O'Leary

Asher? Where are you, buddy?

SigRyd3r

Riding his signal. Keep rolling. I'll direct you to him.

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Asher

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The creature sped towards him.

Asher couldn’t get an exclamation out or his arms up in a weak defense before the bunny hopped over him at top speed and slammed like a bowling ball into the top of a garbage can, positioned like the front pin. It was a strike as all three cans rattled over and garbage spilled out into the alley. The bunny landed, gave a foot thump, shook his fur, and then went to work, using his front paws and teeth to dig through the trash. “We have to do this quick before the trash is in sight of the shades and gets locked down.”

Asher couldn’t keep track of the bunny’s movements as he darted in and out of cans among a chaotic whirl of spraying trash.

“Here. Got one. Two-leg, are you still with me?”

“Yeah, I’m here. Name is Asher.”

The bunny stopped and quirked his head to the side as if looking at something floating in the air. He kept one eye on the spot, even changing positions, as he drug over a half-eaten discarded sub sandwich to Asher’s uninjured side. It was still partially wrapped in wax paper. The critter set about tearing off the wrapper. Free from captivity, the sub flopped open. “Okay. You need to eat.” He nudged the open sub a little closer to Asher’s hand.

“Garbage?” It smelled off.

“Now.”

Asher looked down: the sub was colored. Wilted green lettuce, slightly withered red tomato slices with a hint of green at their center, double thick white cheddar cheese, soggy bread, three different deli meats ranging in color from white to reddish brown and it was all marinated in yellow and semi-transparent sauces. Yum.

“Start with the cheese. Leave the lettuce. It’s no good.”

He had little choice. He needed help, and this creature wanted to either help him or poison him. Asher willed his fingers to move, fumbling a slice of cheese into his mouth. Then leaned his head back against the wall, closed his eyes, and chewed.

Teeth and saliva broke down the food, like always, but there were new sensations too — tingling in the roof of his mouth, his tongue, and his gums while the pain in his side dulled from a pulse to a pinch. He swallowed, but his mouth was empty. Nothing went down. The food was gone. Asher’s eyes popped open. Even his mind felt clearer. He reached into his mouth and poked a finger around. Nothing. “What’s going on?” he asked around the withdrawing digit.

“Less talking; more eating,” the bunny said as he munched down the last of the wilted lettuce.

Asher stared at the bunny. He was real. The bunny was real.

“What? I like green things. You weren’t going to eat it. Now, stop staring and eat the rest.” The bunny quirked his head and hopped around to Asher’s injured side. “Oh, you should probably yank that out now, before it heals over.”

“You can talk? You’re real?” Those were the only ones Asher got out before the flood of forming questions clogged his brain. Then only strange sounds escaped. He didn’t know why this was the thing he had trouble accepting, but his eyes stayed glued to the furry creature he’d believed yesterday was the fictional creation of some artist’s drug induced hallucination.

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“Two-leg, listen. That first slice kept you here, but if you don’t eat the rest of the sub, you’re going to cycle and then the ride is over. It gets boring here, and it’s been a while since I’ve chatted with anyone. So, for me, could you stop the nonsense, pull that glass out, and shovel the dumpster sub into your weirdly shaped mouth?”

“I can’t. I need a doctor, or I’ll bleed out,” Asher said. Bunnies were jerks. “You don’t pull an impaled object out. It’s like rule number one in first aid.”

“I said. Don’t be dumb.” The bunny spun and gave the glass shard in Asher’s side a kick with his rear legs.

“Gah!” Asher jerked in pain, then let out a string of curses his mom would laugh at; shortly before grounding him. He slapped his head back against the brick. “Why?” Tears in his eyes, he reached down for the last slice of cheese and put it in his mouth. Then, he twisted his neck to get a good look at the shard of glass in his side.

The bunny let out a small honk and chitter, then said, “Those rules don’t apply anymore. Look at it.”

Was the bunny laughing? He was laughing. Asher ignored it and focused past his tears. Part of the wound looked healed; the semi-olive skin on one side pressed firmly to the glass. Asher saw small scars around the wound, now healed cuts, probably caused by the glass as it moved. The other side was torn and bleeding again. He felt the tingling in his mouth from the cheese he chewed and noticed the bleeding slow. Then stop. The skin at the healed edge grew up the glass. His eyes shot wide open — it was looking for a way to connect to the other side and seal the wound.

“Get it now? Pull it out before you heal it in. If not, it’ll keep trying to push through the skin and drain your energy. Plus, it can’t feel very good.”

“I won’t bleed out?”

The bunny hung his head before answering, “It’s really hard to die these days, and cycling isn’t something I joke about. Now, be brave, give it a yank, shove the rest of that sub into your mouth, and chew.”

Asher and the bunny jerked their heads to the left as they heard a door slam open. “This might get interesting,” said the bunny.

“Oh crap. Harry! Someone knocked over the trashcans again,” called a voice from around the corner. “I can see a bunch of scattered garbage. Can you pass me a broom and some gloves?”

Asher knew what that meant. He stopped thinking, or tried, bleeding out is how Ben had died, but if Miranda were alive, maybe…

“No time.” The bunny kicked it again. Twice! Forcing the wound open wider, then he reached and grabbed the blood slick glass with his teeth and pulled. His legs pumped and his body jerked as he tried to get it free.

Asher shouted but tried to cut the noise off with the sub as he shoved it into his mouth and tore off a chunk. There was a sucking feeling mixed with pain on each tug. The bunnies’ teeth kept slipping on the glass, causing it to slide back into place. Reaching down, Asher grabbed an edge and helped pull the shard free with a united yank.

“Did you hear that? Damn kids are messing with the cans again. Harry! Pass me the damn broom. I’ve got to get out there. No, screw the gloves. I’m going to smack these punks around some.”

It was agony. For a second, Asher chewed on autopilot as his mind tried to flee from the pain. The wound started closing, and the pain receded. He didn’t wait for encouragement he quickly took another couple bites, standing as he did. Then a large man holding the broom ready to strike came around the curve in the alley. He was on the hunt.

“Where are you? You little punks!” He slammed the broom into one of the metal cans with a loud clang that left a dent behind. Asher noticed it didn’t repair itself.

“We need to go.” The bunny darted to the other side of the alley and turned to wait for Asher.

Asher agreed, but he also needed to understand something about this world. Anything. Instead of following, he stopped and took a knee near one can. He was out of the shade’s reach and he waited until the monster had his back turned.

“What are you doing?” he heard the bunny ask.

Reaching down, Asher lifted a gray candy bar wrapper off the pavement. Then set it back down.

The shade turned and moved to the garbage pile closest to Asher. He was facing Asher and only a few steps away. He tried to repeat the wrapper lift. It wouldn’t budge. Nothing was successful. He tried to crush it, fold it, shift it left and right, but it was like an extension of the alley. If he’d been running, this little wrapper could have easily tripped him. “Good to know,” he said. Looking over his shoulder at the watching bunny with a smile. He was getting the hang of this.

“Oh, he’s way too close for speaking,” said the bunny. “Watch out.”

“What? Damn kids! Where are you?” The shade lashed out, kicking the can beside Asher and swinging his broom in a wide arc.

Asher jerked his head back, dodging the kicked can, and threw an arm up to block as the broom flew at his face.