Lost Will of the Dead [Book One] (On Hold)

VIII : Quentin

The wind roared and defeaned Quentin's ears. He blinked away the tears that stung his eyes. He couldn't see much but he could feel the long drop that dragged on for a few seconds now.

Panic flooded his systems as thoughts swirled in his head. Never had he expected Marius going through with this rough plan. He had never planned anything this far ahead. Death was knocking at his doors and he had no plans of letting him in just yet.

In a whim, the falling twenty-year old boy searched around frantically trying to find something to break their fall. The tears flooding his gray irises were not helping him at all--rather, it was causing him problems.

He spied by his right, speeding at a steady pace, was a rather large pickup truck. Flies in large quantity swarmed the lumps of load behind it--which was as dark as clay. The ominous stench that seemed to smoke out of the load told him that it would not be a pleasant drop.

Marius beside him whistled in high tune--somewhat mocking the approaching vehicle. "A garbage truck. Or a farm truck maybe? Parfait!" He shouted, sarcasm painting his tone.

As much as Quentin also disliked the idea of plunging down into a pool of trash, it couldn't be denied that it was their only remaining option to survive.

However, their speed doubled every second during their freefall. And the oncoming garbage truck was nowhere near as fast as them. As far as he could tell, there was little to no hope that they could ride that truck before splattering themselves onto pavement.

Unless, they could somehow slow down their fall.

Scanning the area around them like a radar, Quentin spotted nothing that might help delay their fall--except the blanket they wrapped themselves with.

They were four stories above the ground now and fast approaching.

His nimble hands worked hastily on unravelling the blanket adorned with jagged pieces of broken shards of glass. He nodded at Marius signalling him to unwound the blanket from his side too.

Quicker than he was, Marius untied the blanket. It caught an updraft and before long the blanket was dancing in waves above their heads.

Quentin's heart leaped to his throat as he glanced beneath and saw that they were three stories above the ground and the clock was ticking.

Panic filled his systems as his nerves steeled through sheer will.

He held both corners on the left side as he directed Marius to hold the right. Together, they made a makeshift parachute that somehow delayed their death.

The garbage truck came by when they were half a story aboveground. They let go of the corners and came diving into the pool of ash black garbage. The trash that surrounded their bodies cushioned their fall and saved their bones from breaking into bits.

The stench of rotten food, animal waste, and poisonous chemicals mixed altogether, wafted up Quentin's nose. He almost gagged but pushed the rising bile back in.

He stole one last glance above and saw the tanned lady gazing down at them with contempt. He glared back at her with rage and a silent promise.

The duo rode the truck full of garbage to safety as it sped away towards the distant sun sinking into the horizon.

* * *

Water sloshed against his bare flesh as Quentin took a step out of the perfumed bathtub. He didn't like the idea of submerging himself onto water filled with intoxicating scent for men. However, the idea of spending his night with the rotten stench of degraded food hugging his skin didn't sit well with him either.