I woke up; I was back in the office again. I was laying on one of our make shift beds on top of a table. My whole body ached. It felt like I’d been hit by a truck. There was something covering the left side of my face. I reached up to touch it and felt something wet and sticky. I glanced down and saw that I was shirtless, but had bandages down the left side of my chest. In a panic, I sat up and tore off the bandage that was on my face. I was very relieved to be able to see out of my left eye. I saw that my left arm was pretty well wrapped up too.
I breathed a sigh of relief when I found nothing broken. It looked bad, but it was mostly just cuts and scrapes from the glass and concrete that I was propelled into. Sitting on the table, I looked around the room. There was no one there, but I could hear voices in the next room. I swung my legs over the edge of the table and stood up. My head started to spin. I felt my face hit the floor and blood run down my face. Everything faded out again.
I came to again. I was back on the table again. Somebody must have picked me up and re-bandaged my face. I still felt woozy, but much better this time. Stephanie and Ben were standing over me this time.
Ben spoke first, “Jeez, man, take it easy this time. You took quite a spill back there. Went right through the windshield. Flew about twenty feet. I thought we were gonna have another dead guy to shoot.”
Stephanie just shook her head, “It was pretty bad. You were bleeding all over. You’ve been out for about two days. Plus a couple of hours from that last little spill you took.”
“Jeez, was anybody else hurt?”
Steph said, “Just a few cuts and scrapes. You were the worst.”
Ben said, “You kept muttering something about a key and a game, what was that all about?”
“I have no idea. I don’t remember anything after I went through the glass.”
Ben cut in, “Well I wouldn’t worry about it, you were in pretty bad shape at the time. BW wanted to talk to you when you woke up. Should I go and get him?”
“No, give me a few minutes. I’ve gotta go to the bathroom too.”
This time I got up a little slower. I was pretty unsteady on my feet, but could at least stand up without passing out again. Before I went to the restroom, I looked out the window.
Stephanie came up behind me, “There are more of them every day. Why do they keep coming here? There can’t be many more survivors than us. You’d think they’d go somewhere with more people.”
“I don’t know if there is anywhere with more people.”
I shakily made my way to the bathroom. I stepped in and took a look in the mirror. I didn’t look too bad. Most of my torso was wrapped in gauze. I could see dried blood on the bandages, but I think I had stopped bleeding. I lifted the gauze off of the left side of my face. I had a nasty gash running from my forehead to my lower cheek. It was still wet, but seemed to be healing. It was crudely sewn up and looked clean enough. I put the bandage back down.
I took a drink of water and just stood there staring at my reflection in the mirror. I realized I barely recognized myself anymore. The wounds made me look like I’d aged ten years. At least my eyes were still the same green as they always were, but even they seemed to be different. Just tired or something. I wonder if this will ever end.
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