Chapter 8
After what could have been a moment or a week, Doyle began to come around. When he did, he saw Kord slumped in the passenger seat, a trickle of blood running down his forehead.
Doyle was able to move but everything hurt. He knew he’d have to ignore the pain until he could help Kord out of the car.
Struggling, every bone and muscle feeling shattered and strained, he managed to sit up.
“Kord.” He gently touched the man’s shoulder. Kord didn’t move or moan.
Doyle fought the pain and tried opening the door. It was stuck and wouldn’t budge. Placing his weight against the door, he was then able to push it open and get out. He attempted to stand but crashed to his knees. The pain of the fall reverberated all through his body and a wave of nausea gripped him. He shook his head in an
