A Chuck Wendig Flash Fiction Challenge.
The screaming. The crying and caterwauling raked his nerves.
Mind-numbing. Shards of glass, twisted metal, and pain kept him from moving
most of his limbs. The dead body laying across his chest made it impossible to wipe
the concrete dust from his mouth.
“Fuck of a subway ride this morning wasn’t it?”
Labored words wavered from out of the dark.
“Wha- What happened?”
The voice sounded close and pained. Rob moved the only part
of his body he could. He groaned as he slid his arm in the direction of the
voice in the dark.
“My name is James, James Bell, is that your arm?
“Rob. Yes…hand, I can’t feel legs. What do I feel in your ha-nd?”
“It’s a gold pocket watch, my wife gave it to me. I don’t
know what happened. Earthquake, bombing, structural collapse, train accident. I
have no idea.”
“Someone's on me James, I think they’re dead. Blood dripping
on me. If I don’t make it, out tell my wife...”
Still wheezing, Rob breathed but stopped speaking.
Rob zipped his fingers between James's.
“If it hurts too much, just squeeze my hand, if you can.”
Rob squeezed. He couldn’t have forced toothpaste out of a
tube. James reciprocated.
Dripping liquid marked time. Drops crashing on his chin, it
soaked into the collar of Rob’s business jacket.
“I’m just going to talk Rob, don’t respond if it hurts too
much.”
James cleared his
throat.
“It was raining this morning, left my apartment. I was
bitching about the weather, seems pretty trivial at the moment. Rob, I walked
down the street like…”
He could hear people in the distance but he couldn’t make out
what they were saying.
“Hey! Hey! Here!”
The voice were getting more and more distant as he grunted
out his words. A tear moistened the corner of his dusty eyelid.
“You hear that Rob? They are coming to save us. They
probably needed to get some tools or something. You’ll see Rob. Fuck yeah, tax money at work.”
James closed his eyes and drifted off.
“Fell asleep, how long was I out? Can you hear me? Can you
hear me? Squeeze if you can. It sounds like a swarm of bees up there. They must
be on their way. I would suck donkey balls for a glass of water right now. How
fucking long does it take? We are in a city for fuck sake. Surely they know we
are here. Oh, god, let us make it out of here. So hot. I can’t even feel my
arms or legs. Oh, fuck. I just want to see my family.”
“Can anyone here
me!”
~Silence
He squeezed Rob’s
hand, this time hard, there was no response from the cold stiff hand.
His heart
pounded thunderous-hope as he was startled awake by distant voices. He could
barely hear them but their sweet voices echoed brightly from then end of the
tunnel.
“Do you
think anyone survived in this part?”
“I am ALIVE!
Help me!”
“No chance,
shit man, you gotta focus on the job. A mile stretch of street collapsed in on
this motherfucker!”
“Heeeelp!”
“This shit
is fucked. Just glad the alarm didn’t go off. My wife was supposed to have left
for work from that station. Hard to believe it’s been a week and we still haven’t
found everyone.”
“Help me!
Please!”
“Well, we
better start working. Demo guys are coming in tomorrow to level the...”
Weeping as the voices faded, he heard growling
gas engines and whining hydraulic motors chatting back and forth throughout the
next several hours.
He closed
his eyes.
“God. If you
are up there, for fuck sake send help. NOW.
“FUCK! YOU!”
The debris
shook. Pain shot through his torso. The dead body seemed to levitate. Light
rushed in. He closed his eyes. Through fluttering lids, he saw the yellow maw
descending upon him. Visions of the steely-toothed mecha-reaper flashed in his
brain. He heard a shriek.
Rob screamed.
“JAMES!!!!!”
The concrete-chomping teeth of the excavator
heard him not.
“Good
morning class. Welcome to Parapsychology 101. I am Maggie Bryne. This morning
we will start off our course with a presentation from a special guest.”
The heavy
oak classroom door squeaked open. A long-haired legless man in a business suit
rolled his wheelchair over the threshold. As he continued toward the front of
the room, Maggie closed the door.
The
presenter, pant legs hemmed to the knee, looked toward the floor and cleared
his throat before pivoting his head back and speaking.
“To start
off with, I should warn you, I have no legs.”
The students stared wide-eyed at his attempt to break the ice.
The
two-limbed man smiled.
“My name is M.
Robert Cray. My friends call me Rob. Two years ago my life was normal. I had a
wife, a career, and two legs. I ran my own law firm. I also had no problem dismissing
the paranormal. One Tuesday morning, I woke up and decided to take the subway
instead of driving my car. That’s when everything changed. The tunnel
collapsed. Pinned under the dead body of a woman, named Roxanne Polsin, in the
wreckage caused by the earthquake, I heard a voice. The man lying next to me
introduced himself as “James”. We talked for days, well he talked, I mumbled
when I could manage it. Consoling each other we held hands. I am pretty sure he
fed me something. Crunchy, tasted like corn chips. I drank what little water
dripped on me. Nasty water. My rescuers insisted that I was delirious. They
told me I was eating cockroaches. They also told me there was no one else in
the train but Roxanne and I. They had all the answers, expect for one.”
Rob weaved
his hand into the pocket of his trousers and pulled something out. He raised
his hand above his head. A gold pocket watch inscribed “Dr. James H. Bell”,
swung in front of his face.