Chapter 7
Ray awoke with a start, sitting up in the hospital bed. A tube was hooked into his wrist, attached to a clear bag holding a red substance. His first instinct was to rip the cord in his wrist out, but thought better of it.
He was in an observation room, his only privacy a translucent curtain.
One of the doctors must have seen him stirring, and came in wearing a surgical mask. He removed it and introduced himself as Doctor Morgan.
"You suffered a minor concussion due to your helmet being a bit loose, and a lot of blood loss."
Ray took notice to his arms, which were bandaged. Doctor Morgan removed the thick bandaging. Down to his elbows, both his arms were sewn shut. "There was a lot of skin loss, but we were able to implant some donated skin and muscle tissue. You should have decent use of your arms though, can you give them a try?"
Ray moved his arms in circles. He felt some strain where the stitches were, but otherwise felt fine. He felt many bruises of impact from when he rolled, but it was the roll that had prevented any broken bones.
"How long has it been since the crash?" Ray asked.
"It's been about two days," Doctor Morgan replied.
"What?" Ray gasped, standing up out of his bed, still connected to the tube. "Two days? I have to get home!"
"Stay calm, we'll get you home today. Your mother has been informed and she wants you to call her. We had to put you into a medically induced coma so we could stitch you and your wounds would seal."
"Where's my bike?"
"It's in an impound lot, but rest assured we'll get it home with you today. We've already spoken to your insurance company and they're delivering a bike here, so you can ride home if you're up for it."
The doctor put Ray on an anesthesia and removed the bag containing donated blood.
Ray gave a call to his mother, insisting that he was fine and that she didn't need to come home from her "business" trip in California.
The hospital returned his things. Ray's clothes were tattered and bloodstained, but the hospital had a replacement pair ready for him. Miraculously, his laptop had survived and still had some battery power left. He opened it and connected to the hospital's wireless network.
The first thing he did was log onto facebook. He had 34 new notifications, Someone must have found out about his crash, and had "get well soon" variants tattooed on his wall repeatedly. He looked for any thing from Ben. There was one private message.
"Hey Ray, what happened? I hope you didn't forget, give me a call when you can."
It was dated from yesterday morning.
Ray recovered his phone. It had a cracked screen, but was otherwise working. It was out of battery and wouldn't start up fully, and Ray couldn't charge it until he got home. For now, he sent a reply to Ben.
"I got into an accident Saturday night. I'm in the hospital, but I'll be home today. My phone's dead, so I can't call you until later."
He packed his things and walked to the front of the hospital, thanking Doctor Morgan and the hospital staff for making everything go swift and painless.
A white delivery truck pulled into the hospital parking lot. Doctor Morgan stayed with Ray as they rolled a new, black Kawasaki Ninja off the back of the truck. A new, black helmet was hanging on one of the handlebars.
Ray almost fainted. "Woah," He gasped.
Ray looked up the number on his laptop and borrowed Doctor Morgan's phone, signing for the delivery as the truck pulled away.
Ray called his insurance agency. "By our records, it seems that your Kawasaki Ninja was totaled in a crash a few days ago, we had the new one sent to the hospital, did you receive it, yet?" A female voice said.
"Yes, I just got it. Where's my old bike, though?" The woman explained it was in an impound lot, where he could either pick it up or do nothing, and it would be taken to the junk yard.
Ray finished with the insurance company, and gave Doctor Morgan's phone back so he could return to work. "Be careful, now," He said.
Ray studied the new bike. It was identical to his old one, except this one was two years newer. There were a few different things here and there. Everything was clean and spotless, a "virgin" bike. The odometer was at 11 miles, probably only for testing after it was made. The 500cc chrome engine was ready to run.
Ray took a look at the bike and nodded, now feeling overjoyed. If he'd gained anything out of this, at least he could say this would be worth it.
Ray sat on the soft, leather seat. It still had the smell of something new, which made Ray smile. Ray stuck the key in the ignition, and it roared defiantly. Cautiously, he rode his new bike out of the hospital parking lot, reflecting on how lucky he was.
Then he focused on something he'd been trying not to focus on. Would Firedrake and Sorrel still be back at his house? Suppose someone went there and found them out?
Ray was worried, but tried to be optimistic. And what of Ben? Hopefully he wasn't too worried. Ray frowned as he pulled into the parking lot of the impound lot.
