“’M trying…” But I’m not sure if I say it or just think it.
Then a sound cuts through. Mechanical humming, growing louder.
“Hear that?” His hand tightens on mine. “That’s the cavalry.”
The noise multiplies. Engines. Voices shouting coordinates. Metal clanging. After hours of just Jared’s and my voices, it’s overwhelming.
“There are lots of people coming,” Jared warns. “But I’m not going anywhere. I’m your designated hand-holder until you fire me from the position.”
“Probably can’t afford your…rates,” I manage.
“Lucky for you, I’m running a special discount today.”
Now there’s too much brightness. It floods my vision. Well, my left eye, which is still attempting to see.
Faces appear in my peripheral vision, hands reaching in to attach things, assess things, discuss things in medical terminology that sounds like they’re speaking in code.
The car starts to transform around me: pieces are cut away with sounds that belong in a horror movie.
But through it all, Jared keeps up a running commentary, translating what they’re doing, warning me before anything loud happens, his voice the thread I follow through the chaos.
“Nearly there, Felix. You’re doing so brilliantly. A few more minutes, and we’ll have you out.”
The moment they finally peel enough metal away, my body remembers it’s not supposed to be folded like origami. Everything protests at once. Someone counts “One, two, three,” and then hands are everywhere, supporting my head, my back, my legs as they ease me out of what’s left of my car.
“I’ve got you,” Jared says, right by my ear, and I realize he’s moved to help guide my upper body onto what feels like a board. “Keep your head still for us.”
The transition from trapped to free is strangely anticlimactic. No dramatic movie moment, just a lot of careful shuffling and professional voices saying things like “watch the IV” and “maintain C-spine.” My body feels like it belongs to someoneelse as they transfer me to a proper stretcher, strapping me down with practiced efficiency.
Then we’re moving, and the world tilts as they start hauling me up. I can hear the mechanical whir of whatever pulley system they’re using to extract me from this hole. My stomach lurches with the motion, or maybe that’s just my body finally catching up to everything that’s happened.
“Almost there,” Jared says, though his voice sounds different now, more distant, and I realize he must be climbing up alongside the stretcher somehow.
The last few meters happen fast. Suddenly, there’s sky above me instead of cave walls and about fifteen people in various uniforms all talking at once.
Now that we’re out in the light, everything looks like it’s been overexposed in a photo. The world has gone from black to blazing. My one semi-functional eye is not prepared for this transition. People are just shapes moving around me, voices without faces.
I want to see the face that matches the chocolate-cake voice.
I swivel as much as I can within the confines of my neck brace, looking for Jared, but he’s not among the sea of legs and bodies crowded around my stretcher. They all have normal, everyday voices.
I can’t see him anywhere.
It’s almost like he was never here at all.
Chapter 1
One Year Later
The music of the club thumps around me. It’s got the sort of bass that makes your internal organs consider relocating to a quieter neighborhood.
I’m on the dancefloor pulling out my best moves. My dancing style left subtle behind several pelvic thrusts ago.
Because I am totally, completely, and utterly looking to get laid tonight.
Halloween only comes around once a year, and my therapist Annie suggested I might feel more comfortable going out in costume.
Annie was right. The makeup and costume definitely make me feel almost like my old self.
