When Jax left New Haven, he was harried. A few people saw him go, and later told Sarah he didn’t look calm, or focussed. Certainly, the arrogance that was normally synonymous with Jackson Healy was absent that night as he stalked, huddled over and weary to the world around him, to the exit. Greetings and basic chit-chat were normally at the forefront of Jax’s traverse through the hospital, but that night, his sunken eyes and bag gripped protectively over one shoulder, painted a very different picture.
But Jax was on a task, and before long, the TrashBot lovingly named BLUBALZ with its phallic badge, crossed in front of Jax, who had been waiting with a fervour only matched by junkies waiting for their “last” fix, at the park. TrashBots were sizable robotic workers, their metal carbide exteriors cost the city a fair penny to create, but the amount of times he had seen people try to destroy the bots made it worth every cent. Their silver and black frames were the size of a small elephant, though the bots likely weighed at least five times what an elephant did. They were mammoth machines, and their sole use was to collect the trash left behind by the filthy litterers of the city.
Jax wasn’t sure how often TrashBots went back to their bases to empty, or recharge, or whatever they did - he really didn’t know, and usually he didn’t give a shit - so he was at a loss for exactly what to do next. Would it have emptied the rubbish already? He had thrown the case two days ago, and given the state this area of the city was usually in, he thought BLUBALZ must empty its load more often than other TrashBots usually did.
The area around him was mostly clean, as clean as Grouse Park ever really got anyway, with ingrained filth on the paths, and decaying rotundas adorned with curtains of ivy. The tyre tracks through the mould on the grass showed BLUBALZ’ path, and after a quick visual trace back, Jax figured the TrashBot must be nearly done with the park. After another couple of minutes, BLUBALZ made a small beep, and lifted its sweeping skirt, exposing the worn and rugged tires as it made to leave. Torn with what to do, but adamant his next step was to find the case so he could get more prototype Strip-tech™, Jax began a steady pace in the bot's wake. He cursed himself for not including AJ on the hunt, as AJ would surely be able to hack into the TrashBot, or at the very least put a tracker on it, so the stalk back to the base wouldn’t be as awkward.
A couple of hours later, with muesli bar wrappers shoved into his pockets (though he had been tempted to give BLUBALZ a fresh feast), Jax followed the TrashBot to it’s refuse station, where it queued behind a plethora of other TrashBots that were moving slowly into the compound via a check system. Jax was getting impatient, he wanted to go to bed, and he was sick of waiting. A nervous twitch tweaked at his mouth, and he ran a hand through his hair, mussing it before his decision was made.
A quick track around the fenceline to look for a break, or a hole, that would admit him through to the area was fruitless after Jax had searched the first side. Surely someone else had broken in here before, and he doubted security at a refuse station on this side of town was top priority. The second side of the area was just as secure as the first, and Jax felt his shoulders slacken as he neared defeat.
He rounded the corner to the third, back end of the facility and nearly hollered with delight. There was a gap in the old chain-link fence that almost shone like a beacon. ‘Enter Here’ the opening screamed at Jax, and not one to leave such a win uncelebrated, Jax sprinted to the gap, with a triumphant grin and focused eyes. Without too much ado, he slipped into the space, and used his hands to pry the fence apart where it had distorted over time and curled upon itself.
“Fuck.” He hissed as blood pooled from his hand, a sharp barb from the cut wire tearing through his flesh. Whatever, he didn’t have time for this. He kept going, ignoring the pain that was growing in his hand.
Scouring the compound, Jax noticed that the TrashBot stations all had numbers on them that matched the Bots that were currently parked inside them. Thinking, thinking, thinking, Jax tried to remember BLUBALZ’ number, but kept picturing the giant balls and penis instead. His frustration was growing, and it almost bubbled over, until he looked at his hand.
A drop of blood fell from the wound, and he watched as it splattered onto the ground. Momentarily, Jackson began to question what he was doing right now, following a TrashBot named BLUBALZ, in pursuit of a case he had stolen. Stolen. His life to this point had led to this. He felt as broken and flat as the blood droplets that were exploding on the ground beneath his outstretched arm, where the blood was now forming a river on his forearm only to cascade off at his elbow.
Jax closed his eyes, took a deep breath and turned to leave. He would go talk to Sez. They could figure this out together. He would need to say sorry for what he had said to her, even if he still believed it to be true. Jax turned, opened his eyes, and smiled.
