Death Drive

Chapter 9

Wind blasted Thomas' face as he raced into the bend, the howl of the air and the roar of the engine almost deafening but still not loud enough to muffle the yells of the cheering crowd, a roiling wave of people packed side-to-side on the stadium seats. He was bumper-to-bumper with the car in front, its exhaust hitting the visor of his helmet. He blinked to get sweat out of his eyes. They cleared the curve and accelerated as they entered one of the straights of the track. He weaved, trying to pass the vehicle stubbornly blocking his path. He squinted as the sun shone directly over the end of the straight, the light scattering in the transparent eye-covering and forming starbursts and colored beams, so he was racing towards an incandescent gate to the beyond. The only thing in his way was the leader of the race, moving side to side like pendulum intent on stopping his advance. Its red light seemed to grow larger in his eyes, and the muscles of his jaw tightened as he stepped on the gas more heavily, intent on running the car of the road, aiming for its back bumper. To his surprise, his car refused to turn. He looked down to the wheel: the car wasn't at fault here, instead his hands refused to move, paralyzed and grasping the wheel spastically. Behind him a car horn sounded, the beeps quite high-pitched and regularly paced, not really sounding like car horn at all and more like—

A beeping heart monitor was the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes, his vision slowly focusing on the undulating lines on its screen. Bustling sounds came beyond a door left ajar, and over his head hung an iv bag from which a plastic tube snaked its way to the back of his hand. His left arm hurt, the pain oddly distant. He lifted the light green blanket to see his arm in a hard sling, the movement tugging at the IV drip taped to his flesh. The brown hospital clothes he had been dressed in were a bit too short at the wrists and ankles. He ran his tongue across his teeth; all still accounted for. The tongue rubbing against his cheek was like sandpaper grinding on raw lumber. His lower lip stung as he opened his mouth. Feeling it with his hand it was swollen and hurt, the stubble on his chin revealing he had been out cold for two days at the most. He grasped the rail of the hospital bed, the cool metal feeling more real than the blurry sights and dampened sounds the room had to offer. He slowly sat up, shutting his eyes when he was upright to combat the sway of the floor. He assessed the room, turning his head deliberately. He wasn't alone; there was a young sleeping woman on an identical bed to his right. She was shackled to the bedrails with two soft, yet sturdy binds locked around her wrists. There was a clear tube running under his blanket, the rest disappearing over the side of the bed. Still foggy, he pulled at it experimentally and then tensed, eyes shooting open. He had found his urinary catheter. He was looking for a way to lower the sides of his bed when a nurse walked in. She was in her forties and had brown skin and black hair.

"Take it easy, Mr. Walker," she said, stepping by the bed. "There's no rush."

"What happened?" He was seeing double, the woman appearing to be accompanied by her transparent twin mimicking her every movement. He pressed his eyes closed and when he opened them his vision was normal.

"How about you tell me? What's the last thing you remember?" Her eyes quickly moved over the readings of the medical equipment while she spoke.

Memories surfaced in flashes, snapshots of the last seconds before a total void in his recollection. "I crashed. Two cars, one behind the other. Self-driving. What about the kid, Jason? Is he alright?"

She hesitated for a moment. "The boy is fine; he was the who called the ambulance."

"What about me? Anything permanent?"

"You got lucky, considering the odds. Apart from a compound fracture in you left humerus and a few scrapes there was no visible damage. Your arm was operated as soon as you came in, the surgeons fixed with some plates and screws. You should avoid any heavy lifting for a few days, but otherwise you can use it as you please. You're currently recovering in the surgery ward."