After the Apocalypse

Chapter 1.5

“You okay there, son?” someone yelled loudly. It took a moment to realise that the voice belonged to his dad. Tom shifted his head (and found that it was cushioned by something like a towel)to see where his dad was but he couldn't see where he was ...

 “Bill?” it was his father again, only this time he sounded panicked.

 “He's ... he's awake, Mr Wakefield! Just disoriented! Tell Bob to drive more carefully!” Bill yelled. He leaned forward and grabbed Tom's hand.

 “You okay, buddy?”

 “You called me buddy far too many times ... it's not a good sign,” Tom said between gasps. He blinked away tears of pain and tried gamely to smile. “How bad is it?” he hissed.

 “They don't know ... but Dr Hiro ... he said that some of your ribs are broken and ... your left arm is totaled too,” Bill left it at that, and Tom guessed that he was reluctant to elaborate further.

 “There's more, isn't there?” he rasped. Because he knew it wasn't just a case of a simple broken arm. Before they stumbled on the hunting party headed by his father in the wilderness, he had felt a growing weakness creeping in his body that left his body numb. And then there's the light-headed sensation of blood loss that he knew so well. He knew then that there was something inside him that was now broken.

 “Internal injuries,” Sarah said softly.

 “Sarah!” Bill snapped.

 “Keeping it from him is not going to make him feel any better,” Sarah hissed.

 “All right, you two. Why don't you let him rest now,” said a British-accented voice to his right.

Startled, Tom looked towards the man, who was bundled up in a thick winter jacket. The man – Dr Hiro Oshi, doctor and accidental refugee from London – gave him a smile. Tom vaguely remember wondering why Hiro was there with his dad. Perhaps he was finally getting out of the funk that he had descended into when he arrived at Sandy Plains.

“You just rest now, Tom,” he said.

“And I'm bleeding too,” he said weakly, ignoring the man as he shifted carefully. He hissed in a pain as he moved the wrong way. He could feel the blood seeping down his arm.

Dr Hiro frowned and peeled back the layers of jacket and blankets he had on him. His face changed when he observed Tom's arm – another bad sign.

“Shit,” Dr Hiro cursed softly. He began fumbling for something in a box next to him. Tom watched with mild interest as he took out a couple of bandages. But he found it difficult to concentrate and his eyes began to droop.

Someone slapped him, and he winced. “What?” he rasped.

“No sleeping, remember?” It was Sarah. He smiled at hearing her stern voice – it reminded him of his mother's – but she shouldn't have bothered because he felt the wooziness increase. Still, he forced his eyes open, trying to concentrate on what Dr Hiro was doing to his broken arm.

“How is he?” his dad yelled again from the front of the truck.

“He's ... he's getting worse! How much longer? Tell Bob to step on it!” Bill yelled, giving Tom hesitant glances.

“Ten minutes tops!” yelled another voice – Bob's – from the front. “But the roads are going to be rough in this stretch. Tell Tom to hold on!”

Tom can hear you just fine, Tom thought in mild amusement. But he steeled himself for the onslaught of pain that was sure to come. And sure enough, the truck began shaking as it went over the uneven, rock-strewn road. Tom bit his lower lip and groaned, willing himself to just count the stars ... count the stars ... that's what he and Lana did during their long nights together.

 “Tom, you hang in there son, do you hear me?” His father.

 Another violent jolt. This time, he didn't bother holding back the weak cry that escaped from his lips. He began breathing hard as he struggled to tide the pain. A gentle hand enveloped his good hand and he squeezed instinctively. Vaguely, he heard his father calling him.

 “Hold on,” Sarah whispered, her usual brusque tone missing. She sounded afraid ... for him? He found that odd.

 His eyes began to close ... he didn't think he could stop their descent this time. He felt someone shaking him, but sleep sounded so good, especially now.

 “Tom! Come on, buddy! We need you to stay awake!”

 He wanted to do what Bill said, but he also wondered why he should. Peace ... that's what he actually needed. How often could he save Sandy Plains to atone for the guilt he felt inside? One day, they will all know, and he would be alone again, and he would have to leave Sandy Plains once more ... better leave now ... than then, when he had gotten used to the feeling of belonging.

 He squeezed Sarah's hand weakly.

 “Tell them ... tell them I love them,” he whispered weakly. His eyes opened slightly and then he sighed. “Tell Heather...” And then his eyes closed.

 If his eyes were open, he would've seen Sarah bending down close to catch what he was saying. He would've seen the stricken look she gave Bill when she heard what he said. Bill bent down to cup Tom's pale face in his hands. It felt cold.

 “Tom! Don't talk like that. I swear, if you give up on me now ...” he trailed off, at a loss at what threat he should use. “Come on!” he yelled, shaking Tom none too gently.

 But Tom couldn't hear him anymore. He was somewhere else ... where memories did not torment him, and where the pain left him alone.