a closed starter for Reagan @vntageheart
His muscles twitched against the gravel of the road. The smell of iron and tar mingled as Carlos gathered all of what's left of him to get up. Get the fuck up, you idiot. He slowly moved, rolling on his side so he wouldn't be in the middle of the gravel road and crawled towards a sitting position. There was a hint of light and life a mile away - possibly a ranch of sorts. His torso was now blooming with purple black bruises, bleeding scrapes which had crusted. His face was sporting the same bruises, swollen lips cut on both tiers. There was a gashing wound on his shoulder, blood trailing down his clothes, eventually dripping onto the road. He staggered up, pulling his frame off the ground, cursing as he went. This is what you get when you fucking mess around with a rival cartel. Sputtering out blood onto the cold road, he took a shuddering breath, blinking to adjust against the darkness that had fallen over the countryside. He was far away from the city that's for sure. Looking up, Carlos could see the stars - stark and bright against its dark canvas. If exhaustion and pain weren't weighing down his bones right now, he would have appreciated that better.
It seemed like an eternity till he managed to reach the residence and into the barn nearby. Just for tonight. I'll room with the fucking horses. Having grown up in his grandparents farm when he was younger, animals and the smells were the least of his concern. His presence had startled the animals but he managed to squirm his way into the far corner where there were bundles of hay and far away from animals. He didn't want to cause them distress and end up alerting the owner. Settling down, Carlos groaned. His eyes were squeezed shut from exhaustion as it gnawed through every fibre of his being. And soon it took over, lulling him into dreamless sleep.
His eyelids saw red - an indication of sunlight peeping through the barn walls. Carlos' mind was still in a fog, eyes still laying beneath the thick slumber dust. When he managed to crack them open, he couldn't seem to move much. The hay he was laying on had soaked up the blood from his shoulder wound and he was sure his body was stuck to it too. Shit.
His dark gaze landed on a woman.
Possibly the owner of the barn. A groan reverberated through his chest as he tried to sit up. "Please. Uh..." he winced. "I'm not... I just wanted some cover last night," he managed to rasp, a trembling hand held out towards her. "I- I- I'll leave. I won't cause trouble."