The Hand of God [The Open Novella Contest | Ambassador Pick]

Chapter 2. The Awakening

When the young man awoke, he did not know who he was, much less where he was. He moved his hands to his head to try to understand the pain he felt.

When he tried to move, he noticed that everything seemed to move with him. He looked around and found that he was on a stretcher. With some effort, he managed to get up and, looking at the great room around him it became clear that he was in a hospital. What he was in looked like a stall, but the curtains were torn and he could see all the other stretchers. Some standing, some fallen, all scattered for some reason.

He made one more effort to turn around and put his feet out. As he step on the floor, he felt a twinge in his head. Something had happened there. He felt as if he had taken a shock. Maybe someone has used a defibrillator on me. Stunned, he only realized the wires attached to his arm when he tried to walk. He pulled them carefully. His hands were shaking.

When he was finally free, he realized he did not know what to do. There was no one there. Well, no one alive. On the few stretchers which were still in place, rotting bodies created a terrifying atmosphere. High broken windows and the wind passing prevented the smell of being very bad.

The young man noticed there was a desk in the room, where doctors and nurses should be. He walked slowly up there, trying not to make any sudden movements and avoiding the twinges in his head. He got around the desk, entered the administrative area of the room and noticed a broken mirror on the wall. He walked there to clean up the dirt, but it didn't help much.

Only when he took his shirt to use the fabric on the mirror he noticed that he was wearing a blue hospital gown. Am I a doctor? With a little effort, he cleaned up the fragments that remained in the frame and, for what seemed the first time, saw his own image. The curly black hair went down to his shoulders. His face was thin, sunken eyes. His skin was pale dark, as if it hadn't caught any sun for a long time.

He put the shirt back, even dirty, and decided to turn his attention to the desk. There was a computer, a telephone and several scattered and dusty papers. He took the phone from the hook, but there was no sign. Tried to turn on the computer, but there seemed to have no energy. He sat in the chair. He didn't know if he wanted to cry because it was so strange that he didn't even know what to feel.

He sat in the chair carefully, afraid to fall, and took a deep breath. While thinking about what to do, he began to stir the papers and to try to organize them. When finished joining the sheets, he noticed that there was a sticky note next to the computer keyboard, which read:

Take the patient records to the second floor

Done!

Suddenly, the situation seemed to have gotten a little easier. My file must have a minimum of information for me to know what's going on. He got up again and walked toward his stretcher, where he found an identification number: 302106. From there, he went to the nearest door. Arriving there, he found it locked. He tried to force a little, but did not feel strong enough to actually do it.