Barely.

In a haze of pain breathing only from your limited supply of oxygen and gasping left lung you cough up blood from your useless right as you speed down the lighted streets. You have no idea what she is saying or pleading but you are thankful for the noise as it keeps you at least marginally alert. Your display tells you the air tank is empty and a sucking pain grasps you as part of every breath attempts to fill your punctured lung. “Well this was fun.” You say to no one really as you start to black out but a strike from her head to your back starts you awake once again and to your amazement you see the doc’s shop. You drive for the entrance and slow down. You some how put down your kick stand and step off the bike. “I’ll be right back.” You think you say at her but have no real idea if words come out of your mouth and walk in the door. The last thing you remember as you crash to the floor is the doc and his assistant run forward to catch you just a bit too slow as you slap down on the cold ground and can see a small pool of blood forming as the world goes black.