Battle Scars

Chapter two; Spencer

I sit in the corner of an empty coffee shop with my mug and tablet rested on the table. You could here the rain from inside the shop. My bus will arrive at approximately 15:00, supposedly taking me back to Arizona.

Right now, I'm sitting in a Starbucks in the middle of Kansas, reading the news paper on my tablet. Apparently there were two bombings in the last week, once in Florida, and the other in Alaska. Man, I hope Nova is ok. Arizona, California and Boston are the most frequently bombed places in America. Least are Kansas, Oklahoma and Arkansas. In some states, things are still up and running, in other more unfortunate ones, people are scavenging for supplies.

There are three other people with me. Two guys working on a P.P.C. and the barista. As one of the two men get up to use the bathroom, i guess, he walks past me. I notice that he has a tattoo on his wrist, looking like a sort of knot. (I've become very observant in the past three years, it helps) Also his phone has a tracking device app opened, obviously they are tracking something, putting me off ease. Not only that, but I have a clear view now of their P.P.C. It has goverment websites opened on it.

This, my friends is a subject I know all to well. You will know they are government websites because nowadays, when you open one and you are not supposed to be on it, a green flashing dot will appear at the bottom right corner of the screen. Amateurs, they obviously don't know that you have to make your P.P.C non traceable beforehand.

"Aren't you waiting for the bus?" Asked Amy the barista. I was so caught up in these amateurs that i didn't realize my bus was here. I hurried outside with my one backpack/archive of 'essentials'. Most of these include journals, pens, books, maps, my one tablet, and some spare cloths.

As I climb onto the bus, I realized the two men were coming also. Well won't this be interesting? The bus is supposed to take us to at least the boarder of Arizona and New Mexico, I don't know what to do after that.

I hadn't slept for weeks, so soon after boarding, I quickly fell in a timeless sleep, peering into the predicament that got us into this whole freaking mess...
I sat on the plain, only 2 hours till we land. I was extremely exited to finally meet my birth parents after all those years being juggled around in uncaring foster homes. Something was a little off putting, maybe the silence of the air around us, maybe the sheer madness beginning to creep into my mind as it boarded over every possible outcome. Then we here the pilot speak, in a shaken, unsettling voice "we will be making an emergency detour to Ne-New York" he said stuttering. I'd never been there. I know that's where Nova's mom lived now though. Maybe I could stay with her and her brother, I thought. Curiosity killed the passengers as we were led away from our original destination. People beguan to ask questions, making the pilot crack. He admitted the reason we were moving was because there was a bombing. The whole world had declaimed war on us. My stomach dropped, mixing with my thousand pound heart.
I weak up panting and sweating. It had become dark now probably nearing 23:00, and nearing the boarder too.

We pass the boarder quite a few miles back, I think he is taking us the the capital of Arizona. We arrive at a dusty gas station completely deserted and bled dry of all contents. As I walk off the buss along side few others, my shoes begin to collect ash and dust. Now the hard part. How to get to Sedona from Phoenix in a timely manner?

Being used to thinking on your feet comes in handy. I run over to a motorcycle I hope was deserted. Quickly, I cut the wires, and start to work. It takes a while but now I'm on the bike, driving my way to victory. God I hope the owner to this was not the leader of a gang. I hear there are a lot of gangs in these few states now. In fact I wouldn't be surprised if that tattoo was the symbol of a gang.

It takes roughly three hours to get to Sedona on the motorbike. 04:00. Way too early to find anyone, much less Nova. I run down the street to the old crummy motel 6 that served subject to a lot of truth or dare games. I walk up to room 24, pick the lock, and throw my bag down on the chair.

It seemed to be just after I slumped down on the bed and took of my shoes, there was a loud band. The bang of a pistol. I knew, however, that it was nearly noon, from the light ripping through the faded curtains. I peer out he window to see the severity of the fight.

Aww crap. Is all I can think. I haven't been caught in the middle of a riot in probably 6 months, and that's saying a lot in our war. There are rifles and Rebels everywhere. I pull on my ashy, gray boots, fling my bag over my shoulder and open the door only to slam it shut again. There is is, the dreaded beeping of the EGranade, an electric version of a Grande with a customizable timing system. Under normal circumstances, I could short one out in seconds, but that is all I have. In my last seconds I try to dive behind the chair my bag was slumped against.

With a bang it sets off and explodes the whole wall, bed and TV in the front half of the room. Is sends chunks of sharpanell in my direction, a lot hitting me. I can't worry about that right now.

The adrenalin rushing through my skin helps as I go to push myself through the back window. Regaining my calm I run to the nearest shop not in line of fire which happens to be a Home Depot. Getting there and securing myself in the farthest reaches of the store, I begin to examine my injuries.

My ankle is swollen and bloody, probably fractured, and my wrist is cut in several places. I find a peice of wood to use a a splint for my ankle, but without a doctor all I can do is bandage it and hope. As for my arm I just clean and bandage. Knowing it's about two by now, I head out, limping, because I know Nova will leave the café by three. I told her that's where I could meet her, 4 years ago, now it's finally going to happen.

As I near the little coffee shop more, I start to yell her name. I don't want her to leave before I can get there. "Nova!" I yell. She doesn't hear me obviously, she is oblivious of me like a grand parent turning off their hiring aid. "NOVA!!" I yell louder this time. That gets her attention.

"SPENCER!!" She yells, sprinting towards me at full speed. Tears gush down her cheeks, as I start to laugh. We collide, hugging to a point where I think she might suffocate me. "Are you ok?" She asks.

"Wait till we get home" I reply. She leads me to the house supporting me, for I have only one good knee at the moment.

Once we enter the house, the first thing I notice is the one thing that's changed. Not the dust, rubble or sheer look of the place. Nova fusses over me getting me a cup of water and sitting me down. "Nova?" I ask. No answer. "Nova?" I ask again. Nada. "NOVA, who is that?"