peeling Cyler's jacket off of him.
Patrick eyed Huxley with concern before going back to observing outside with trepidation. “We’re vulnerable here. We need to get out and run,” he said.
“The door is jammed shut, I already tried,” Maverick replied. Huxley gently pushed me onto Patrick’s lap before taking off his shirt. He started wrapping his fist in the cloth and twisted his torso to face the large window behind him, already cracked from the impact. I squeezed my eyes shut as he wound back, every muscle in his back rippling with control and strength. The next thing I heard was the crunching of glass and a quick grunt.
Opening my eyes, I watched as he kicked out the remaining glass before unwrapping his hand. A shard of glass broke through the improvised glove, and I leaned forward to ease it out of his knuckle, wincing when he grunted from the pain. “I’ll get out first. Hand me a knife or something,” he said while outstretching his hand. Kemper handed over the only weapon he had, a knife that was the length of my forearm, with jagged edges. “Fuck, that looks like it hurt,” Kemper cursed. Huxley put his shirt back on after holstering the knife in his pants, then leaned forward to plant a smoldering kiss on my lips. “I’m going to do a perimeter check, then I want Patrick to help ease you out of the window.”
“Okay,” I whispered, my head pounding too hard for loud sounds.
It took some strategic maneuvering to get Huxley’s large body out of the window, but he moved efficiently. The moment he was out, Jacob sat up with a jolt, finally waking up. He rubbed his head, blinking a few times as his mindspeak provided an amusing commentary. “Oh my God, what the fuck happened? Okay. Legs? Check. Dick? Yep. Still there. Arms, stiff, but check. Head? Fuck, what is that goddamn pounding?” He started looking around the transport, but it was obvious he was struggling to see. “Ash? Ash! Ash, are you okay?” His mindspeak was moving in rapid succession, barely keeping up with the questions he was firing off.
“I’m okay,” I whispered as Patrick stroked my hair. He was still looking outside, but neither of us could see Huxley as he did a perimeter check. Jacob sighed and reached out to grab my knee.
“Thank goodness,” his mindspeak said.
“Can you get off me now?” Kemper pleaded. Jacob reeled back as if just realizing he was halfway in Kemper’s lap. If everything weren’t so dire, I would have laughed.
They shifted, but there wasn’t really much room for them to move. When the transport took a nosedive, the front half of it crunched on impact. Thankfully, the only thing that got trapped when the transport collided with the ground was Cyler’s arm. We were confined to the back half. Cyler groaned as Maverick tried setting his arm. “He’s going to need a healing pod,” Maverick said with sadness.
“There was a hospital in Galla about an hour’s walk from Stonewell Manor. Assuming it hasn’t been destroyed, we could take him there,” I said as hope bled through my words. Everything in the empire was destroyed. The healing pod was bulky and awkward to move, so I doubted anyone stole it unless they had a crane. But there was still a good chance that it was no longer functioning, or that the clinic was leveled during the riots.
“We’re about a three hour walk from Galla,” Kemper said while looking at his tablet. Huxley poked his head through the missing window.
“All clear.”
Sighing in relief, I squeezed Patrick’s hand, which was propped on my thigh. I then worked my way through the window, moving feet first as my head pounded. Huxley grabbed me on the outside, and the twins eased me out of the window with care. The moment my feet landed on dirt, I stretched my stiff muscles and helped Huxley get everyone else out of the transport. Cyler was the most difficult to move. Every jolt of his body had him screaming out in pain. I nearly vomited at the sight of his crushed arm, his bone and tendons pushed through the skin in a sickening display.
He crumbled to the ground in agony the moment he was out of the transport, and Maverick looked at his arm, keeping it held up to prevent more dust and debris from getting in it. “We need to move fast. The longer it’s exposed, the more chance he has of infection.”
“Plus it