Maybe apologising to Sez could wait, he had another ‘Enter here’ sign to follow. Jax walked up to a receptacle, adorned with a big dick that was sprayed in red, accompanied by a blue ball sack with BLUBALZ written below. The TrashBot being tagged at the trash depot made sense, a parked and immobile Bot was the perfect canvas for an unrequested dick pic.
Jax walked to the receptacle, which he figured was in fact a sizable parking station for the TrashBot. The exterior of it was a matching silver black to the TrashBots, and it was large enough for him to stand upright in. He stepped inside cautiously. Not quite sure what to expect, Jax pulled out a light wand and waved it around the chamber, illuminating the walls. Flecks of paint, brown patches that he hoped were scrapings of mud instead of the uncouth alternative, and bits of plant matter caked the interior. These were probably things that had been on BLUBALZ before it came in here, and since the fit seemed to be tight, the walls likely scraped most things off the machine.
There was a hatch at the end that Jax assumed BLUBALZ would empty itself into, and so he started walking towards it, only freezing when he kicked a pebble into the wall and a high-pitced TIIIIINGG sounded, reverberating painfully through Jax’s skull. The ground was mostly dirt, so for Jax to kick one of the only pebbles there was an impressive feat.
He reached the hatch and curled his fingers to try to pry it open, but the blood from the cut on his left hand made his fingers slippery which meant his grip wasn’t strong enough. Kneeling, Jax propped his bag on the ground and began to search for anything he could use to jimmy the hatch open.
So distracted by the task at hand, he didn’t notice the looming shadow until the crunch of a pebble behind him made him turn.
_____________
The next morning when Sarah woke up, she rolled onto her side, and barely caught the vomit that came tunnelling out of her mouth with the bucket Maureen had dropped off late last night. When handing the bucket to Sarah, Maureen said she had a feeling the young woman would be feeling sore and sick from the putrid water soon and was here to help.
Sarah released a weak groan as she used her tongue to clean the front of her teeth. She hiccuped, and another chunk hit the bucket. Her body ached, and the pain resonating from head to toe only exasperated the already heightened nausea she felt. More vomit rose in her throat and Sarah swallowed it, only for her body to quickly deny the inclusion of the materials to its being, and the bucket had a new guest.
Reaching over for her LENS, Sarah caught another burst of vomit in the now half-full vestibule before her. This much vomit, happening this quickly, probably wasn’t a good thing. Once she attached her LENS, and ignored the persistent prompt asking if she wanted to see her enhancements, she pinged a message to Maureen.
Sarah hadn’t noticed the digital time on her LENS when she first sent Maureen her hasty message, but looking now Sarah realised it was likely too early for the doctor to be awake. She pulled a crutch from the wall it was leaning against, and slowly hoisted herself upright. The change in position caused her tumultuous tummy to threaten an upheaval once again, but through sheer ignorance, Sarah kept it down.
Moving slowly, she reached the sink that adorned her room, left over from the days this had been built for a patient. Sarah turned the tap on, bent over and gently sucked the water in, sloshing it around her mouth before spitting it out. Trying to get rid of the foulness flavouring her mouth was her number one priority. A few more rinses, and the acrid taste was lessening. She reached for her toothbrush, then hesitated. Did she really want to instil her toothbrush with the flavours that currently danced along her tongue? No. Absolutely no. Instead, she reached for her Oral UV purifier and aimed it in her gaping maw and zapped a few times. Feeling a little better, she shuffled back to the bed, and tried to avoid facing the bucket, the smell of which threatened to make the cleansing routine Sarah had just gone through null and void.
With her hands cradling her head sadly, she perched on the side of the bed and groaned. She didn’t know what fresh hell she was currently experiencing, but this seemed unfair. Sarah had avoided being killed by a bunch of lunatic cannibals, just to wake up with what seemed like the worst hangover ever, except without the fun imbibing the night prior.
Her LENS pinged. Frowning, she thought back wondering if AJ had in fact given her an upgrade. But why would he lie about it? She didn’t realise such an upgrade was available - a neural system healing someone. She also wasn’t sure she trusted this new upgrade, it seemed a little too weird. That’s not to say Sarah was one of those conspiracy anti-vaxxer nuts who thought AI’s were going to take over and rule the world… even though there had been that one time… she just felt like this was something that would have made bigger news when it launched - if it was a legitimate upgrade.