He was led back to his totaled bike. The front wheel was gone, and it was totally massacred. The headlight dangled from the frame, like an eye out of an eye socket.
the back wheel was bent, and a silver pinstripe screeched down the orange frame.
Ray forced open the seat compartment with a crowbar and retrieved his jacket. A box of cigarettes fell to the feet of the employee escorting him.
He looked at it for a moment, and then picked it up.
"Aren't you a bit young?" He said to Ray.
"Please, don't get into this with me. You can throw them away, you can keep them, just don't make a big deal out of this, please," Ray begged.
The man thought for a moment, and handed the cigarettes to Ray. "They give you cancer, you know."
Ray signed some papers authorizing the impound lot to junk the totaled bike, and drove back up the interstate to his house.
His mind was racing on school, on Firedrake, and on his job. Since his phone wouldn't start up fully, he couldn't see what calls and texts he'd missed.
Ray made sure to wear his jacket his time, though. The seams of the stitches rubbed against the inside of his jacket, constantly reminding him of what happened. He tried to remember the crash, but it was all a blur. The only thing he remembered was staring up at a african american man, he yelled "Don't move!" in his face.
Ray pulled onto the country road, again realizing how lucky he was not to have broken anything, and to have a new bike at that. The sun was high in the sky, it was maybe noon. Ray would miss school today, but he had to go tomorrow for the first of his final exams for that year.
Ray pulled into the driveway. It was the moment of truth.
To his horror, the garage was open and empty. He parked next to his garage, and looked around frantically, removing his helmet. His backdoor was open, maybe Sorrel was still here somewhere. He ran into his house. "Sorrel!" He called. His house was empty.
He ran back out to the garage. Ray sat down on a crate, trying to think of where they could possibly be.
He patted across the grass, and saw footprints that could only belong to a dragon. When he rounded the side of his house, he let out a sigh of relief.
Sorrel and Firedrake were laying in the shade of a large oak tree together.
Ray hobbled over to them, cursing the bruises all over his hips and back.
He gently walked over to Firedrake and gently shook his head. "Pst, wake up!"
Firedrake murmured and slowly rose, shaking himself. "Ray?" Firedrake looked astonished. "What happened to you?" Firedrake studied the stitches on his arms, and sniffed the seams keeping his skin together.
"I got into an accident two days ago," Ray sat down on the grass. "I had to go to work that night, I would have told you, but you were sleeping."
"You should have woke me up, you had me worried," Firedrake affectionately nuzzled Ray. "I appreciate your concern, Firedrake. But I'm fine, it'll be a while before my arms heal completely, though."
Firedrake lay down closer to Ray, and revealed a dragon's secret to him.
"So you know about dragon fire, right?" Firedrake said. "Well, what if I told you dragon fire healed, rather than burned flesh?"
"I would say you're crazy, but you're a dragon so it must be true."
Firedrake moved his head closer to Ray. "Let me try and blow fire on you, I've never tried this on a human, but it should heal you."
Ray agreed, and Firedrake blew a small flame onto Ray's arms. Ray felt a cold, but welcoming felling all throughout his body. Instantly, the seams of the stitches undid themselves and fell to the ground. His bruises disappeared, his entire body began to feel like it was asleep.
Firedrake stopped blowing fire on Ray and checked him all around.
Ray stood up, running his hand down both of his arms. His skin was silky smooth, and he didn't feel the constant, dull pain of the bruising. Strange enough, his breathing had improved. But then, Ray remembered what the man at the impound lot said.
"They'll give you cancer, though."
Cigarettes were making him sick. It was because the dragon fire had actually put him in a perfect state of health that he could realize this.
Ray took off his shirt and looked down at where some other stitching and bruises used to be, incredulous.
"That's amazing!" Ray exclaimed. "Firedrake, thank you! Thank you so much!" He wrapped his arms around the dragon.
"Hey wait," Ray said. "If dragon fire heals, couldn't you heal your own wing?"
Firedrake glanced at his splinted wing. "Ha ha, unfortunately it doesn't work like that. It can work on other creatures, but not myself."
"Oh," Ray said, sadly. He should have known, though.
Sorrel let out a snore, Firedrake and Ray sat back in the shade next to her. The heat made Ray drowsy, he laid up against Firedrake and fell asleep.
