoulder—”

“I said go.”

He doesn’t give me time to argue.

He gets up and starts shooting and between fight or flight, my body chooses flight. I manage to pull myself to my feet and run in the opposite direction. The car down the road is fast approaching but I don’t reach it in time.

Someone fires in my direction and I scream, jumping behind the nearest vehicle for cover when I lose my balance and hit my head.