Ignoring the prompt, Sarah fell to her side and hugged her pillow like it was a soft toy and she was a three year old who just needed their cuddly. She wondered if Jax would be awake soon so they could talk. She opened her unit and sent him a message. Unlike Maureen, Jax always had his notifications silenced in his room when he slept, so there were no concerns about accidentally waking him up. Though, the amount of times she had woken him up before he had finally made a habit of silencing his LENS was staggering. Sometimes, she mused, her brother sure was a slow learner.
While waves of nausea kept her distracted, she had a deep longing for sleep that she knew would help dissipate her pain, but it wouldn’t come. Before long her mind started replaying the events from the day before. Running from the beat cop. Something hitting her and -
Sarah paused her buzzing brain. When she was struck she was on the street, on ground level. All the transport lanes were above her, the low hum of power cells from the hover cars were a constant noise outside. How did something hit her? Scoffing when the realisation dawned on her; an archaic piece of shit petrol car had hit her. There were barely any around anymore, mostly driven by those who refused to believe technology had advanced enough to mean there were better cars; cars that could fly, and frankly, enough public transport that a car was a stupid investment anyway.
A real life petrol car had hit Sarah. She couldn’t wait to tell AJ and Jax. They would laugh it up. The thought of an old junker hitting her caused a shudder of humour to pass through her, and though it was light, it was enough that her aching body protested the jerky movements. Her body wasn’t laughing though, definitely not, and so, what little laughter there was, left her.
Wavering between fighting the nausea and the pounding headache, Sarah lay as still as she could, waiting. Waiting for the nausea and headache to lessen. Waiting for the pain to go. Waiting for something, anything. Her LENS prompted her again, almost sensing her painful suspension, asking if she wanted to be healed. She dismissed the question in one breath, with not even enough fight in her to grip onto the annoyance she felt from the message, so instead, she let it go like a feather in the wind.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Still waiting.
Sarah had no idea of the passing of time, but Maureen barged in at some point, her hair in a fluster, and the crease of her pillow still evident on her flushed cheeks. Sarah managed a weak smile at the unkempt Maureen.
“Oh Sarah, sweetie,” Maureen sat alongside the stricken woman on the bed, the weight differentiation on the mattress caused Sarah to uncurl a little, and she gasped in pain at the unsolicited movement. Maureen quickly righted Sarah, a worried furrow in her brow.
“I knew you’d be sore, but I didn’t appreciate it would be this…” Her voice trailed off as she took in Sarah’s agony, the knocked-over vomit bucket and the contents strewn over the floor.
Sarah couldn’t speak, but she hoped her eyes conveyed enough.
Maureen’s brows deepened and her eyes briefly lost focus as she sought information on her LENS. She turned back to Sarah, “Seb will be here soon with some treatment,” and began stroking her back in a gentle, soothing manner. Sarah was surprised that it helped, even if it was just a little. The power of a little motherly affection was not lost on Sarah, but she was too stricken to even begin to delve into the trauma behind that right now, so for the time being, she buried it just a little deeper, added another mental layer of concrete, and ignored the burgeoning ache in her heart.
Before long Seb, Maureen’s pseudo assistant, walked in with pain patches in one hand, a healing probe in the other and other tools balanced under his elbow. His usual tight black curls instead sat loose around his face, a sign that he had been in bed before Maureen had messaged him, and his dark eyes showed a worry that could only be beaten by Maureen’s own.
He glanced at Sarah and frowned.
“Maureen, she -”
Maureen gave a sharp nod, cutting him short.
Sarah couldn’t ask what he was going to say, the pain, the nausea, none of it would let her speak. Now there was help, it almost felt like her body was giving in to the malaise completely.
Maureen held her hand out, and Seb instantly gave her pain patches, which she quickly placed on Sarah. One on her hip, one on her calf, another on her back and then on her neck. Normally, pain patches were used sparingly. There was a limited supply of them in the hospital, and though Maureen had her supplies topped up regularly, pain patches were one of those miracle cures that were reserved for only the worst cases.
Which, it turns out today, was Sarah.
“Sarah, hon, I’m sorry but I have to roll you over.”
