BooksBarbecue
Back The Asset
Chapters (86)
  1. Foreword
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 7
  9. 8
  10. 9
  11. 10
  12. 11
  13. 12
  14. 13
  15. 14
  16. 15
  17. 16
  18. 17
  19. 18
  20. 19
  21. 20
  22. 21
  23. 22
  24. 23
  25. 24
  26. 25
  27. 26
  28. 27
  29. 28
  30. 29
  31. 30
  32. 31
  33. 32
  34. 33
  35. 34
  36. 35
  37. 36
  38. 37
  39. 38
  40. 39
  41. 40
  42. 41
  43. 42
  44. 43
  45. 44
  46. 45
  47. 46
  48. 47
  49. 48
  50. 49
  51. 50
  52. 51
  53. 52
  54. 53
  55. 54
  56. 55
  57. 56
  58. 57
  59. 58
  60. 59
  61. 60
  62. 61
  63. 62
  64. 63
  65. 64
  66. 65
  67. 66
  68. 67
  69. 68
  70. 69
  71. 70
  72. 71
  73. 72
  74. 73
  75. 74
  76. 75
  77. 76
  78. 77
  79. 78
  80. 79
  81. 80
  82. 81
  83. 82
  84. 83
  85. 84
  86. Afterword

Lance pulled open his shredded pants, showing her the mess of blood and mangled flesh that was his thigh. “I need you to give me something fast. Antibiotics. Painkillers. Whatever you have.”

He looked at his watch and the first cashier came back to him with a shopping basket full of supplies.

“Toothpaste?” he said to her.

She was too terrified to function. There was a sewing kit among the items she’d gathered and he put it in his pocket. Then he put the basket on the ground and limped toward the dispensing counter. The pharmacist was no longer standing there. He leaned over the counter and didn’t see her, but then she came out of the secure room at the back holding a bunch of medications.

She gave him a handful of pills and a plastic cup of water and he took them. Then she jabbed a syringe into a brown bottle and sucked up the contents.

“What’s that?” he said.

“It will help.”

He didn’t know what it was but had no choice but to trust her. If he didn’t, he was screwed anyway.

She handed him the needle and said, “It needs to go in the leg.”

He jammed it in his calf and instantly felt its effect. His body became very heavy, and he slumped slowly to the ground. It had gone straight to his muscles, and it wouldn’t be long before the fog closed in on his mind too.

In the distance, he heard police sirens getting closer.

“Alcohol,” he said to the pharmacist.

“To drink?”

“No. Not to drink.”

She grabbed a bottle of surgical alcohol and poured it liberally on his leg, sending a fresh inferno of pain through his body. He gripped her arm in reflex. Her eyes locked on him. He was holding her so tight he was hurting her.

He let go.

“I need you to wrap it,” he said.

She nodded and pulled away his torn pants. She wrapped his leg tightly in fresh gauze. Instantly it began to turn red with blood.

The sirens were getting louder by the second and he pulled himself back to his feet.

“Thank you,” he said as he dragged himself out of the store.

He staggered into the middle of the street and pointed his pistol at the first car coming his way. It came to a sudden halt right in front of him and the driver put his hands in the air.

Lance motioned for him to get out of the car.

“Go on,” he said. “Leave the keys.”