I was poking around in the e-bowels of my blog and realized Welcome Home part 4 was still a draft post. It's another short one, but it's now here for you all to read it.
The next morning they kept me strapped to a gurney. I suppose I would’ve done the same in their situation. Both of those things I attacked were nowhere to be seen. Neither was the one masquerading as my wife. Duane was there, walking next to the gurney. He kept looking down at me. Each time my eyes met his he looked away. I didn’t know what his game was, but I relished the idea of ending this traitor. I didn’t know where they were sending me, but no cell or building under their control could hold me.
Duane climbed into the ambulance with a nurse. The doors closed and I heard two sharp raps. The ambulance pulled away. It’s funny they call it an ambulance.
What do these things need with an ambulance? They’re not interested in healing, only consumption.
I looked around the ambulance, taking it all in.
There had to be something I could use for my escape.
Duane continued to stare at me. He no longer tried to look away when our eyes met. He simply smiled. I wasn’t sure I liked that smile. There was something almost sinister behind it. I sensed movement at the head of my gurney, then I saw Duane produce a machete.
He’s going to kill me!
It figured it would be a traitor to humanity that would kill me. I shouted out in defiance, but Duane climbed onto my immobile body. I knew my end was near. The nurse tried to shout out, but all I heard was a wet gurgle.
The ambulance veered sharply as Duane moved forward again.
“Damnit!” I heard him mutter as the momentum of the ambulance caused it to roll over. Various instruments and other medical paraphernalia became dangerous projectiles. I didn’t know how fast we were going, but we had already flipped over three or four times. I was so disoriented I lost count. Strangely enough, I was glad I was strapped to a gurney locked into the floor of an ambulance.