I carefully ease the car off the side of the road and into the grass. I sigh as I shove the car into park and cut the engine before Q and I wearily climb out of the car, shooting an aggravated glance at the cars blocking the freeway into the city.
He already has the map spread out on the hood of the car when I get to him.
"What other routes are there? There's got to be a way into this God d@{%ed city somehow."
"Well that's nice in theory, Lee, but the thing is, we've tried just about all of them," says Q exasperatedly.
Even he and his cheery demeanor were looking pretty dim with how things were going.
I guess that I assumed this would be a quick trip and we would be at the orthodontist's in no time. The usual trip took around an hour. I thought that it would take less time than that considering the fact that we were the only people on the road
Unfortunately, just because we're the only ones going somewhere, that does not mean there's no traffic.
Between all the cars left from people trying to evacuate, groups of infected, and crashes or barricades from the last few days of society, the trip that once took an hour has now taken us 2 and a half days and we're not even there yet.
"Look," he says as he points to different roads on the map, "this way: blocked. This way: herd of infected. This way: blocked. We're about out of options."
I scrunch my face up in concentration as I look at the map, desperate to find a solution.
"What about that road? It's a smaller road, less used. It's probably not blocked," I say as I point to the little two lane road coming into the industrial side of town.
"That would be perfect if you wanted to drive all the way back to Raleigh," he says as he points to the beginning of the road, two towns over with a 3 hour drive just to get there.
I walk away from the map. This whole thing makes me so mad that I just want to scream, but I can't even do that because the sound will just draw the infected to us. The injustice of it makes me all the more mad.
I finally get so mad that, without thinking, I rare back and kick the tire of the car with all the might my little 120 pound body can manage.
I instantly regret it.
"Ow ow ow ow ow ow!!" I cry as I hop on one foot so I can cradle my injured right foot. But considering the fact that I have less coordination that a newly born blind baby giraffe, I end up falling on the ground.
Q rushes around to the side of the car to help, but ends up laughing too hard to do anything. I can't say that I blame him. Between my fire truck red hair, brown-streaked arms, and my skimpy, ill-fitting clothes, there's cause enough to laugh especially when I'm laying on the ground, flopping like a fish, and moaning like an infected.
Once he finally recovers a bit from his laughter, he pushes his glasses up further on his nose (even though they haven't slid at all) and bends down to help me.
"Here, let me take your shoe off and look at it," he offers. My converse did absolutely nothing to cushion the blow to my foot. As Quentin begins to carefully slide it off of my foot, jolts of pain shoot through me even though he unlaced them the entire way.
He starts to slip my sock off and I consider stopping him to prevent him from seeing my nasty feet. I hadn't done my toenails in weeks. But then I realize I'm worrying about what Quentin Barnes might think of my toenails. The thought is enough to make me laugh.
For some reason, at that moment, everything seemed completely hilarious. Our car, our partnership, all of it. I can't stop laughing until Q touches my foot again and the pain makes me clench my teeth together.
As he eases the sock off, the first thing that goes through my mind is "That's not right."
My big toe and the two toes next to it are pushed strangely to the side and are bent in weird directions. My foot itself has a huge knot where my toes meet my foot. My skin is already starting to bruise a darker purple than I thought possible. So in other words, my foot looks pretty jacked up.
Q tentatively touches the knot forming on my foot causing me to howl in pain.
"What did you do that for?!" I ask, sweating slightly from the pain.
"Lee, I have to feel of it, so I can assess the damage. Just hold still. I'll try to be gentle," he says as he starts to try again.
"Just be quick about it," I reply as I brace myself for the pain.
I can't help the small whimper that escapes me as he once again runs his long fingers over my foot. He moves my foot in several different directions, and I finally just lay back on the cement, clench my eyes shut, and bit my lip as I wait for him to be done.
"Lee, I'm not sure what all you did, but it's pretty bad," he says as he gently lays my foot on the ground. I prop myself up on my elbows so I can see him better. "It's definitely broken, but I'm willing to bet that some tendons and ligaments are broken as well."
"I can put it in a splint and wrap it for now, but you really need to see someone who actually knows what they're doing."
He pushes himself off the ground and goes to the trunk to start digging through bags.
"Well Q, that would be nice, but where exactly are we going to find someone who knows what they're doing?" I ask him from where I'm sitting.
"Well," he calls from his spot in the trunk as he gathers the supplies, "there's 2 different hospitals in the city, so our best bet would be to keep on the way we were going until we get in. Then, we can just go to the hospital instead of the orthodontist's and just hope for the best."
He somehow still manages to sound optimistic even in this kind of a situation. He really is a strange person.
He walks back over to me with his arms full of medical supplies. He's got everything from medical tape to antibiotics to tongue depressors.
"Okay, I'm just going to warm you: this is going to hurt like h*ll. I've got to straighten out and brace your toes or else the bones will grow back crooked. And the foot will take a decent amount of work to fix, so just try to be still, and I'll make this as quick as possible," says Q as he arranged all the supplies.
He starts to reach towards my toes and for a second I freak out.
"Wait!" I cry. He stops and looks up at me with a confused expression on his face.
I grab a wash rag that he has sitting on the ground and put it between my teeth before giving him a thumbs up and laying back down on the road. Wouldn't want to draw the infected.
I clench my eyes shut and release a muffled scream as he begins to try and fix me.
