Ray takes matters into his own hands. IF this is how it's gonna be...then it might as well end this way. (warning, sad)
When he was gone for a few days, they'd probably think that he had just run off. No one would come looking for him, Frankie sure as Hell wouldn't...God... Ray breathed in deeply as he climbed over the railing, clinging to the rusty bars, his shoes almost breaking through the rotted wood. He looked down. A shallow creek trickled below. Jagged boulders sat lazily in the water, left over from millions of sticks of dynamite when this place was first built and hallowed out.
Ray let go, wobbling on the edge. If there was any time better, this time was the best. If this was how it was going to be, it might as well end like this. He bent his legs at the knees, and jumped. The ground came up fast.
"Ray!" Mikey yelled again, for about the twentieth time in the last two minutes. "Ray, please!" He shouted. He was wet, covered in mud, and tired beyond all reason. Bob stumbled behind him.
"I swear, he better not have done something stupid..." Bob mumbled to himself. "Jesus Christ, Ray, c'mon! This isn't funny man!" He screamed. Mikey stopped short and leaned against a tree, the rain steadily coming down in a thick drizzle.
"I can't-" Mikey panted. He reached into his jacket pocket for his inhaler and took off a few puffs. "Can't keep looking. I'm so-so tired." He said, slumping farther to the ground, finally landing in the mud, his knees sinking in.
Bob leaned down and grabbed Mikey by the arms, pulling him up. A few fallen trees laid about, all in the open, but they would have to do. Bob pulled Mikey to one and sat him down.
"Frankie said this bridge thing was like, a few more miles this way right?" Bob questioned. Mikey nodded tiredly. "I'll go and see if I can find, him, okay? You rest. I'll be back as soon as possible. Save your batteries, okay?" Mikey nodded again, laying himself haphazardly on the tree. Bob patted his shoulder then turned, already in a sprint.
He needed to find Ray.
Mikey woke with a start. The first things he noticed were 1) He was soaked, 2) He was alone, 3) It was dark, and 4) He was in the middle of the woods. It took him a few seconds to remember what had happened.
Ray had run off, and Gerard and Frankie weren't going to say why. After about six hours of his absence, Frankie told Mikey and Bob about a place he and Ray used to hang out at. He drew a crude, little map and then sent them on their way. Stupid bastard. If only he knew how bad Ray felt...
Mikey shoved his thoughts away and sat up slowly, reaching into his jacket pocket his flashlight. Where the Hell was Bob? As if to answer his thoughts, he heard the underbrush moving, and heavy, hurried footsteps. He turned on his flashlight and pointed it straight ahead. It was Bob.
"Jesus Christ...Oh god ohgodohgodohgod." Bob was shouting. "Fucking get out these woods and find someplace with reception. Call 9-1-1. We need help at Raven's Turn Bridge. I'm going back."
Mikey didn't have time to ask questions, Bob was yanking him to his feet and pointing him back in the direction of town. Mikey started to run, panic filling him to the core. What had Bob seen? Mikey had certainly never seen Bob this way, thought, all fearful and panicky and down right scared.
Mikey ran harder, it had to be Ray. Oh God, what had Ray done? Mikey could barely see lights ahead and ran faster, pushing his body to the limits. He stumbled, fell, rolled, heard a sickening crunch, pushed himself back up and found himself back in town.
Ow. Jesus Christ...Mikey didn't have time to inspect himself, though. He grabbed for his cell phone and yanked it from his pocket.
"9-1-1..." He muttered to himself. "C'mon...pick up!"
"9-1-1. What's your emergency?" Mikey's mouth took control and he told everything.
"We're losing him, for God's sake!"
"Add 1,000 more volts."
"He's going into shock!"
"Get me eight pints of blood, now!"
"...cardiac arrest, doctor!"
"God damn, breathe!"
"...fading into a coma."
And it all faded...to black.