Continued from Part I.
“Out of my way, drunk!” an angry passer-by pushed Paul against the wall of the nearest building. He was grateful for the support. He took a deep breath and another step. Carla must be here soon.
A man in a bright red coat jumped into his path.
“Good afternoon, sir, can I interest you in saving some animals today?”
You have got to be kidding, Paul thought. He waved his hand apologetically.
“Alright, well have a good weekend sir.”
A taxi driver stood on his brakes and leant angrily on his horn as Paul stumbled across a side road entrance without looking. Paul was too far gone to summon adrenaline in response. He walked on.
Finally his feet failed him and he collapsed against a wall, sinking down and hitting his head against the paving stone. The rain began to drip off his collar onto his neck, and run up into his ears and nose.
A black car screeched to a halt right beside him. Carla exploded from the back door with a syringe between her teeth. She reached him, ripped open his shirt and stabbed the needle into his side. He could only screw up his eyes and grit his teeth in response to the pain.
Carla grabbed Paul under each arm and dragged him backwards across the wet paving stones to where the car sat. She dragged him awkwardly over the back seat, the belt clips stabbing into his back. Then she reached over and pulled the back door closed.
“Drive!” she shouted at Eric, so loud that he jumped in his seat. “Hospital, now!”