Issue #187 : In The Cards
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“What’s the point, why are you wasting your stupid time with that?” Jordan’s voice sounded like it was going to crack.
“Just wait. It’s the best, trust me.” Stevie placed the stones along the track in a perfect line. The rocks were a little more smooth than usual but they didn’t have to stay in place for long. The regular train would be coming through in less than five minutes. Stevie grabbed Jordan by the arm and pulled him down to the tree-line, noticing the jogger making his way along the winding trail. “Just wait. Wait ‘til you see what that fuckin’ train does to those rocks. It’s amazing.”
As if on cue, he heard the whistle off in the distance, followed quickly by the vibration as the massive cars approached. He glanced back at the jogger as he made his way down the slope, then back at the tracks as the train pulled into view. Just a few more seconds and it would pass over the rocks, smashing them into the tiniest oblivion.
It wasn’t much in terms of entertainment, but sometimes you had to make do with what was there.
Stevie grinned in anticipation as the train rushed past.
What happened next took less than five seconds but in his best recollection, it would seem like hours.
The wheels had caught one of the rocks not quite squarely and, instead of smashing it, had sent it hurtling outward at an incredible speed. Stevie actually felt the heat of something brush past his cheek and he slapped at it, turning his head as if he had been bitten by a bug. He looked in time to see the jogger, several hundred feet away jerk suddenly. His head snapped forward and then bounced back, blood spraying into the air around him as he fell limply to the side of the path.
“Oh, sweet Jesus,” Stevie said.
“What?” Jordan asked, turning to look. Stevie grabbed him and wrenched him forward. “Ow! What? What are you doing?”
“Just come on, I forgot about something I got to do at home, otherwise Mom will wreak my ass.” He pulled Jordan and managed to keep from him noticing what had happened. He hadn’t meant for that to happen, what were the odds? They weren’t going to pin this on him, he just had to get away. It was a freak accident, no reason for his life to be ruined. There would be no way to figure out that he had been there. Nothing to tie him to this.
It took less than a day before he started chipping away at himself from the inside, scratching to get out, to force himself into doing the right thing. He didn’t want to get in trouble but that guy hadn’t deserved to die. The whole thing had been an accident. It’s not like it was a crime to put rocks on the train tracks and there was no way he could have known that was going to happen. It was a freak accident and the police would have to see that.
Still, he had somewhat of a history. They all knew him by name at the small town station. What reason would they have to believe him now? Why would they take anything he had to say seriously?
By the time he got to day five, his nagging guilt had turned into a full blown depression, inwardly despising every breath he managed to draw. Why did this have to happen to him? Why did that stupid jogger have to be out at just that time? Why the hell couldn’t the guy jog at a health club like everyone else on the planet?
On day seven, his mind was wandering so much that he didn’t even see the truck barreling through the red light before it ran him down.
The world around him became muffled, spinning as if it had become unhinged. There was a sensation of bouncing around in some kind of vehicle but he couldn’t see very well. People were shouting but he couldn’t understand them. Someone moved him, lifting him up and placing him on what felt like a bed. Something cool was pressed to the side of his head and he felt moisture. The world around him felt like a filmy substance had been smeared onto his eyes so that he couldn’t see properly. The voices began to come through again and this time he could understand some of them.
“…extensive damage to the spleen and spinal…”
“…not sure if we can stabilize…”
“…get some pressure on that before he bleeds out! He’s already…”
“…I can’t do work that extensive, I’m only here as a floater from St. Anthony’s. He needs to get into surgery now if we have any…”
“…how can you not have a surgeon on staff? Is that even legal? This kid is going to die if he doesn’t get up there now!”
Stevie felt like he was falling, spinning down into a deep hole. It felt like someone was drawing a warm blanket around him and he closed his eyes. As the sound dwindled away above him, he heard one last utterance before darkness set in.
“…We’re still waiting for a new surgeon. Ours was killed last week in a freak accident while he was out jogging…”
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