Her eyes involuntarily widened in horror, bile rose up in anticipation of the pain, but Maureen just slowly nodded, “I know, but I need to put the rest of the patches on.”
Slowly, and with great care, Maureen and Seb rolled Sarah onto her other side. Waves and waves of nausea shot through her, and a feeling of utter desolation overcame Sarah as she vomited a torrent of bile onto the wall and bed. Groaning, she wanted to apologise for the mess, the miasma of the smell, but before she could, Maureen spoke and told her it was okay.
Maureen meant it too. Her and Seb were used to this. Sometimes worse than this. Seeing Sarah in this state had her feeling a mix of sorrow and longing - a longing to do more. But, being near homeless, and living in New Haven, Maureen knew Sarah had no where she could go for help, and no one else to go to. Other than Jax, Sarah had no one. Maureen had always had a soft spot for the duo, the big sister who tried beyond reproach to help her little brother. The little brother who always resented the help, fighting and revolting however he could. Maureen could always see their intentions passing like ships in the night - never being able to work together to create a harmonious team. Since they had come to New Haven seven years ago, Maureen’s motherly instinct had kicked in, and she worked to build a strong rapport with them both. If nothing else, she wanted them to know they could come to her for help - medical or otherwise - and it had begun to work, only recently, but it was something.
A coldness touched Sarah as Maureen placed the remaining patches on the other side of her body, the goosebumps giving her a feeling other than pain that she clung to. Then, as quickly as the goosebumps had arrived they were gone - pain overrode the new sensation and Sarah was rolled onto her back, away from the vomit.
Once again Sarah ignored the message, her irritation at what AJ had done to her LENS growing.
Maureen gently guided Sarah’s head, moving the dirty hair that was slicked to her face, and sighed as she looked at the pale face on the pillow.
Seb held out the freshly cleaned vomit bucket, and did good work to catch the new addition as Maureen stepped to the side once Sarah had been rolled back over. Seb winked at Sarah, and she let out a sardonic snicker. Maureen and Seb were a good team, she had to admit.
“We’ll give this a quick minute, then start doing more healing on you. It’s hard because we don’t want to overload your cells and body, but this,” Maureen waved her hand, “isn’t good. And short of sending you to a real hospital -” she raised her hand to stop Sarah from talking “-which yes, I know we can’t do - I’ll do what I can.
“But, really Sarah, if this doesn’t help, I’ll drag you there myself, because short of that, you’ll be leaving in a coffin and I’ll be damned if that’s happening to you while I’m around.”
Quietly, Sarah blinked slowly at Maureen, hoping the doctor realised it was her way of conveying immense appreciation at the care she was delivering.
Before long, the healing probe was over Sarah, working its magic, and she was feeling well enough to sit up. Maureen helped her move to the lone chair in the room, where Sarah sat, barefeet, curled toes on the seat, with her knees up as a makeshift pillow.
Sarah didn’t have the energy to feel guilty as Maureen and Seb, gloves donned, changed her bedding, scrubbed the wall and mopped the volumes of vomit from the room. The lack of argument from Sarah only served to increase the worry Maureen had for her. The doctor normally had to fend Sarah’s protests left and right to check her over, but now, a grubby head with forlorn eyes, and dirty feet, offered no resistance.
Finally, the room was clean, the smell of vomit gone, replaced by the smell of cleanliness and the air purifier was hard at work. After a sip of water proffered from Seb, Sarah cleared her throat.
“Have you seen Jax?” she asked Maureen.
Maureen looked at Sarah carefully, almost choosing her words. “Not since last night.”
Sensing an incomplete sentence, Sarah prompted “But…?”
“He also hasn’t been home since last night.” There were ways Maureen could check on who came and went in New Haven. Though the hospital was an unofficial residence, there were still allowances insofar as who was permitted in, how long people were allowed to stay, and there were checkpoints where people had to have their LENS’ checked to ensure they had valid entry to the site, and even to certain floors. Some floors were for short-term stay only, whereas others, like Sarah’s, were for more permanent residents.
“What time is it?” Though Sarah could check her LENS, interacting with that right now seemed far more draining than simply asking Maureen and Seb.
“Near enough to midday,” Seb replied.
“I better ask AJ if he’s seen Jax,” Sarah said, and tried to stand.
Maureen glared at her, and Sarah sat back down, trying in vain to ignore the fierce stare the matriarchal figure was currently giving her.
