Eden (Chapters 1 & 2)

Eden

by

Matthew C. Plourde

"Myth is more potent than history"

The Storyteller’s Creed, Robert Fulghum

 Chapter 1

Alexandra Contreras opened her eyes and winced at the sting of dust and smoke. Her ears focused on the crackle of something burning nearby. Smoldering rubber and twisted metal released their associated smells into the mangled section of the bus. She tasted blood in her mouth. Through the grogginess in her head, Alexandra wondered why she was lying in a sea of shattered glass on the inside roof of a wrecked bus.

Before she found any answers in her pounding skull, Alexandra heard a man yell nearby.

“Anybody okay in there?”

Unsure if the man was asking about her bus, Alexandra looked around. Nighttime darkness filled the vehicle. She remembered the bus only had a few people aboard when she left San Antonio. No, that wasn’t right. She left San Antonio on a large commuter bus. This smaller bus left from Laredo last night. Or was it the night before? Alexandra wasn’t sure. To stimulate some coherent thoughts, Alexandra shook her head and a lance of pain shot through her forehead and down her spine.

Trying to manage her throbbing head, Alexandra turned and saw another passenger through the dark strands of her bloodied hair. He was a middle-aged man lying on his back about four feet away.

Alexandra forced a smile. “Are you all right?”

The man didn’t answer. He didn’t even blink. Alexandra felt a rush of nervousness and fear gather momentum at the bottom of her stomach. Sweat chilled her hands as she realized the man could be dead. When the emotions reached her throat, Alexandra decided to leave the wreckage as quickly as possible.

She crawled across the broken glass and debris to a nearby window, which seemed to be the best exit from the overturned vehicle. The torn metal of the roof ripped through her slacks and dug into her legs. Whimpering, Alexandra clenched her jaw and reached for the frame of the broken window. As her hand grasped the metal, a pair of boots stepped into view at her right. She couldn’t make out any other details, as the only light came from nearby fires.

“Ahhh…” A Spanish accented voice came from the boots. “Somebody alive?”

The boots were joined by a knee and then by a toothless smile. Attached to the smile was a Mexican man - perhaps forty years old, Alexandra guessed. His face appeared bruised. As he focused on Alexandra, his glossy eyes widened.

“You look like you can fit outta the window,” he said, after he smacked his lips and drew his sweaty forearm across his mouth. “Need help?”

“No. I can make it.”  Alexandra said as she felt some blood run down her chin.

The toothless face rose out of view and Alexandra focused on dragging herself through the narrow window. She ripped part of her suit jacket and blouse on the frame as she squeezed through, but the soft dirt was a welcome mattress compared to the roof of the bus. For a few moments, Alexandra was content to lay in the dirt and catch her breath. She looked to the sky, but the stars weren’t shining. The unseasonably cold air irritated the scrapes and lacerations she received from the accident. Then, Alexandra wondered if there was an accident. She couldn’t remember.

“You gonna be okay?” the toothless man said as he shuffled closer.

A voice in Alexandra’s head urged her to get away from the bus and the toothless man. Her internal compass was usually correct in these things. She looked at him again. He appeared to be dressed in overalls, but almost everything else was indistinguishable in the darkness. Everything except those glossy eyes.