23
I hear a car coming in the distance. Either it’s gonna run me over, the driver’s gonna call the police, or they’ll stop and call an ambulance. Neither one of them is gonna do me any favours. The best thing they can do is ignore me altogether. Or stop and take the money. What do I care? Not like I can spend it in the morgue or in a prison cell. Whichever comes first.
At the rate I'm bleeding, the safe money’s on the slab.
Oleg knew what he was doing with that knife. My biology isn’t the best. Not when I’m close to passing out. But I think he may have severed an artery. A main vein for sure.
I try and lift my head to get a better look. Maybe I can apply a better tourniquet than the belt from my jeans. But as I try and sit up on the road, all I feel is dizzy.
I flop back to the tarmac
