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Rated: 18+ · Other · Crime/Gangster · #1017678
Another installment of the near future short story I'm trying to write.
The night was hot and heavy, and the rain didn't do anything but make it worse. The van's wipers moved rythmically across the glass, clearing it for a few seconds at a time before a thousand kamikaze raindrops reached their final destination. I'd found a road a little while after leaving the place where I'd woken up. Following it wasn't too hard, even with the storm doing it's best to get me lost.


I shifted my foot, heard it squelch in a puddle of wet stuff. I glanced down, found that blood as well as water was pooled at my feet. The wounds in my leg must've opened with all the walking around I'd been doing. After awhile, I could feel the life running out of me, feel the cold chill of death closing in despite the warmth of the day. My only hope was to reach the city, find some sort of hospital. Hell, I didn't even have to do that much. All I had to do was find somebody who gave enough of a damn to call for help when I collapsed in front of them and bled all over the street...


That shouldn't be too hard, not even on a night like this. Despite the gloom and dark caused by the storm I figured it couldn't have been more than mid afternoon. Shops would be open. People with umbrellas would be running errands on the rain slicked sidewalks. At least, that's how I pictured it.

Guess I had a pretty good imagination.

Thunder rumbled as I passed the sign that marked the city limits. Whatever the city's name was, it had been worn off the sign some time ago. Fitting. I didn't catch the population or elevation. Didn't matter. Some part of my mind told me somebody in that city hadn't taken much of a liking to me. It told me they might not be too happy if I showed up again, alive and kicking and with the blood of two men on my hands. I told that part of my mind to shut the hell up unless it had something constructive to say.

Time passed, and I barely noticed. It could have been hours, or it could have been minutes. The rain made it hard to see much. I barely saw the buildings I passed as I made my way into the city. They might have been industrial. Closer to the city's center, they started to get taller. Skyscrapers began to lose their tops in the clouds. They gave me the unpleasant image of people in over their heads, unable to get out of whatever they'd gotten into. Kinda like me, I guess.

My vision started to blur. Blood loss, I guessed. Already the fingers on my good hand were numb. Time to stop driving and start looking for help. I turned the van up onto the side of the street, tires jumping the curb and planting themselves on the sidewalk. People might have shouted in alarm or anger. I made sure the empty pistol was tucked securely into my waistband, and stumbled out into the rain.

The world swam in front of me, even though my feet were planted. I took a step forward, nearly lost my balance, and caught myself with my wounded leg. It wasn't so much pain as it was my leg giving up and throwing in the towel. It had had enough, and wanted me to get the message. I slammed against the hood of the still running van, fingers trying to grip the slippery wet metal. I slid down onto the street, onto my knees. Leaned against the front tire for support and hoped like hell somebody called in an ambulance.

I took a moment to catch my breath, then hauled myself up onto my feet. Get up, damn you! Had to get to my feet.... Keep moving! Stay alive! Using the hood for support I edged my way over onto the sidewalk. I couldn't tell if there was anybody around. I had tunnel vision now, and there were big dark spots floating around. There was something in front of me, though... a big, bright neon sign that I couldn't read because I couldn't focus on the letters. There were flashing lights. I left the support of the van and lurched towards the sign. Neon lights meant bars, clubs, strip joints... places where there would be people.

I got in one more lurching step before gravity stepped in and showed me who was boss. After the beating I'd taken, I figured hitting the sidewalk with my face wasn't the worst I could do. Still, it hurt like hell. I thought I heard footsteps, voices, but couldn't make any of it seem real. I smelled perfume, and then it all went black.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1017678-Sunny-Side-Down-Chapter-Twoish