My chest was on fire.
The bandages and gauze wrapped around my torso tightened after every painful breath.
Legs and arms felt sluggish as if I hadn’t moved them in a millenia.
I smacked my gums, mouth opening and closing only to get dryer by the minute.
In my frustration I force myself to sit up from my bed, ignoring my cracked ribs which only led to them complaining even more. Scraped elbows on the cushy mattress propped me up slowly but surely. The blood from my head evens out with the rest of my body and the headache I’ve had since being forced to recuperate returned with a vengeance.
From outside my cabin, sounds of laughter and music could be heard. A broken glass here and a joyful holler there.
I was almost upright, when a large clawed finger held me back down gently. Scoffing, I looked to my right and there was Andre next to me, cross legged and taking up half the space of my room.
“You don’t have anything better to do, Andy?” I said while scratching at the scabs over my left eyebrow.
I stared at my mechani-arm, sticking out of a chest covered in a boar-pelt that one of the boys got for me. Its ramshackled nuts and bolt form was even more mangled ever since the bank heist. The springs were twisted, its chrome paint had been nearly scrapped off in just one job. The first thing I’d be doing when I got better was come up with a newer, more durable, and an even more formidable arm.
Andre yawned loudly, “Just go back to sleep.”
Shame filled my soul and I felt my dry lips turn into a frown. Another day of being in bed, another day I missed out on a job. The fact that no one has come to visit me today says everything I need to know.
“What about Claudia? She’s almost done anyways, you can leave. Go look after the others.” I said trying to hide my discontent in my tone.
Andre then carefully passed me a canteen filled with cold water. I took it begrudgingly and drank as I winced. There was still faint bruising on my neck from that Superhero’s iron grip. When I closed my eyes, I could see myself falling all over again with the rabbit girl. Her white tear-drop lenses blankly staring at me, and her grip on my neck like that of a noose.
“Yeah right. The only thing they need to be checked for is the amount of booze they waste tonight. Not much to worry though.” Andre laughed.
I chuckled through my discomfort, imagining the gallons of ethanol the others would throw down until morning. I then asked, “What are you afraid of?”
“Life of the party ain't you, little un’?” he grimaced.
Andre was big and tough, and to people who met him for the first time he looked like a living nightmare. With his thick gray fur, wolf head, and towering stature, most people don’t even consider saying hello to him. Which was all the more surprising when you find out how much of a softie he was under a certain light.
Staring at the wooden ceiling, support beams made of logs draped in cobwebs, I asked, “You think so?”
“No, not really.” he said as he tilted his head to the side. It was hard to tell if he could smile or frown, but you knew exactly what he was feeling. He then said, “I’m afraid of… you almost died, Walt.”
There was no doubt: Power-Jack did a number on me. But who cared really?
His eyelids fell slightly as well as his ears. His shoulders slumped as he let out a tired sigh, picking at himself with his large hairy hands, like the answer was a bothersome fat tick clinging on to his hide.
Until he stood up and made his way towards the door, avoiding my gaze, and he said, “Chief says… well you know what he says…. ”, he paused right before the door.
“Chief says a lot.” I said. I was disappointed by the lack of an answer. Which is to be expected with Andre. It didn’t matter anyways since Andre made his decision and bent his head down and walked out of the room. The next round of medicine should be enough to fix anything broken. Although I was sure my body would continue to ache for a while longer.
But before he truly left, he said from outside the doorway, “Just go to bed, little un’.”
I took out my journal from a small shelf behind the bedrest and flipped through the pages for the tenth time that day. Going over older rough sketches and notes on my inventions, it's harder to come up with something new when you're stuck inside all day. I grew bored of that so I tossed the journal back, I sighed as I stared at the ceiling once again. I already read all the newspapers and magazines the others brought for me to read on my nightstand and every piece of literature on the bookshelf on the other side of the room had already been picked apart front to back, full of notes, highlights, references, and bookmarks.
I wanted to fly away, into the sky, towards the west, carrying everyone with me.
Andre, Ina, Pharrel, Chief, Claudia, and the rest….
Maybe Isaiah if he earned it.
I tried to imagine what it'd be like if we went back to the open country. Away from all of this civilization. We could live together and not have to deal with any more of this AVIA business. I tried to think of what it would actually be like. Yet all I could see were their faces. In my attempt to envision a future all I received was a migraine. I cupped my hand on my face and let out a groan.
Sleep was calling to me, a simple means to escape the pain and boredom. I pulled the covers over my body as I slowly closed my eyes, ready to embrace a nap. Darkness filled my vision gradually as calming energy washed over me. It was futile in reality, for the second I wake up everything comes back to you like an avalanche. If only there was a way to sleep forever.
But right before I could rest easy, a shiny golden light woke me back up. The moon light coming from outside the window just happened to land on my bookshelf causing something to shine right at my eyes.
I grumbled words of frustration as I grabbed my pillow and slammed it on my face, searching for the sleep I so desperately wanted. However it never came, and the thought of the ridiculous golden book that I never bothered to throw away invaded my mind.
I threw the pillow at the shelf letting out a snarl from my bared teeth, only for it to do nothing and fall to the floor. Brilliant, I thought, as the ray of light never missed its mark on my eyes.
With no pillow to rest my head on I do what I had been trying to do this entire week: stand up.
I got upright, loudly exclaiming as my ribs moved and shifted inside my chest, my cracked bones on my hips and arms screamed in protest while I supported my weight. My legs moved past the covers and onto the warm rug, happy that someone put it there for if not my bare feet would have to deal with cold cement.
On some level I knew Andre was right, I had to rest, but I was better than I was last week or even the day I got back from the heist. I’ll never forget how angry Andre was seeing me fly back to base on Gutterwing as he barked at me, the hairs on his back erect with fury. He wasn’t so angry when I finally let go, succumbing to the pain and falling off my glider as I plummeted towards the camp. Pharrel flew up and caught me right before my head hit the ground.
That Power-Jack was something else. She was like a blur, running and jumping all over the place. It was like trying to fight a glass cannon powered by a nascarter engine. Even when I did manage to hit her she shrugged it off like it was nothing. She even had time to banter.
That was typical of Superheroes though.
She was a warrior like no other.
Yet with those same battle hardened fists she only gifted me bruises and cracked bones.
Merciful and elegant.
And kind of funny too.
“The money you stole… belongs to the people of New Geweld. You will face justice for your crimes, I’ll see to it.”
Finally, I found the strength to arise from my bed, gravity tried convincing me to go back, but I refused to listen. I was shirtless due to my bandages, I wore only slacks with the suspenders hanging down the sides. My legs carried my withered and patched-up body towards the bookshelf to deal with the golden book once and for all.
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