Legend of Kataria (Draft Version)

Chapter 16

The sharp throbs of pain woke Greeny from his slumber.

He groaned, reaching weakly for his chest, and opened his eyes slowly to find the gray haze of daybreak peeking in through the windows of the car. From there, he was greeted by a grim-faced Blue and two still-sleeping teens in the backseat. He closed his eyes again, attempting to go back to sleep.

Sleep refused to come.

"Where are we?" he finally asked, giving up and turning slowly to face the team captain as Blue lightly twisted the wheel around and pulled the car into a small rest stop. "Why are we here?"

"We've been driving all night," Blue said quietly as he parked, raising his arms in a stretch. "We're about ten hours away from Catrial and pretty much all other signs of life. We need a break and Red needs medical attention. Now, he's the one who knows all this stuff, but I think we can at least help with the pain. I'm going to get more gas. Do you think you can make it to the store?" His eyes drifted to a small market with whitewashed walls, nearly invisible against the morning sun.

"Yeah," Greeny replied. "I think so. I already feel a little better." At the same time, the rest of him was screaming, "Don't do it, you idiot!"

"Great." Blue then proceeded to give him a list of things to purchase; gauze, homemade icepacks, duct tape and handed him the money to do so. And then Greeny was out of the car, grimacing, trying to wrap his head around where the teen could have kept so much cash.

The store was only a few moments walk from the car, but for Greeny, it felt more like a lifetime. Even as he reached the door and pulled it open, he wanted to break down and cry. Blood caked his clothes, and after a good straight fifteen hours in the car, he was sure he must have been a disheveled mess.

The bells over the door jingled as he stepped through the threshold, blinking and taking in the layout of the building in two turns of his head. A single level. Two doors. Front and back. Limited escape options. He hoped he wouldn't have to use them.

The girl behind the counter hardly gave him a second glance as he moved off to begin his search. He was grateful for her lack of attention and only smirked as he picked the first few items from his mental list, and moved on to the first-aid row to find icepacks.

They were fresh out, so he paused to think, trying to recall if there was any other way to make ice-bags.

And there was. He recalled Sky making one for him once when they were kids, and he thought he remembered the materials required.

So, hurrying back the way he'd come, he picked out a medium bottle of rubbing alcohol, a box of plastic zipper bags, and a bottle of water. He grabbed a bottle of acetaminophen for good measure and headed up to pay. As he went, he noticed the display of snacks and grabbed a bag of pretzels. As he reached the counter, he tried to turn his body so the blood wouldn't be as noticeable, but it didn't take him long to realize that the cashier was much more interested in what was on her phone than the wounded teen standing before her.

"Eight dollars," she said flatly, after taking up the items and scanning them.

Greeny handed her the money and something behind her caught his eye. It was a television. And it was showing scenes from the explosion at the mansion. He didn't know how there could already be a full report, but he didn't care. His eyes were glued on the subtitles flashing across the lower portion of the screen.

"...and reports have just come in that the incident that destroyed one of Griffion's most prominent homes was indeed the same as the disaster that befell Southpoint only days ago. Studies show that unfinished pipelines ruptured, causing the explosions."