Page 13 of Run Omega Run
"Just a little farther," I whispered, though I wasn't sure if I was talking to her or myself. "The hospital isn't far."
Mom's legs were barely working now, her feet dragging against the broken concrete as I tried to support her. Every few steps, she would stumble, her knees giving out, and I would have to pause to readjust my grip around her waist, fighting to keep us both upright. The emergency bag bounced against my shoulder with each lurching step, a steady rhythm that marked our slow progress through the docile city.
A block ahead, construction barriers created a maze around what had been the intersection of Main and Fifth, forcing us to detour through an alley that I wasn't sure would lead where we needed to go. But the principal route was blocked by equipment, and I couldn't afford to backtrack with Mom growing heavier against my side with each passing minute.
The alley was darker than the street, shadows bleeding around us, thick and consuming. Broken glass crunched under our feet as I guided us around potholes deep enough to twist an ankle. Mom's breathing was becoming more labored, punctuated by coughing fits that sent tremors through her entire frame.
"I can't..." she gasped, her words barely audible. "Too heavy..."
"You're not heavy," I lied, tightening my grip around her waist. "We're almost there."
But we weren't almost there. We were barely halfway, and my muscles were already trembling from the strain while navigating terrain that would have been challenging even without her. My shoulders burned, my back ached, and my legs felt like they might give out at any moment. But I kept going, because if I didn’t, she would die in the street like our broken city had two years ago.
We emerged from the alley onto a street I recognized, one that would take us directly toward the hospital if we could manage the remaining distance. But the route ahead was littered with debris. I could see a gap between two pieces of fallen concrete. It looked wide enough for us to squeeze through, providing a shortcut that might save precious minutes.
"Hold on," I told Mom, steering us toward the gap. "We're going to go between these..." I nodded toward the debris.
The space was narrower than it had looked from a distance, requiring us to turn sideways and inch our way through, past the doorway to a popular restaurant. Mom's breathing became even more strained as we pressed between the cold surfaces, her ribs expanding against my supporting arm with each labored inhale. Halfway through, she started coughing again.
Blood spotted the concrete like rain, as she hacked up every enduring breath that kept her alive. Without warning, her bodyhit the floor like a ton of bricks. I gasped, dropped to the floor, and pulled her into my arms. Streams of blood painted the ground. She was drowning, something fundamental was failing inside her chest, and there was nothing I could do to help her! I tried not to look at the blood as I knelt holding her, rocking back and forth. Pulling her tighter into my arms, I screamed for help.
A few curtains twitched, but nobody came out; no one would help soothe my mom, take away her pain. I would have phoned for help, but it was a luxury we could never afford, and it wouldn’t have helped, as no ambulance could drive these roads anymore.
Tears glazed my eyes, and the whole world turned to a blurry mess. Deep crimson glittered my top, and I looked down, feeling the wet, warm, death before me. She was fighting, gasping, choking, and drowning. I’d pull her up if I knew what to do, but every part of her body was fighting to breathe, no longer able to use her limbs as she lay in a congealed mess in my arms.
“HELP!” I screamed, salty tears caressing my lips.
“PLEASE ANYONE!”
My body shook with panic, fight or flight kicking in. Choking back the cries, I called out one last time. “HELP!!!” I yelled, pleading with whatever Gods were up there to soothe my mom’s soul.
Mom’s body was starting to seize, jerking as she could no longer inhale a blood-free breath. I sobbed, my tears mixing with her wide-eyed, fearful face, lips coated with blood, skin pale and tinged with blue. This was it. This would be how I lost her. And no matter how hard I cried, nor how much I tried to pull her to her feet, she remained a limp mess of a body in my arms.
When her body slowed to a steady jerk, and the coughs were replaced with silence. I knew. I knew there was nothing more I could do for her.
Then the bell to the restaurant door dinged.
Chapter 6
Dante
The bell jingled above my head as I stepped out into the cool morning air, stretching against the restaurant's front door. I shouted back to Stacey to cover the day shift. I needed a break. Last night, I’d been up until four, reworking the menu to include more cost-effective meals for the city's residents.
Then it hit me. The coppery sting of blood coated the air, mixed with my familiar scent of melted marshmallows and the leftover softness of the rain from last night. I frowned, looking around for the source of the scent. Then I heard it, the agonizing wail of a young Omega in distress. A cry unlike any I’d ever heard as her scent flooded the air, coating me in her grief.
