| Gone |
[10 Apr 2009|08:43pm] |
When Rhiannon awoke, the world rushed at her. Tall, thick trees crowded together overhead and threatened to press down on her. The sun was a pale, yellow spotlight behind the tree branches. The rapid play of light and dark strained her pupils, and she had to cover her eyes. A bird's wings flapped thunderously as it landed on a trashcan. She could smell that hot garbage scent. She rolled over and vomited acid and saliva in the un-mowed grass, her stomach squeezing and twisting beyond the point when nothing else would come up. She was shaking. It was cold outside and her shoes were gone, and she couldn't get up the energy to do anything except curl on her side. She wanted to go back to sleep. Even before she remembered what happened, she remembered that it was bad.
Time passed, maybe an hour, before a jogger woke her up and tried to call 911 on his cell. Rhiannon shook her head no. There was cotton in her mind, and an ugly thing trying to push through it. She got him to call Connor's number and say to come there, wherever 'there' was. It was Jackson Park. The gold-hued statue called 'The Republic' was within sight.
Connor had left the smoothie shop behind by the time his cell phone went off, and his mind was an insistent blank as he reclaimed his bike and threw away the dregs of his drink. When the object buzzed, he checked the number and found it unfamiliar. He almost didn't answer, then decided he might as well direct the caller to the right number. As he spoke to the man at the other end of the line, a sense of worry settled lightly on his shoulders. What the hell was Rhiannon doing unconscious in Jackson Park?
He'd intended to go home, but instead the Destroyer headed over to the location he'd been told about to look for his friend. He found the statue and oriented himself from there; after that it took him less than five minutes to find her. The jogger was still there, his cellphone out as if he meant to make that 911 call after all. His tracksuit was orange. Few things irritated Connor more than a nosy civilian.
( Get Me Out of Here )
( He Took Something )
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