Cease the Second Kind

Chapter 4--In Media Res

2050 AD 

ENTROPY! The girl shot up from a deep sleep, falling out of the plastic chair and hitting her head on the ground.  She saw bright lights in her eyes as she was hit on sore spot on her head.  The girl groaned in pain and curled on the ground.  It was a bittersweet dream that startled her.  In her mind, she screamed entropy and all horror seemed to erupt within her mind, shocking her awake.  It was that distasteful word: entropy.  She couldn’t help but feel that it was entropy that got her where she was.

            She rubbed her forward and got to her knees and looked out the shattered window.  It was a gray dawn, the air lightly churning in the dawn steam from the night’s previous downpour.  It was a warm morning for sure.  She got to her feet and walked outside and her feet stepped into a murky puddle of water.  The girl crossed her arms and decided to look around for any signs of humanity, but she highly doubted that she’d find anybody.

            Bathsheba was in a depressing state.  With everything in tatters and broken, the city itself was an entropic model.  Her feet crunched on the glass in the streets, and she had to step over the arm of a dead elderly woman.  For some odd reason, the horrors did not affect, almost as if she were desensitized to the whole matter.  She dug her hands into the pockets of her old jeans, which had dried overnight.  The only reason she didn’t ditch them was because she felt a sentimental attachment to them.  Her fingers brushed on something sleek and metallic.  From pulling it out she determined that it was a metal wallet.  The red candy-shell looking case was scarred considerably, but still managed to shine in the dawn sun.

            She was stopped in the middle of the street and she decided to open the clasp and look upon its contents.  When it opened multiple pieces of paper fell to the wet asphalt and she rushed to pick them up before the water ruined them.  Gathering them up, she stood back up and looked through them.  They were photographs.  The first one was of a happy looking family, and she saw herself in the middle of it all, her hair in a bun with her bangs curled on either side of her face.  Her brain pounded in that moment as a small flow of memories came flooding back.  She remembered waking up in the morning, working on her impossible hair, teasing it into the correct fashion.  Gazing upon the other faces caused a host of memories to come back; family dinners, baseball games, barbeques.  A migraine set in, telling her that her brain couldn’t handle such a flood of emotion.

            But she was unwilling to stop looking.  The next picture was of a young boy of about her age.  He had short brunette hair and the bluest eyes she ever dared lay eyes on.  Even in the photograph they seemed to pop out the most.  Her thumb ran across the boy’s face in remembrance.  If only she could remember all their names.  The girl felt a strong attraction to the boy in the photograph, and stifled a tear.

            It was too much, and she went immediately to the next picture.  It was an older looking photo, much grainier and that told her that it must have been twenty something years old.  The faces were incredibly similar to the two adult figures in the family photo.  They must have been her parents, she assumed.  Their names escaped her, like all the others, including her own.  Her “parents” were young, somewhere in their twenties.  They beamed at the photographer as they held each other in a hug that looked like they would never let go.  The picture raised her spirits some.  The last picture was of a house. 

            The girl frowned and stared intently at it.  She had no immediate recollection of the house.  The one memory in particular brought the house back for her.  It was of her “brothers” rushing from the front door with their backpacks slung over their tiny six-year old shoulders.  They made a mad dash to the family car and got in the back seat, eager, she assumed, for their first day of school.  The photograph of the house tied everything about her family together.  Her family sitting at the dinner table conversing about their respective days, eating a delicious home cooked meal that the mother had brought to the table, watching movies in the family room.

            Tears formed rivulets down her face, and then she finally broke down and cried.  Now on her knees with her face in her palms, she sobbed uncontrollably.  The girl remained in her sad state for nearly ten minutes before she became limp and stared up at the overcast sky.  Her tears had dried on her face, leaving crusty salt trails down her cheeks.  She took her thumb and rubbed the trails from her face, then got to her legs and kept walking forward.  Her arms clutched the remnant from her past as if her life depended on it.  However, she had no desire to open it again, because she would cry if she did.

            The girl’s mind was a jumble of random thoughts and memories, flitting about her mind in, well, an entropic manner.  Her migraine returned and every pained muscle seemed to hurt twice as much.  Building after building fell behind her as she kept walking.

            Out of nowhere, a low guttural groan caused her to lift her head.  She wheeled around, looking for the groan’s source.  Her voice croaked as she attempted to speak for the first time since she woke up.  “He—” was all she could manage for the first few attempts.  Finally, “hello!” She barked at the town.  In response, the groan came again, with greater intensity.  To her left she saw an older looking man sprawled on the ground.  With all speed she limped over to him and knelt on the ground beside the man.  He was around fifty years old, with short salt and pepper hair and what looked to be green eyes.  His lips were extremely purplish, revealing his lack of blood and his low body temperature.  “Sir?” she spoke to him.

            The man turned his gaze upon her and parted his lips as if to speak, but he could only manage a groan.  His arm trembled as he lifted it slightly to point at his main injury.  He had an avulsion on his thigh, where it looked as if a dog or some animal had bitten into his flesh and tore a chunk out.  She gagged and spit up her stomach’s contents.  She shook her head and said, “I’ll be right back I promise.  I’m going to help you.”  She knew she was in no shape to help, as she was fatigued and injured herself.  However she felt she needed to save him.  That old man was the only living person she knew of, and perhaps he had some answers.

            In a limping run she returned to the convenience store and picked up gauze pads and bandages, rubbing alcohol, two bottles of water, and two granola bars.  She stuffed all the items into a plastic shopping bag and rushed as fast as she could to the injured man.  She fell to her knees from exhaustion, but the sudden rush of adrenaline allowed her to keep moving.  First thing was first.  She opened a water bottle and poured a capful.  “Drink slowly,” she said soothingly.  The man took the hint and slurped at the capful.  After ten or so capfuls, she hand fed him a few bites of granola bar and then put the food aside.

            Placing her hand on his chest she said, “This might hurt a little,” she told him as she poured rubbing alcohol on a gauze pad and proceeded to swab the area of the avulsion, cleaning it of infection.  He was in rainy weather for at least twenty-four hours, there was likely bacteria infecting the avulsion.  The man hissed in pain, his face contorted, and a loud groan escaped his lips.  “Shh,” she cooed to him, trying to calm him.  When the disinfecting was done, she produced the gauze bandages and began winding it around the avulsion, covering it from the air.  The whole time she was bandaging, the man’s eyes were wide open as well as his mouth in a silent scream.

            When the matter was over she sat with her chin on her knees next to him looking into his pained eyes.  She had so much to ask him, but she knew that he was too weak to do anything but stare back into her eyes.  It was obvious that they were going to need each other to survive from this point on.