Music: “It’s Just Garbage” - by MS (© GnomeTone Records)
I groaned.
Well, I tried to. It came out more as a croak. Even that hurt. My throat felt like someone had shoved a sock down it and set the sock on fire.
The air smelled of grease, old cheese, and burning rubber.
Trash.
I was lying in the trash.
Again.
Figures.
My eyes fluttered open just in time to see two figures looming over me. One looked like he’d lost a fight with a rusty rake, and the other had a leg that bent weird when he moved.
“Sorry, Mal,” the rakish-looking one muttered. “That was unkind of me.”
Mal—the other one—kneeled beside me. “It’s I who should apologize. Someone’s been cruel to this boy, for whatever reason. I’ll not add to his suffering.” He looked at the other guy and gave him a wink. “Besides, no one falls this far and lives. Has to be a good sign, right?”
Don’t start, I wanted to say.
Instead, I threw up a mouthful of goo and choked on it.
Mal reached out gently, brushing away something sharp from my face. I flinched. He didn’t pull back.
“Easy now. You’re safe. Just don’t move—looks like you bounced off every sharp object in the pile on the way down.”
I tried to sit up.
Bad idea.
My spine lit up like a Christmas tree. “Ughnn… where…?”
“The furnace bay,” Mal answered grimly. “And we’ve got maybe three minutes before this chamber turns into a big ol’ death oven.”
Wonderful.
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