Cade looks small. He’s on his side, one arm trapped beneath his body, the face of his helmet pushed into the dirt. I want to fucking do something. I want to pull off his helmet and see that his face is intact and maybe his eyes are open, but I can’t, so I kneel close to him but not touching, my hands hanging uselessly in the air between us and my entire body vibrating with fear.
“Cade?”
I know it’s stupid to say. If he were conscious, he’d be moving. But I don’t know what else to do.
Eventually, I start to touch him gently, looking for blood or broken bones without moving him. My hands are shaking so much now that I can barely use them, but I have to keep trying. I think I might keep saying his name over and over, but I’m not sure.
Behind me, people are yelling. I can hear them running around. Shit, I should be calling an ambulance. But trying to fish my phone out of my pocket with my shaky fucking hands is a waste of time.
Someone comes close up behind me, and I lean over Cade protectively on instinct. But when I look up, it’s Chris’s uncle. I can’t remember his name right now, but I always recognize him because he has two teeth missing from the top row, a little to the left, and it makes him easy to pick out of a crowd.
He puts his hand on my shoulder and leans over to talk to me.
“It’s okay, I called an ambulance. They’re like ten minutes away. Everyone else is bailing. I gotta get out of here before the cops show up, I’m going to drive Chris to the hospital myself after we get him changed out of his gear. If anybody asks, just tell them I let you guys use the track whenever you want. Nobody else was here, Cade was training and had an accident. They’llknow there’s no point in digging harder, it’s not like anyone’s gonna talk to them.”
I nod. I’m probably supposed to say something, but none of this feels real. I can wait here for an ambulance. That’s something I can do.
Uncle Missing Teeth keeps holding my shoulder and stares at me for a second, like he’s trying to decide if it’s really okay to leave us. I must look more capable than I feel, though, because eventually, he gets up and jogs away.
There’s more shouting, but I don’t bother looking. I know I’ll just see everyone who was here to profit off of Cade running away from him, now that he’s hurt.
Don’t move him. I have to remember not to move him.
There’s nothing else I can do. Not like this. I’ve been scared of this happening for so long, and now it’s here and it doesn’t feel real. Or maybe it feels like I summoned it here with all my stupid thoughts.
Nothing matters. I only have to wait.
Holding onto that thought, I lay down in the dirt a few inches away from him, my shoulder tucked under and my face turned to the side, my body a mirror image of his. I stare at the helmet, trying to see through the mud and the darkness to catch if he opens his eyes. I watch his chest keep rising and falling in shallow breaths.
I don’t move when the ambulance shows up. I hear it, and there’s some flashing from the lights, but I don’t need to look. They can see exactly where we are. There might be cops here, too, but that seems like a later problem. I continue to lie here, studying every inch of Cade that I can, with my fingers curled loosely around his gloved ones. I focus my energy on pushing back against the thought that once he gets into that ambulance, I might never see him again.
Their voices come to me like we’re all underwater, but eventually someone tugs me away from him and gets me sitting on my ass. I can see one of the medics putting down a backboard next to Cade while the other gets in my face.
I’ve met both of them before, I should remember their names, but just like with Uncle whatever, I can’t find the information in my brain.
It’s an older woman talking to me.
“Are you hurt? Were you both in an accident or only him?” she asks me in clear, articulated sounds.
The underwater feeling drifts away, and more ambient sounds come to my attention.
“I’m okay,” I answer, too slowly.
That seems to be enough for her, because she turns her attention back to Cade.
They both move in a blur of color and straps and things I can’t identify, until Cade is strapped onto the board, his helmet still on, and they both hoist him into the air.
“Come on,” the woman half-shouts at me. “Time to go. You can’t just sit here all night, you can ride with us, Silas.”
I should feel worse that she remembers my name and I don’t remember hers, but that seems like a lot right now. I focus on getting up on my feet, and then following them as they carry Cade over the dirt mounds that make up the track. It’s difficult, and I think about offering to help them, but I would probably be in the way more than useful.
No cops in the parking lot. Just my truck, and the lingering beer and weed smell from everyone who ran away. It’s quick getting him into the ambulance, and when the lady says something to me I don’t hear, she seems to give up and politely manhandles me into the back and straps me into a little folding jump seat.
I want to reach for him, but I’m scared to get in the way. I want to stop shaking. What I want most of all is to feel something other than the finality of all that impending doom, but none of the tracks in my mind feel like they’re lining up correctly this time.
“Don’t be scared, hun. We’re gonna take care of him,” the woman says, her voice sounding disembodied and coming from somewhere.
“Thank you.”
