Covered In Ink

Chapter 18|Where the hell are we?

You're probably really confused right now, trust me so was I when I found myself physically stuck to the window.

I groaned, squinting as I peeled my face from the window. It was drool that held my face captive. I self consciously wiped my chin and cheeks with the back of my hand. It returned slick with my slippery saliva. I made a face. That's nasty.

I glared at the window, which was also extremely slimy, dry landscape flashing by outside blurry.

"Hey sleeping beauty, you're awake."

I leaned my head against the headrest, completely losing focus on what he just said.

"Where the hell are we?" I asked instead. I didn't see any other cars on the road. I felt that if we were to get a flat tyre of break down we'd starve, then get pecked to death by vultures, and finally, we would be consumed by rabid dogs.

"To be honest, I have no idea. But this place creeps me out," Ryan replied, as if reading my thoughts.

"That's comforting," I muttered. "What do you want to be when you leave school?" I asked out of the blue, to take my mind off our creepy setting. He must've been surprised because he said a few incoherent sentences before giving me a proper answer.

"An architect," he finally answered. I nodded picturing him on a construction site wearing a hard hat and work boots. He looked good. but didn't he always? He would probably still manage to look hot in a meat suit. Lady Gaga ain't got nothing on Ryan Martinez.

"You?" He asked.

Huh? Me what? I was so caught up in my thoughts about meat suits that I forgot what we were talking about. I'm pretty sure we weren't having a conversation about Lady Gaga's fashion statements.

"What do you want to do when you're older?" He clarified.

Oh, right.

"The goal is to do art for the rest of my life, but not many people make enough money to live off that," I thought for a moment. "I want to travel too."

"Where do you wanna go?"

I shrugged. "Everywhere. I want to go to France, Germany, Switzerland, Greece, Albania, Belgium, New Zealand, Australia, India, Croatia."

He smiled as I listed off all the places that I was dying to explore.

"What about you? Are you going to travel?" I asked.

"I'd love to travel, but with my current money situation it probably won't be for a while."

I nodded in understanding, letting a comfortable silence fill the car.

My phone vibrated on my lap, causing my leg fat to jiggle. It felt funny.

I picked it up, staring at the screen. One new message from Jeremy Johnston: we're at Fort Irwin. Caleb's been taken into surgery.

Surgery? Why surgery? I frowned down at the screen, tapping my fingernails on my phone case.

"What's with the frown?" Ryan asked.

"Why would he be in surgery?"

He shrugged. "You said he got shot so maybe they're taking out a bullet."

I nodded vaguely, hoping that he wasn't in too much pain. I mean, I know hospitals use anaesthetics but the thought of scalpels piercing my brothers skin made my own skin crawl. I tried not to worry about him because he told me that I worried too much, but I couldn't help but let questions flood my brain.

What if there was a complication with the surgery? What if something went majorly wrong? What if he didn't make it?

The unanswerable questions buzzed around in my head, making me want to cry as my brain thought of new ways to internally torture me. It had a way of discovering the worst possible scenario and making it seem like there was an entirely real possibility of it actually happening. When realistically, there was probably less than a one percent chance of it occurring. It was so real to me though, like when you have a dream about all your teeth falling out and when you wake up you have to physically check to make sure they're still there.