Orion and the Clockwork (The Carmsborough Vigilantes #2)

Chapter 4

When his eyes opened, they were staring up at a cloudy blue sky. A gentle breeze washed over him, rustling his hair. The swaying motion of golden wheat tickled the edges of his vision.

Heaven.

As he gained more of his senses back, things got a lot more dismal. Every bone in his body ached against the tilled farmland, which did little to weaken his impact. There was a strong chance something was broken, but he had no way to tell yet.

He moved his head, searching for the Clockwork, but it hadn't landed on either side of him. Maybe Syndra had hauled the thing off. In which case, good riddance.

In any case, not Heaven.

Getting to his feet proved to be an intense chore, but he pulled it off, straining to use his arms to lift himself up. His vision was a little blurry, and every pump of blood to his brain sent searing pain across his skull.

And, to top it all off, the Clockwork was still there, hovering slightly over the ground.

Definitely not Heaven.

"You're really something," Orion said, trying to take a step forward. "Now you decide to hover? Not when we were running around the city avoiding being shot?"

The Clockwork watches him in silence.

"That's fine. Don't respond. Not like I expected it, anyway."

He blinked hard, hoping to clear up some of the fogginess in his vision. In the distance, he could faintly make out what looked like a building. Probably a farmhouse. If there was help anywhere, it was there.

Without waiting for the metal nuisance, he began his slow trek to the structure. Like his vision, thoughts clouded his mind. Where was he? How long had he been unconscious? Were his dad and sister alright? Was Pamela alright?

Every couple of minutes, he would glance back at the machine to see if he was still being followed, and without fail, the Clockwork would be there, hovering a few inches off the ground with whatever propulsion system it had. At last, after what had to have been half an hour or more, the duo reached the driveway of the farmhouse that had taunted the edge of his peripheral for so long. There weren't any immediate signs that someone was home, but there was only one way to find out. Orion approached the front door and knocked.

Some footsteps shuffled around inside and paused in front of the door. A few moments of silence passed before the person inside said, "Who are you?"

"I, uh... my name is Orion. I need help. And medical attention, I think."

The door swung open to reveal a boy about his age. He had dusty blonde hair that went down to his chin and a deep tan from working the fields. "Orion? Who has a name like that?"

"I do, I suppose. Do you know where I can get help? I think I have a concussion."

"We'll have to wait until Mom and Pop get back from the field to drive to the hospital. Only Dad is allowed to drive."

"How long will that be?"

"It's about one o'clock, so a couple more hours. Here, come in and sit. I'll fetch you a glass of water."

Orion took a step forward, and so did the Clockwork, finally turning off its hover. The boy stepped back with fear and curiosity.

"Oh, that's the Clockwork. It doesn't leave me alone. Or at least I haven't figured out how to make it leave me alone. Is there space for it inside, too?"

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