“Maybe I’ll ask him later,” Sarah said, and smiled weakly.
Sarah didn’t quite get around to asking AJ later, having spent the remainder of the day, and well into the evening, laying in bed. The pain patches were doing their job well - she definitely wasn’t feeling as awful, but walking, talking and interacting with others required a physical and mental fortitude she just did not have right now. Plus, she reasoned, Jax had said she didn’t need her in his life anymore.
Her stomach grumbled, and she wondered if the cafeteria would have any food left. There was normally a drop in the morning, which disappeared throughout the day as New Haven residents filled their coffers for their days.
Moving her hands to support as much of her weight as they could, she gingerly sat up, Sarah took utmost care not to kick off bubbles of pain through her body, and to her surprise, she felt mostly okay. Her bones and muscles were feeling less ragged, and the feeling of stacked hematomas over her body was reducing in severity. Her stomach, on the other hand, wasn’t so great, and the headache was ever present, though it had lessened in severity when she had taken her LENS off. Gritting her teeth in preparation, she gently lifted her legs to move them to the side of the bed, and prepared to hoist herself out of bed when a knock on her door stopped her.
She wondered if she could ignore the knock. Surely whoever it was would just go away. Or send her a message on her LENS. She glanced at her LENS, laying on the floor next to her bed. Maybe they already had and she hadn’t answered?
She gave in. “Yeah?” Fatigue suddenly overcame her as the thought of socialising took away what little reserves she had just restored from her day in bed.
“Just me,” Seb stuck his head of black curls through the opening. He had used the master code to get in - something few people knew but part of his privilege as a medical worker.
“Oh hey,” Sarah said, relieved that it was Seb instead of a pseudo friend. She had known Seb for a long time, and though he wasn’t a close friend, she was comfortable enough around him. She would have to be now anyway, since he had caught her vomit earlier and just smiled while doing it.
“I bought you some kai,” he said. Kai was Maori for food, and though he wasn’t born in New Zealand, his parents were, and his speech was littered with Maori language and Kiwi-isms. Sarah was always impressed with how well received it was to the residents of New Haven. They weren’t the smartest or the friendliest of people, but they weren’t bigots or racists, and that was great.
“Thanks,” she reached out to grab the bag he offered her, and gasped when she saw what was inside. “Is that… chocolate?” Sarah pulled out a slab the size of her face.
Chocolate was such a rarity, she was ecstatic at the near-gold she now held in her hands. Cocoa beans had nearly become extinct since the South American War of Intolerance, and the trade almost became extinct. But when you could get it, it was expensive. “Wow, Seb, I can’t.” Sarah shook her head and tried to give him the bar back. She bit her lip at the pain that ricocheted through her from the effort.
He held his hands up defensively. “Not from me, from Maureen.”
Sarah scowled, Maureen was too good to her, and she already owed her so much, she just added this to the mental tally.
“Thanks for bringing it by,” Sarah said, raising the bag. She repositioned herself on the bed, lightly shuffling so her back would lean against the wall behind her. She paused, allowing the current wave of nausea to subside before she opened the chocolate. When offered, Seb gratefully broke a piece of chocolate off and placed it carefully on his tongue. The look of pleasure on his face must have matched Sarah’s as they both let the chocolate melt in their mouths, and they laughed. A small glimmer of joy gave Sarah a bit of fresh hope, and she was thankful Seb had stopped by, even if she had been hesitant to socialise to begin with. Plus, the chocolate filled the spot and she was glad she wouldn’t have to try to go to the cafeteria tonight, leaving it for the morning instead.
“How are you feeling?” Seb asked, once their chocolate moment had passed.
“My body doesn’t feel as broken, but my stomach and head… still aren’t great.”
“Hmmm,” Seb leaned back in his seat, thinking.
“Have you told Maureen where you fell in the water? I wonder if we need to do a sample or something like that. With what treatment we’ve given you, any basic illnesses should be gone and your stomach and headache should be way better than they are.”
“I honestly don’t remember, but Jax and AJ will know. You could ask them?”
Seb nodded. “Yeah, I think we’ll have to go on a mission.”
“Just be careful of the cannibals,” Sarah warned, motioning to her thigh, which had already mostly healed.
“Oh yeah, for sure, I won’t be anyone's kai today.”