“Where—? Rucksacks. Bags of supplies. Sleeping bags. Right. He was in the Jeep’s cargo compartment. The surface underneath him jolted as the Jeep bumped over the rough road. Pain slammed into him the next second. His ribs, lower back, and leg all hurt, reminding him of what he’d been through. His head ached. His mouth was parchment dry and had a faintly chalky taste, as if someone had fed him medicine. Emily. Rebels. Crater. Hell. How long had he been out? Hours? Days? The gray, watery light mad...e it hard to tell what time of day it was. “Em?” he croaked. But even to his own ears the sound was barely audible. Okay, then. He’d just have to drag his sorry ass up to the passenger compartment. And he’d get right on that once his head stopped throbbing so fiercely. After a few minutes, he attempted to raise his hand, thinking he could hold on to one of the rucksacks and pull himself upright, but although he strained to move, his body remained stubbornly stationary. All right. He’d rest a bit more and then try again.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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