Once again it was a Friday night and Sam, Houston, and myself were playing video games waiting for it be late enough to sneak out Allie's house. 2:00am finally arrived and we were out the door of Houston house and on our way.
We had done this a few times by this point, so it was old hat to us. We slipped by the neighbors security lights and made it out of the neighborhood with no issues. We were also being very diligent in watching for car lights as we walked up the highway towards Allies's neighborhood. As I mentioned last time it was only a few miles from Houston's to Allie's house, so we were taking our time. We were shooting the breeze about and making fun of Sam's younger brothers when Houston spotted headlights and we all jumped over the guard rail and slid down the embankment to hide as the car passed.
We all were laying in the tall grass on the embankment below the guard rail when Houston calmly said "Guys, I think I hurt my leg."
Immediately Sam replied "Get up! Your not hurt."
We all picked ourselves up and climbed back over the guard rail. I looked back and Houston was dragging his leg like some kind of zombie you might see on the Walking Dead. We couldn't see what he had done since it was pitch black with no street lights on this stretch of highway. So when the next car came by we waited behind the guard rail and made sure it wasn't a cop before exposing his leg to the light to see what he had done to himself.
Lo and behold his leg was covered in blood from just below his knee all the way to where his ankle socks started. we couldn't make out where the cut was but it looked awful. When we asked him if he wanted to turn back, he said "Hell no, I am fine lets keep going!" So we trudged on, especially Houston, who literally trudged and drug his foot behind him.
Upon arriving at Allie's house and completing my parent sleeping checks (which they were asleep this time!) we went into basement and Allie's room. I noticed that when Houston stepped into the room from the mud and dirt under the deck his shoe squished and he was leaving bloody foot prints, and of course Allie freaked out "What is wrong with your leg!" she yelled at Houston before clamping her hand over her mouth, in fear of giving us away to someone in the house.
Sam calmly said "He jumped over the guard rail and must have landed on knife, spear, or maybe a broken bottle. He'll be fine."
Allie didn't agree with Sam's opinion and went to get the household first aid kit. Then as a great hostess she set about cleaning the 5" long cut in side of his calf with what Houston to this day claims was a Brillo pad. I remember him sitting on her day bed and clenching his teeth while his knuckles turned white as she scrubbed all the dirt and debris out of the wound. Finally she wrapped his leg in gauze and said we should take him to the hospital.
All three of us guys looked at each other and told her we would do that as soon as we got back to Houston's house. Of course this was lie...we were not planning on telling anyone about this night time excursion. Let alone involve a hospital! So our fun and games came to an early end and we helped Houston hobble back to his house.
The next morning we all woke up when Houston did since his scream of pain as he pealed his dried blood soaked bandage away from being stuck to his bed sheets was loud enough to wake the dead. He threw on his bathrobe and hobbled out to the kitchen. He mother screamed and yelled "oh my god, what did you do to your leg? Did you and Sam get in a knife fight!"
So about 10 minutes later Houston's family was in the car and headed to the hospital, while Sam and I left his house to head home. As for how it turned out, our secret trips to Allies house were safe. Houston told his family that he cut his leg wrestling with Sam the night before and he when they fell over an old folding chair. An easy 6 hour ER visit and 28 stitches later Houston was good as new and ready for our next adventure!