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Fool's Gold: Michael: Alone

by Nikolle Freeman 12 months ago in Short Story
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Left for dead but still alive.

The airfield was cold and abandoned, the same as the small figure left bleeding on the strip.

Michael, being 11 and only having movies as knowledge for injuries, had always thought waking up from a hit to the head was quick and with a gasp. Instead, he groaned lowly and struggled to lift himself onto his forearms. After many failed attempts, Michael succeeded in getting onto his hands and knees. He shivered, then hissed in pain as the trembling jostled his head. His right arm felt wet and sticky and his head was pounding.

Michael groggily opened his eyes, he couldn't see anything. He began to panic; he was blind!... Was he blind? He closed his eyes and gently shook his head.

Michael shakily raised a hand to his face and recoiled at the viscous, tacky substance he felt on his right cheek. He reopened his eyes quickly and groaned in pain at the feeling of vertigo he was hit with.

'Gotta move slowly,' he thought, panting as he held back the need to vomit.

It was as if the clarity of having a thought brought Michael to the realization that he could, in fact, see the dark outline of his hands against the asphalt. He could also make out a large puddle next to his hand. Michael sighed in relief, he wasn't blind after all. He rubbed his fingers together and grimaced, it was blood. The right side of his face, and the asphalt he was laying on, was covered from the gash on his temple. Michael wasn’t sure how he wasn’t dead right now, the amount of blood on the asphalt and covering his face was more than he’d ever seen in any movie.

"Em, are you ok?," Michael slurred, as he tried to turn his head," Em, where are…." Michael froze. His sister... she was gone. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and Michael stood abruptly,"Em?!," He screamed, vision going darker as he swayed in place. They took her. Michael gave a watery hiccup, his eyes filling with tears. "Em…," he whispered despondently,"...oh, Em, please be ok."

Michael collapsed backwards, only just catching himself and avoiding another head injury. He couldn't formulate more words, instead he gasped for air and choked on sobs. The military men were supposed to help, not take his sister away and leave him for dead. Every adult had told him, as he grew up, that the military was protecting them. So, why had they hit him?

Michael tipped his head back with a wail. He knew crying wouldn’t help his situation, but there was only so much he could take. His parents had abandoned them and now, his sister was gone and he wasn’t sure how he would find her. His cries echoed along the runway, cutting into the quiet noises of the evening. Michael wasn’t sure how long he sat there crying but once his wails died down to wet coughs and sniffles, he began to take in his current situation. He had to

There were bodies strewn across the runway. Michael wasn’t sure if he knew any of them, but he did know he would need to see if they had anything he could use to get cleaned up before he made the trek back home. He cautiously rose to his feet, still dizzy and feeling queasy. He stumbled towards the first person, no, they weren’t people any more. Michael struggled to remember the word his father had used to describe some of the people he worked with. The temperature had dropped during the time he was unconscious and he knew he’d need to stay warm to survive the rest of the night.

He grunted as he pulled on the jacket the-, what was that word, thing had on. It was a short word, and his father always said it in a mean voice. He had said that majority of his coworkers were...dumb? Drips? Dre..that was it! They were the dregs of the IT world.

Michael did his best not to look at the dreg’s faces, he didn’t want to know who they were. It was best to not see them as a person, it made taking their clothes and goods an easier task. They didn’t need their stuff anymore and he did. He searched the pockets of the jacket and found keys and a wallet. He kept the keys and rooted through the wallet for cards and cash. Michael wasn’t sure if money would mean anything any more but it wouldn’t hurt to have some cash or access to money, if need be.

Michael stared blankly at the watch the dreg was wearing. 2 AM, it read, he was fairly certain that he and his sister had arrived around 10 PM to catch the plane. He sank to one knee and began to take the watch off, he had been out for hours and no one had helped him. None of the adults that had been at the airfield had even cared that he had been injured. Just like his parents; they only cared for themselves. Michael grit his teeth as a burning feeling of anger grew in his chest. He had no one that he could trust anymore, only Em.

That was fine by him, being alone would help him do, and get, what he needed. He’d rather loneliness than having someone abandon or betray him again. He would survive this nightmare of a new world and find his sister, he was the only one who could protect her.

Michael stood slowly, his head throbbing from pain; or was it the rage boiling in his gut? He tossed the watch in his hand a few times. Time really meant nothing now, but the watch itself, gold and expensive looking, could be worth something. He put it in his jacket pocket and balled his hands into fists. He turned his head towards the rest of the dregs.

“I’ll find you, Em,” he murmured, ”no matter what.”

Short Story

About the author

Nikolle Freeman

Aspiring horror/thriller writer. Currently working on short stories/prompt fills. I have a larger piece I am working on and look forward to opportunities on Vocal.

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