Hwy 87
Smoldering ash and debris encased Wolph’s lungs. The ceiling caves around them as they crawl and attempt to drag themselves to their feet. Coagulated blood coated their xiphoid still impaled by the pole. Dom’s jacket laid lightly in the puddle of blood on the floor. Seeing this, Wolph tore their shirt and grabbed Dom’s leather jacket and bit down on it before they stuffed their gaping hole of where the broken pole was. They let out an agonized scream, “Aghuuuuhhh!” At that moment, a loud bang sounded from one floor above. Wolph took the jacket and held the wound down while checking out the noise. Peering through the destroyed ceiling that exposed a symphony of broken wiring, dripping plasma, and leaking pipes, Wolph could see a figure moving beyond the floor. In hopes of Dom being alive, Wolph made it up the floor to find a big hole in the building. Wolph stared at the debris and then to the ring of the fiery opening that vignetted the midnight stars exposing the Draco constellation. There was Sergio’s cracked brain minced on the concrete floor, as preservation liquid surrounded it. Clicking heels crept behind Wolph and descended the staircase. Wolph snapped their head around. The staircase door ajar was now closing shut. “Beta!” Wolph attempted to run after her but they started to cough up blood. The building was collapsing all around them. “I have to get out of here.” Wolph looked around and saw a hole at the end of the lab. They ran as the floor quaked beneath them and jumped. The hole collapsed and Wolph fell to the second floor. Cement crushed Wolph’s injury and was pinned to the floor. They could hear Julli’s voice in the distance, or was it all in their head? ‘Wolph! WOLPH!’ Wolph could remember themself in the passenger seat with Julli whipping the UTV doing burnouts, ecstatically screaming ‘You see this shit, Wolph?! Hahaha!’ The sun beating against the warm sand. Wolph to the brink of barfing. Jokie chasing them with the dirt bike, “You break my shit, I’m chuckin’ your scopes in Big Joe’s portapotty!” Sid yelled at them to be careful as he tinkered with some device on the workbench. ‘Course they were only early-adolescents then. The epitome of what once were practical jokes, joy-rides, ghost stories, shared meals, tears and fragments of cached data seemed to have fizzled into the background.
