Not long to go

The stream of blood poured down his forehead and stung his right eye. The world blurred, red and watery. Everything hurt. He leaned back in the seat. Closing his right eye, he stared through the shattered windshield. Each breath hurt, and he tried to keep still. The night was cloudy and dark. He coughed explosively, and blood painted the windshield. Wrapping his arms around chest, one eye closed, he saw approaching headlights. They picked out his broken world in reddish highlights. He whimpered and pawed at the door handle with several broken fingers. He had to leave. They were back