Suspended In-between
508 Words
I come back to the sound of my own name.
"Lee. Lee. Hey. Can you hear me? Lee, say something, you're scaring the hell out of me."
Marcus. Still on the call. His voice is coming from somewhere near my left ear, tinny and distorted, and I realize the phone must have hit the dash and landed face-up. Still connected. Still broadcasting whatever was happening inside this crumpled car.
I try to answer. What comes out is a sound I have never made before.
"Okay. Okay, I hear you. Don't move. I'm calling 911 right now, stay on the line, Lee, stay with me."
I can't move anyway. That's the thing. I can feel my fingers, which seems important, but everything else has gone to this thick, distant static, like my body has filed a complaint and is waiting for management to respond. The passenger side of the car is simply gone. Where the door used to be there is crumpled metal and broken glass and the bumper of a truck that has no business being that close to my face.
"Lee." Marcus again, both phones probably burning his ears now. "Ambulance is coming. Six minutes. Talk to me."
"The mechanic," I say, because apparently that is what my brain produces under duress.
"What?"
"The counter-resonance mechanic." My voice sounds like it belongs to someone else. Calm. Far away. "You were right. Don't add it."
A pause so long I think the call dropped.
"Are you serious right now."
"Ship it clean." I can see the notification light on my phone blinking from somewhere on the floor. Red and green. Red and green. "Ship it like it is. You were right, Marcus. It's good enough."
"Lee, you just got hit by a truck, I don't care about the mechanic."
"I care." Something is very wrong with my left side. I understand that in a detached, administrative way. "I need you to know I'm not moving the line anymore. Okay? Ship it."
"Stop. Stop talking. Five minutes, just breathe."
"Call my mom."
Silence.
"After launch," I add. "She worries less if there's good news first."
"Lee. Listen to me." His voice cracks, just barely, just enough that I understand this is serious in a way I haven't fully let myself process. "You are going to call your own mom. You're going to be fine. Just stay awake."
I try. I watch the notification light blink. Someone is shouting outside, probably the truck driver, probably a witness, probably both. There are footsteps on broken glass. A stranger's voice saying sir, sir, don't move, help is coming.
"Marcus."
"I'm here."
"The game is good," I say. "Tell everyone. The game is actually good."
"I know it is."
"I just wanted to build something that mattered."
"You did." His voice is rough and certain. "Lee. You did. Now shut up and breathe."
I breathe.
The notification light blinks.
Red. Green. Red. Green.
Somewhere far away, sirens.
Then the light gets very bright, and very white, and then there is nothing at all.
- Writer
