“Sure he is, and guess what? You don’t know who we are, so good luck trying to find us, superboy!” The kicking commenced again, and at some point Gus lost consciousness.
When he came to, Gus not only felt terrible, his spirits dropped even more when he saw the state of his poor little Fusca. It had dents all over it where the gang took out their aggression on it after they had gotten tired of kicking him. Mirrors were ripped off, as well as the antenna. They even took his crappy cassette player, leaving a gaping maw of wires. Luckily, they hadn’t found the tire iron either, or he might not still be alive.
Getting to his feet, Gus was in more pain than he had ever been in his life. His back was killing him, and he was covered in bruises. He had to lean against his car as a wave of nausea hit him from standing too quickly. Getting inside, Gus put his thumb on the ignition scan, the only modern thing in the old car. It rumbled to life, and Gus slowly made his way home. It hurt to turn his head too much to the left, so he took his time, waiting at more lights than he normally would since he didn’t want to chance going through an intersection at the last minute. He had to crouch awkwardly to see through the only part of the windshield that wasn’t cracked from the damage, so it was slow going.
When he got home, Tempest was there in the kitchen and barely looked up when Gus entered. Gus threw his keys in a bowl and went to the sink to splash some cold water on himself and clean up.
“What happened to you?” Tempest asked, still reading his newspaper.
“I got jumped helping an old lady with her food.”
“By how many people?”
“Well, it was the one guy, but he had a bunch of his cronies watching the whole thing. They all jumped me.”
“Well, it sounds like you learned a valuable lesson, then. Never engage a superior force, especially without the resources to defend your position. I’ll bet you don’t make that mistake again.” He said all this without even making eye contact. Whatever is in that newspaper must be damn interesting, Gus thought angrily.
“Yeah, sure. How dumb of me, trying to help someone…”
“It was stupid. I’m glad you see that. You’re lucky they didn’t hurt you more. Sometimes I think your common sense was burned out when your mother left…”
Left? That was new. That part of the conversation had never occurred to Gus. The memory faded as Gus thought about this new information. He must have been so angry and in pain that his brain didn’t register it. From what Gus had remembered after his illness, he always got the impression that Mom had died in some battle with other supers, not that she left. Did they get a divorce? Gus couldn’t blame her for divorcing Tempest. He was cold and only had time for his job. Did they get a divorce because of him? The more he thought about it, he did get the feeling Tempest blamed him for his mom’s absence. Were his medical bills a strain on their relationship? Was it something else lost in the amnesia that surrounded his illness?
The nanobots finished repairing the area in Gus’ brain and moved on, and the memory winked out, and Gus drowsily sunk back into unconsciousness.
Chapter Four
Island in the Sun
Day 1 11:24 AM
14:01:12 remaining
Gus raised his head wearily and blinked at the bright sun above. He tried in vain to wipe away the sand that clung to the outside of his visor and succeeded only in smearing the grains around a bit and leaving dirty streaks across the glass. He tried to stand but staggered as an unexpected wave tripped him, and he fell face-first into the foamy water. This washed away the sandy grit and Gus could see clearly again.
Coming to his knees, he arched his back and looked at the scene before him. He appeared to be on a crescent-shaped swath of beach, with a short rise from the beach to a ridgeline twenty-five feet above him.
“Where the hell am I?!” Gus gasped in surprise, trying to recall anything between the crash and now. All that came were hazy in and out memories of floating, but he found he could not remember anything besides a bright flash and loud, body-shaking whine as the pod crashed. How long was I out?
Grateful that he wasn’t bobbing alone in the middle of the ocean anymore, Gus began to stem the flow of panic that threatened to overtake him. Looking in the distance, he could see what appeared to be a dense jungle and a large mountain towering above the canopy. The island looked pretty large, and there had to be food here somewhere. He could survive. Hopefully.
A slight ache mingled with a combination of itchiness, and the constant feeling that he needed a good stretch permeated his muscles. Most of all, he felt hungry, hungrier than he could ever remember. Now if he could only get out of this clunky suit. After standing and wading to the shore, he could more fully feel the weight of the spacesuit on his shoulders, but the ache quickly faded as he began moving. The suit pulled on his muscles as if he were lugging a fully-outfitted backpack of some sort, filled with cannonballs.
Gus sighed, imagining the escape pod on the bottom of the ocean. He shuddered, thinking he could be stuck under some wreckage, trapped inside the pod. Most of these types of suits would scrub the carbon dioxide, and most could extract oxygen from the water,
