2019-07-13 - Total Wreck

It's late. The bar shuts down at midnight even on weeknights during the summer season and there's still work to do to close after that. Easton makes his way up the stairs of his apartment building, stopping every few steps to rest his leg and to listen. Yes, he could take the elevator but he's trying to force himself back into shape, four flights of stairs should be a breeze but by the third everyone feels like pins and needles shooting through his lower left leg and quad. The breaks also allow him to listen as he keeps feeling like he hears something or sees someone or just 'knows' that there's someone else in the stairwell. And while normally he would blow that off as his usual inability to turn off his combat instincts, with a murder in the building recently it's a good idea to make sure.

After nearly a full minute of waiting to see or hear anything in the stairwell Easton sighs at his own twichtiness and climbs the rest of the stairs to the fourth floor. He again stops at his door and listens but this time only for a few seconds before he enters the apartment and immediately locks and deadbolts the door. He stares at it, as if the locks are going to speak and reassure him that he's alone, but it somehow feels worse now. Almost on auto-pilot he reaches under the kitchen counter and pulls out his compact M18, doing a full a sweep of the
apartment. Yes, he opens both the linen closet and the shower curtain in the guest bath.

Finally forcing himself to ignore that feeling that someone is watching him, he pours himself a drink, downs it and pours another. He makes his way to the bedroom, sets the drink down on his night stand and peels off first his clothes and then finally his prosthesis. He props himself up with some pillows to have a drink and watch something until he can fall asleep. It might be minutes, it might be hours, he's learned to stop trying to make it happen.

The feeling of being back in the jeep is comforting. It's bouncy suspension and boxy lines feel comfortable and familiar but as he slowly becomes aware that there's someone in the seat next to him, someone that shouldn't be there that feeling fades. Easton turns to see the little girl. Her eyes entirely blacked out, the skin around her face laced with dark veins highlighted against pale cheeks. He doesn't freak out this time. At her initial question his brow furrows deeply and lines crease his forehead.

"We did. We came back and got you. You're safe.."

The next part sends chills down his spine as she talks about 'they always come back'. Is she talking about him still? The adults who came to save her? The children who were taken by the house in the first place? Or is the they the things that came to get her? He tries to reassure her, well mostly himself, "But you're safe now. You're not in that house anymore. This isn't real."

And with that he forces his eyes back onto the road.

Her last line causes his teeth to clench, trying to just ignore her and figure out how to get the hell out of this. He's almost sure that it's a dream. Right? Creepy little dead girl (okay, she's actually alive but right now looks very dead) in his dead jeep? That's not normal.

But then his attention is drawn to the figure in the street. He doesn't have time to stop, or even swerve, so the jeep slams right into the laughing horror. The airbag deploys, busting Easton's nose and cracking his ribs just like it did the first time. And the jeep catches fire again, though this time there was no cigarette to actually start a fire. The smoke starts to fill his lungs, and despite the impact he's still aware enough. He struggles to get out of the jeep, feeling his lungs filling with smoke, not able to see.

And then things go to black.

And with a gasp Easton wakes up on the floor, the blankets smothering his face and for the briefest of moments smelling like smoke. There's blood on the comforter and as soon as he tries to roll over he can tell that his rib is in fact busted. He manages to roll onto his back and just lie there for awhile, trying to fill his lungs with as much air as possible.

Eventually he'll get up and get cleaned up.

But right now he's just going to lay there and be thankful that he can still breathe.