Painless

Chapter Thirteen

I flew through the air about fifteen feet before hitting the ground with a crack. When I opened my eyes again, Agent Carson was hovering above me, shouting my name and checking for a pulse.

            “What are you doing?” I croaked. I began coughing as soon as I spoke, and had to take a minute to just breathe, which for some reason was difficult to do at the moment. “I’m fine. Stop it! I said I’m fine!”

            Agent Carson took a step away from me.

            “Okay, okay. I get it, you’re fine! But you were out for at least thirty seconds and your shoulder looks kind of funny…”

            “Already over it,” I said, brushing off his concern.

            I sat up and my head immediately began to swim—and not because of the foxy fella in front of me who was shooting me the puppy dog eyes. Maybe I wasn’t exactly ‘okay’ after all, but at least I was conscious, which meant I was still alive. And really, that’s all that mattered at the moment.

Alive, good. Dead, bad.

            “I really think we should get you to a doctor. Something’s just not right with your shoulder…” Agent Carson began again.

            I turned to give him a dirty look, but my eyes weren’t moving as quickly as my head was, making me dizzy all over again and now slightly nauseous. When the feeling passed, I fixed my eyes on his. “I don’t feel pain, remember? The shoulder can wait,” I said. “What the hell happened, anyway?”

            A quick look around showed carnage on all sides. Black soot covered everything. The door and front wall that had made up Benji and my room were gone, splinters of wood and other debris lay all around us. Parts of the room were on fire and I could hear the crackling sounds as it burned, and smelled the acrid scent of burning hair.

            Or was that flesh?

“Where’s Benji?” I asked suddenly, remembering there had been three of us. I struggled to stand, but was having trouble pushing myself up. Agent Carson grabbed me under my arms and gave me a tug. I staggered toward the now destroyed hotel and prayed to see my friend alive—and preferably in one piece. “Benji! Where are you! Freaking answer me or I’m going to get supremely pissed off!”

            I began to lift up furniture and piles of plaster, hoping to find him underneath. If he went and died on me, I was so gonna kill him! I began to panic as the minutes passed and I said a silent prayer that Benji would be okay.

            Please, please, please…

“Bliss, he’s over here!” Agent Carson yelled when I was just starting to get to the bargaining section of my conversation with the universe.

            I ran over to where he was standing and knelt down beside the crumpled form of my friend. Then I froze. Benji’s entire face was covered in dirt. In fact, the only part of his skin that wasn’t cloaked in ash were the bloody parts, and even then, there was so much of it that I couldn’t tell where it was all coming from. The colors blended together to create a brownish-red hue that would’ve earned the name “Hot Mess” in the crayon box.

            At first I couldn’t tell whether he was breathing or not and had to lean down over him to search for signs of life. When I finally felt his breath tickle my cheek softly, I nearly cried out with happiness. Instead, I took out my cell phone and dialed 911.

            Celebrating would have to come later.

            “Bliss, I don’t think he’s doing well.”