I woke up at 2 pm and no one's there. My side really hurts, probably from sleeping wrong on this old mattress. I stumble to the closet and grab the first thing my hands touch, then into the bathroom and splash my face with icy water to try and wake up. I look into the dirtied mirror over the sink, staring back at the face before me. She used to have duller blue eyes, but now it seems like they've brightened, looking almost an unnatural cerulean and popping against the whites of her eyes. I look closer; despite the brightness of her eyes she looks exhausted, and sickly. Dark circles ringed her eyes from long nights. Her short black hair was dirty, along with the rest of her. Her face pale, this wasn't the strong woman I saw every night. Sometimes I wouldn't get home from races till 5 am, and I felt fine. Daylight drained me. I really hated it now.
I stripped off my dirty clothes and jumped into the shower, it's cold as always. But you learn to deal with things like this, simplify if you will. No water heater, no air conditioning or heater, mattresses on the floor, flickering lights, struggling to go on everyday. At least we had soap, a fireplace, and we never seemed to lack food. I had my gel for my hair, which in my book was necessary, and we had modes of transportation. That's the perk to being a mechanic; I could design a motorcycle out of scrap metal if I had to. That's almost what I did with mine. We had found her all beat up in a junkyard when we ran away from the foster care system. In a normal situation it would be odd to see a Ducati in a junkyard, no matter what year. But these were different times, the bombings had started up again, people were abandoning their possessions left and right to save their own lives.
I picked her up and took her back here to this apartment when we had just discovered it. I had completely redone the way she ran, most people at that time were just experimenting the way you use Opelentium to run things instead of gas. But I was the first with an Opelentium bike, it took everyone else a whole lot longer to figure out how to replace it and even now it still doesn't run the way mine does. Scientists were more concerned with improving daily living, so nowadays they use it for everything, running houses, transportation, even electricity has been replaced in some parts of the country. Not here though, they don't pay attention to this part of Seattle. Everyone is too busy fighting in this idiotic war, while the places that have been bombed are struggling to stay alive and for those that are alive, they live in chaos.
I wash up and get out, noticing there's something on my lower back beside my tattoo that runs on the right side of my torso. At first glance it looks almost like a bruise. Examining it closer, I gasp. My veins are a dark blue, swollen and popping, and the area is bruised black. The veins spiderweb out from the spot on my entire lower back, starting to run down my thigh, and crawl up my back. I gently touch the area, and wince at the stinging pain.
"This isn't a bruise..." I think, trying to quell the panic that is starting to rise in the pit of my stomach.
"Norah! I need to use the bathroom!" Kirra sounded from the door impatiently.
"Just a minute!" I quickly put on a pair of dark green cargo pants and a white tank I had apparently grabbed from the closet, being careful around my side that now throbbed.
"Hurry up!" I opened the door, Kirra cocked her head at me."You look like crap."
"Thanks." I said sarcastically and pushed past her.
"Hey you okay?" she followed after me into the kitchen. I grabbed a spoon that was starting to rust at the handle, and pulled out a jar of peanut butter. "Just peanut butter?" she asked.
"Yup. Good source of protein, so I won't puke." I stuck the spoonful of peanut butter in my mouth.
"You won't puke if you actually eat." Kirra put her hand on her hip, and shook her head in disappointment, just like our foster mother Gina used to do. Except Gina was a short big boned woman, I can still remember the grey wisps of hair that strayed from her bun while she posed like that, every time we did something we weren't supposed to do.
"Not hungry." I said while smacking the peanut butter that stuck to my palate. "But I'm going to stop by Jazz's to pay her for your bike." she relaxed her position now. I put the peanut butter away, and went back to our bedroom to grab the money.
"Where's your brother?" I called to Kirra from the bedroom.
"Working!" I heard the creak of the piano bench as she sat down followed by the song Shattered Humanity.
Jay works down at the pier, he works full time but they've been cutting down his hours slowly. Jay told me they already let go of four others, and he's afraid he might be next. The most recent bombing took place on the mouth to Salmon Bay, which was the original pier. Since then they moved farther down, but they don't have as much fish there as before. Nonetheless he still comes home almost every day smelling like a mix between sweat, salt water, and fish.
While it doesn't pay as well it's still a contribution to the bills, and the supply of fish doesn't hurt either.
With the money in my pocket I grabbed my keys and stopped at the front door.
"I'll be back, lock up and if anything happens Glitch should still be right downstairs."
"Because I need a babysitter." her brows furrowed.
"Because you need someone to protect you." I crossed my arms.
"I can take care of myself you know."
I paused, and pondered her words, I didn't matter how mature she was or how old she was, the world isn't the way it used to be and she didn't know how much danger was really out there. Homeless people breaking into rundown places like this to scrape up anything they can get their hands on weren't uncommon.
"My position stands, don't go anywhere, Glitch is downstairs." I turned and left.
Jazz met up with me as I pulled up, her expression one of relief.
"I'm alive!" I threw my hands up in mock exaggeration. Quickly putting my arms down in pain, I had forgotten about my newly discovered health issue.
"Oh shut up!" she sounded annoyed and reassured at the same time, and hugged me.
"I got the money for Kirra's bike." I handed her the agreed payment of five-hundred dollars.
"Okay let me put this in the back." she ran into the garage and to the back office. I got off my bike, slowly and carefully, and walked over to the couches to sit down.
