Track Star (Part 2)

I wake up feeling like I just slept on a bed of nails. Something crawls into my mouth. I spit it out, jolting upright and tossing my bike off of me. A sharp pain shoots through my shoulder, throbbing from the sudden movement. Groaning, I try to breathe through it. A minute of heavy breathing and sitting still makes it dull a little. Seems to be dislocated, but I’ll have to make do.

After sitting for a couple more minutes, I stand and brush off some of the dirt. I’d make a pretty good camouflage right now.

I grab my bike and notice the chain dangling from the gears, snapped in two. I could probably fix it—I have the tools—but with my shoulder like this, I don’t know if I’ll be able to ride it anyway.

Before I think about that, I gotta get back on the surface. I grab my belongings and use my one good arm to throw them out of the hole onto solid ground. Then, I take my bike and prop it up against the wall, trying to make it as stable of an impromptu ladder as possible.

I climb the bike carefully. It wobbles a little, but I manage to grab the ledge. Gripping it as hard as I can, I push off my bike, using the momentum to crawl back onto land with only a little extra pain. I lie over the edge and try to pull up the bike, but with only one good arm, it’s too difficult.

It’s not worth it. The chain is broken and I’m probably not even capable of riding it. Sadly, it looks like this is the end of the road for me and my trusty bike.

I’ve only had this one for ‘bout a year, so it don’t feel too bad to leave behind. My last one broke down after a bit over five years of use. I even gave her a name—Jess. I cried a little after she was gone. I didn’t name this one; figured it’d make it easier to lose. Don’t like being without a bike one bit, though. Hopefully, I find a new one soon.

Without a bike there isn’t much point to carrying the extra weight of bike tools. Although, the wrench did come in handy, so I might as well hold onto at least that one. I throw the rest back into the hole.

I seem to be in the middle of some flatlands, and a bit far away to my left is a road. Normally, I’d follow the road, but The Soulless use it, so that feels somewhat unsafe.

I try to pick up the rest of my stuff, but realize it’s too much to carry with a dislocated shoulder. I unpack everything, picking out what is really important to take. At this point it seems to only be food and water, but there isn’t much of either—I didn’t exactly have much time to stock up. I decide to eat and drink what I can of what's left and only take my new gun and the Supernovacide.

I start walking, following north. As a constant traveller it’s useful to know your directions—I never knew it would be this useful.

At first I don’t notice, but I begin to hear a droning noise in the distance slowly getting louder and louder. I look back; way in the distance is a giant line of vehicles cruising down the road.

I notice a bush about 20 yards away. I sprint over and jump behind it, gripping the gun and clinging the Supernovacide to my chest as tightly as I can. I sit, hoping and praying that it's not The Soulless—and even more, that they haven’t noticed me.

My breathing quickens, faster and faster. My heart pounds harder and harder, I can feel it in my head. It gets painful, making me forget what I’m even hiding for.

Grandmomma once asked me, “Terrance, have you ever been afraid?”

I was a kid, so the answer was obviously, “Yes. I don’t like the dark.”

“I don’t think no person on this brown-ish, green-ish Earth like nuttin’ ‘bout that. And if they do, they lyin’.” She chuckled. “But do you know why you’re afraid?”

“Because it’s scary.”

She chuckled again; she always found me so funny. “Well, that is what being afraid means. That’s not what I’m talking ‘bout, though. What I’m referring to is the deeper reason as to why. Do you wanna know?”

I just stared at her, intrigued. She continued, “It’s ‘cause you feel like you’re waitin’ on death.” She threw her hands in the air, shaking them, as if that really brought the point home. “Now don’t you ever wait on death, Terrance. It’ll come when it’s time, but till then you gotta make the most of the time you got left. Don’t go wastin’ it by waitin’.” I vigorously nodded my head.

I don’t know why I recall that moment—maybe it’s the fear I’m feeling right now, or maybe it’s just a stroke of luck. But it calms me.

I loosen my grip on the gun and the box with the Supernovacide while slowing my breathing. I close my eyes, focusing on only the sound of the moving vehicles. The drone of the engines steadily fades away. Eventually it goes away completely; even then I wait for another few minutes, making sure it doesn’t come back.

I get up and begin walking north again.

I walk all day, hoping the hospital will show up soon, but quickly realize that I will have to spend the night out here. I find another bush to hide behind while sleeping. Making the ground my home, I imagine the dirt and grass are the bed I slept on as a little kid. The chilliness makes it kinda hard to, but I do fall asleep.

The next day I rise with the sun beaming down on me. Being the only thing to do, I get up and start walking.

Night begins to fall when I see a large building looming in the distance. Excitement and joy fill my very soul. I ain’t never been so happy to see a building.

Getting closer, I’m able to confirm it’s a hospital. I must say it’s slightly weird to have a hospital in a place where I see no other buildings or people around. Doesn’t seem like the most intelligent placement, but whatever—I’m certainly no doctor.

I walk into the front of the hospital, too determined to be astounded by its size. Nurses, doctors, and patients are moving around this way and that. I can’t believe it’s an actual running hospital, I didn’t know any existed.

“Excuse me,” I say weakly. No one notices me. Which might I say is really strange because I am extremely dirty and probably look very unwell.

I say it louder this time, “Excuse me!” A couple of nurses stop in their tracks and look at me.

One of them walks up to me. She looks very kind and motherly. “My lord! You look like you’re doing terribly.” She scans me up and down. “You seem quite bruised and battered. Is something wrong with your shoulder?”

“No time to worry about my shoulder, I think it’s just a dislocation. I need to see—”

“Oh my! Come with me so a doctor can fix that up for you.” She starts walking away.

I follow, feeling a bit awkward that all I’m carrying is a box and a gun in my waistband—but people carry all kinds of things these days. “Please, I need to see a man named Sergio.”

She smiles at me. “I am very sorry, but Sergio is an important man with many important things to attend to. Without a proper referral you cannot see him.” She leads me into a small room with a chair and an examination table. “Right in here. Just sit and wait on the table; I will bring back a doctor. Feel free to place your belongings anywhere.”

“Please! I just went through hell to get here, you have no idea!”

“I am so very sorry, but I cannot do that for you. Like I said, you need a proper referral.”

“My friend told me to seek Sergio, he said that Sergio could help me.”

“Regretfully, having ‘a friend’ telling you to meet Sergio is not actually enough to count as a proper referral.”

“Pleaaaase, I have to. I come from the This is Our Town Faction and—”

Her face drops. “The what?”

“The This is Our Town Faction. It’s just some random faction, I’m not surprised you don’t know about it.”

“No, I know about it.” Now with a very serious look, she tells me, “Wait here,” and runs out of the room.

A few minutes later an old man with a broad stature walks into the room. He has a very charming look, like you’re in good hands with him around. “It’s nice to meet you, I will be your doctor today. Let me get a good look at your shoulder.”

“Wait, what about Sergio? I need to meet him.”

“Don’t you worry about that. Oh yes, this does not look fun. I think with a closed reduction, a sling, and some good rest this can be fixed right up. How does that sound?”

“What? Am I going crazy or is no one actually listening to me?”

“Alright, then let’s get started. Sorry about not having any anesthetic, but we gotta save that for the worse off patients.”

“That’s fine, I can handle it,” I reply. “Wait, no, that’s not what I meant. Let me meet Sergio.”

“You know, Terr, someone leaving that town is stranger than spotting a walking fish.” I don’t remember telling anyone my name.

“Hold up, I—”

“Here goes.”

Crack.

“AHHHHHH!”