New Eden-World's Near End

Chapter Four

   Bradley's eyes snapped open and he instantly winced in pain. He closed them and kept them that way for a couple seconds. What the hell? Slowly he cracked his lids open to see the world around him.

   It was dark. Why was it dark? And why is it so hard to breathe?

   Bradley inhaled slowly. His throat and chest felt constricted. Remnants of a recent attack. Attack! Bradley's memory came back and he made to get up form where he lay on the floor. He froze and groaned as pain racked his body. He cursed and lowered himself back to the floor.

   The Bugs. They had attacked us in the street, he remembered. He remembered getting pushed around, and falling and nearly getting trampled. He remembered running for his life and he remembered Jeff.

   Jeff. That was the kids' name; the one he locked outside.

   Bradley cursed silently and closed his eyes against the dark. He wished so badly that everything was just a bad dream right then. That there was no quarantine and that no one had died, and that everything was alright. Bradley opened his eyes to the same darkness, and the pain he felt told him that this was reality.

   Not a dream.

   Bradley attempted to sit up again, more aware of his condition and ready for the pain. He hurt all over. He hoped that nothing was broken. Bradley decided to give himself a quick check up.

   His elbows and places on his arms were scraped up. They ached when he moved them around, but he didn't think nothing there was broken. Bruised, but ok. His legs felt numb and heavy with fatigue, but again, he seemed ok there too. His back thought, felt worse. Bradley recalled how he'd nearly been trampled by the fleeing crowd. Feet had pounded down on his body as he struggled to get back up. Surely, his backpack had protected him.

   Bradley inhaled deeply and winced at the slight discomfort. Nothing felt broken. Dislocated maybe, although he wasn't even sure if one could dislocated a spine or a rib. He was definitely going to be sporting a lot of bruises though.

   When Bradley shook his head he stopped instantly and gasped. His head felt as though it was filled with rocks. He raised his hand to check and felt a large knot at the back of his head, most likely where he'd been kicked. His face had suffered from an impact during that same attack. His chin and cheek were scraped and his lip was busted up. Bradley shook his head again. The rocks rattled around.

   Concussion? Yeah. Bradley had definitely taken some damage. But he was alive, and grateful for that fact. He was also grateful for his overprotective parents, seeing that they had always impressed upon him the importance of being prepared. That being that Bradley had something of a med kit with him at all times.

   Because of his health condition his mother had always insisted that he never leave home without a list of basic supplies. It annoyed the hell out of him that his mother pampered him to such an extent. Over time, though, Bradley had gotten to see the practical sense of it and had even added to the list himself. Bradley emptied his bag and took inventory.

   There were a couple of notebooks which he pushed aside. His French textbook. Didn't need that either. There was his iPad. He examined it. The screen was cracked in several places and the aluminium case was dented. He pressed the power. The display came to life, but the screen was way too messed up to be of any use. Then again, he thought, it did save my back from being crushed. He placed it back into the bag.

   Next he pulled out a Ziplock sandwich bag. This was his med kit. He had half a dozen band aids, a small roll of cotton gauze, and a bottle of Asprin painkillers. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. Bradley also had his inhaler. He hefted it he and guessed that it was half full. That was good. He wasn't sure how long it would be before he could get a new one, so he had to make what little he had last.