Kirra's bike should have been at least one thousand to get the whole body done and detailed the way Jazz was doing it, that's plus the cost of the paint. This time I'm thankful we're such great friends; I don't usually take discount from her. But she had insisted that because I had discounted her for her tune up on her bike she would return the favor.
Friday and Eva are working on a couple more motorcycles. I wonder how many people can really afford a good motorcycle nowadays, other than the people who race illegally for the money.
Friday looked up at me, "Good afternoon." I nodded curtly in return. He seems to study me now, giving a sigh and a shake of his head as if he's disappointed.
"What's the matter?" Eva looked to Friday.
"Nothing, Eva." he turned back to his work, mumbling something in French.
Jazz came almost skipping back and sat down on the red couch across from me.
"It'll be done in about a week, it would be done sooner but hey I figured you got discount and I have a list of other clients-" she stopped mid sentence and pursed her eyebrows in concern.
"...What?"
"You look like you got hit by a bus."
"Thanks Jazz." I said and rolled my eyes.
"Sorry, it's just true. You look really pale and like you haven't slept in ages with those raccoon eyes."
"It's a cold." I lied.
"Well you should be in bed then, when's your next race?"
"Not till next week."
"There's plenty of time to get better then!" she stood up, "Go home Norah." she started to shoo me out the door.
"Alright, alright." I sat on my bike and turned it on.
"Drink lots of fluids, and get some rest."
"Doctor Jazz has spoken!" I teased, and coughed.
"Don't hurt yourself!" she laughed.
"See you." I pulled out and drove home.
I trudged inside the apartment and up the stairs, my feet getting heavier with every step. My side still pulsed with stinging pain.
"Maybe I should tell Jay..." I reason, and quickly change my mind. "That will just make him worry more than he has to, he's got a lot on his plate already. A little rest is all I need..." my thoughts blurred and my head feels as though water sloshed in it with every movement.
I opened the door, Kirra was playing cards with Glitch. They both stared at me with concerned faces.
"A cold." I dropped my keys on the counter, walked to the bedroom and practically fell on the bed.
"...I'll just sleep for a little while..."
My head felt magnetized to the pillow, thoughts blurred. Days passed.
Everyday was the same, daylight would come and my body would ache, the coughing only worsened, and the strange infection pulsated in pain. It was only at night that my coughing calmed and the pain on my side eased.
I spent my days sleeping, and my nights up and working on my bike or helping Glitch with whatever project he had. He let me know of Jay's concern, since I barely saw him now that I was working the night shift.
"He keeps telling me how sick you look during the day, he felt your head this morning and you had a fever."
"Do I look like I have a fever Glitch?"
"Well...No."
"Alright then."
He looked down, as if trying to gather his thoughts.
"Why don't you talk Norah?"
"Because I'm not talking now. Right."
"You know what I mean, you don't ever talk to anyone about what's going on with you. Clearly something is wrong and you won't even tell your brother? You grew up with him! They're your family Norah, and family helps each other. You're not alone."
I let out a sigh. Glitch doesn't understand, he'll never understand. He doesn't know what we've gone through to get up to this point.
"I don't want to add anxiety to our already anxious lives."
"But we help each other, we work together! If you would just-"
"That's enough Carter." I said firmly, and annoyed.
He abruptly changed subjects to asking about Kirra's bike.
And that was the last we've talked of it, two nights ago. Tonight's the night of the race. I've been anxious about it all week, wondering what kind of race Mr. Vaughan has prepared. He's had all this time to prepare the track any way he wants, ensuring victory. Last time it was a cop, who knows what kind of trap he has probably set up. Strangely, I'm not worried about that part, I've evaded trouble before. I'm not exactly sure what I'm anxious about honestly. But no time to figure it out, It's already 12 am, and I needed to be at the rendezvous point at 1, which is the abandoned mall. From there I follow Mr. Vaughan to his track of choice.
Energized I quickly change from my pajamas, which consisted of a worn out rise against t-shirt and sweat pants that snagged on the floor, to my grey-blue shirt, blue jeans, black leather jacket and boots. I look at my leather jacket, worn from use every night and a hole starting to form from what looks like moths taking a bite.
Maybe I'll invest in a new one when I get the money..." I think.
I shake my head and walk out, passing by Jay's room. I can hear him toss and turn in bed, and I know it's out of worry. He always tosses and turns when he's anxious, I know it's over me. And me leaving at night doesn't ease him, but I have to do this. He knows I have no choice now, and that it keeps us from starving.
I walk out the door and down to the garage. I had asked Glitch to open the door before he went to bed so it was now open, I hopped on my bike and brought it to life. The air was frigid tonight, and I find myself worrying if I put enough blankets on Kirra.
"She'll be alright." I reason to myself.
I race off to the mall. And just as before, Mr. Vaughan and a group of men await when I arrive.
"Glad to see you've not backed out on your word, Aura." he smiled, "let's get a move on while we can."
He hopped into his car, along with his bodyguard and a few other men. The rest rode on their bikes along with me and we followed them to the track. It took about a half hour to get there. We were now by the main highway, which led straight into the most active part of town. We stopped in a truck stop, or what used to be one, and Mr. Vaughan explained the course.
"The four of your will go down this highway, take the second exit, go through Allentown and the finishing point is the old International Airport. Got it?" not that he would repeat himself even if we didn't.
The four of us lined up, I was glad to see that they didn't bring that crazy guy with them this time.
"Ready!"
I revved my bike.
"Set!"
The gunshot crackled through the air, and we sped forward.