Accidents Made Right 1: Pistanthrophobia

“I love you Rowan… I’m sorry for… hurting you, like I did.”

Steve and I started to lean closer to each other, until the entire house shook. Then, I opened my eyes.

I was in the back of a cargo truck, on one long bench-like seat, with Issac and Rose sitting on another across from me.

Rose was reading a book about psychological theories, while Issac was smoking a cigarette.

At one point, Rose started coughing, so I leaned over and asked Issac “Can you put the cigarette away? We’re… kind of in too confined a space for that.”

“Relax. If any of you get hurt or addicted, Steve or Dylan will just be able to cure you.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but Issac spoke again.

“And no, they can’t hurt me. Aside from my cybernetic enhanced brain and eyes… I don’t really have any organs. Especially not lungs.”

“Then… how do you breath?”

Issac looked at Rose, like what I said just confirmed something, and then Issac said “Hmm, good point.”

Issac grabbed his throat with both hands and fell forward, thrashing around like he was being choked.

I stood up and reached my hands forward to help him, but Issac’s metal tentacles pushed him back onto the seat, revealing a smug smile.

“Relax. I’m not actually choking. I don’t need oxygen anymore. This body gives me what I need,” he said, clanging his chest.

Then, the room became awkwardly silent. I leaned back, resting my hands on the opposite side of my elbows, but I just felt more awkward.

I then tried resting my hands on the long bench on opposite sides of my body, but that felt more awkward. But, when I returned to the first position, it felt even worse than before.

Eventually, after looking like a fool, I rested my hands on my legs, and it actually felt comfortable. But that feeling was immediately washed away.

“So…” Rose spoke up.

“You happy… Rowan?”

I nearly slammed my head back, sweating profusely.

“I-I-I… w-w-what? I-I’m L-Luke. Y-You k-know t-t-this.”

“Look,” Rose sighed, “You can cut the act. Issac and Dylan explained everything… and I don’t judge you for it. Honestly. They did tell me you have a way to get Luke back…”

I winced.

“Right?” Rose continued, leaning closer.

“Y-Yeah. I-I just… I p-put a specific t-time limit on w-when he wakes up…”

“Let me guess,” Rose asked, leaning back with a slouch, “One year?”

I said nothing.

“Two years?”

…

“5?”

…

“Fucking Ten?!”

I nodded shamefully.

Rose stood up, ready to scream, but quickly looked back at the almost soundproof wall separating us from the driver and passenger, Dylan and Isabelle. Then, she took a slow, deep breath, and sat down.

“Why so long?”

“I-I… my f-father wanted me to s-spy on S-Steve… I assumed I-It would be for a w-while…”

Immediately, I jerked forward, adding anxiously “I-I made it s-so he wouldn’t a-age… and promised m-myself to make sure a-all of you were s-safe until he w-woke up again.”

Rose turned to the right, staring at the floor.

“I-I’m…”

Rose sighed, turning back to face me again.

“Look. What you did was… yes, it was bad. But at least you see that. You can improve…”

…

“But first, you gotta believe in yourself.”

…

“I-If I s-share this with your friend… she’ll r-rip me apart. Not that I don’t deserve it, but… even if I wanted to I-improve, it’s not l-like I could.”

…

“W-Wait. How d-did they even—?”

Rose raised her hand up, stopping me. Then, Issac stomping a cigarette, Rose explained “You won’t get it out of them. Steve’s tried for years, and couldn’t, and he’s the closest person to them.”

Instantly, as if to contradict Rose, Issac elaborated, “When Dylan was searching many of your father’s bases for a way to save me, just when he was about to be killed, he came across a wormhole containing, basically, infinite knowledge, or at least in terms of this universe, along with anything this universe’s Grim Reaper knows about his or her own realm.”

Rose stared at Issac, her jaw dropped in shock.

“W-wait… how d-do you not know whether this u-universe’s Grim Reaper i-is a man or w-woman? Also, what?! I-Infinite knowledge?! Why did you refuse to tell Steve this?!”

“Hmm…” Issac hummed hummingly, pretending to stroke a non-existent beard on his chin, “Interesting that the gender question was your first.”

“I-I… w-what?”

“You’re avoiding the question,” Rose said.

“Relax. I was gonna answer it. Just joking around… okay, first, we do know our Grim Reaper’s gender, I just… I can’t say who it is.”

“Second… if Steve knows about the wormhole… he’ll start asking lots of questions. And… there are some he can’t know the answer to yet.”

“O-Oh…”

Several minutes later, Dylan yelled from the driver’s seat “We’re approaching the factory! Everybody stay quiet.”

As the truck bounced along the road, I heard nearby engines growing louder and quieter. I think that meant other trucks were passing by.

After a bit, the truck came to a slow halt, and then big, heavy footsteps. After a long, awkward silence, the truck started up again.

“We’re through. Our spy let us in,” Dylan informed us.

About a minute later, the wheels of our truck stopped, before the engine followed, and then the back door of the truck was lifted open by Isabelle.

She helped me down, and then Issac and Rose stepped down. Issac walked around the left side of the truck to Dylan, and whispered something into his ear.

Dylan nodded, then said just loud enough for me to hear the words “It’s time.”

Then, loud enough to slightly hurt my ears, Dylan yelled out “STEVE’S IN TROUBLE! We gotta go help him!”

We all followed the two of them to the front of the truck, up a small set of stairs, and through a pair of regular wooden double doors, into a long metal hallway with red lights shooting across the top of the walls.

He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay… he’s Steve Berkan. Nothing can hurt him… right, Pemo?

…

Pemo said nothing.

As we went down the long winding hallways, we came across three groups of robots. The first, Issac used his metal tentacles to tear through. For the second, Isabelle shot a single single sniper rifle bullet which bounced through and between them all.

For the last, Rose dropped her engineer’s toolbox, causing chains of blue electricity to shoot towards the robots.

After busting through another pair of doors, we were in the factory. And then nothing seemed to matter except for what was in front of me.

Alexander, standing above a bloodied, broken Steve. His limbs were twisted opposite of how they should’ve been, blood was pouring out of his gut, nose, and neck, and his eyes… they showed nothing but pain.

At first, I couldn’t feel anything. Then, a fire. A fire brighter and stronger than any I’d ever had.

Loss brings out the worst of us…