Infinite - Volume 1

Chapter 2: That Wasn't Nothing

Evan glanced around, anxiety pressing on his chest. "Sir, do you think I could-"

"Don't think so, pal," the man cut in, narrowing his eyes.

"Please, I just-"

"What makes you so special?" he snapped, twisting around. The stench of booze and cigars hit Evan full force.
"Ya don't even look hurt. What're doing here?"

The man jabbed a finger into Evan's chest.

Evan's temper snapped. He slapped the finger away. "It's not me! My brother and nephew are in my truck-head injuries! I'm trying to get them help!"

"Yeah, well, they ain't the only ones hurtin'," the old man retorted.

Evan snapped. "Hey, you old fart! My brother's unconscious and bleeding out, and my ten-year-old nephew's right there with him! I think you've had enough beer to numb your arm long enough to let a kid with a head injury go ahead of you, you crusty old piece of shit!"

The man turned slowly, his expression unreadable-almost blank. Evan tensed, suddenly unsure if this was about to turn into a fight.

Then the old man burst into raspy laughter, his whole body shaking.
"BAHAHAHA! Well, shit, son! I think you're right!" He broke into a wet, hacking smoker's cough, wiped his mouth, and pulled out a battered flask. One swig later, he added, "Hell, I probably don't got much time left anyway. Let that little boy go ahead of this old turd."

He stepped aside with a crooked grin.
"Shit, you look like you need this more than me. And for the record-wasn't beer. Whiskey." He held out the flask.

Evan blinked. "N-no, thank you," he said, waving it off-though, if he was honest, the offer almost sounded nice.

Something shifted in Evan. For once, standing his ground hadn't backfired-it had worked. The old man's laughter, the way people actually listened-it hit him harder than expected. Maybe his voice did matter. Maybe retreating wasn't the only way to survive chaos.

He turned back toward the waiting area with a flicker of resolve, ready for whatever came next.

A few nearby had seen the whole thing. A younger man with a sling gave Evan a nod and stepped aside. Two women-one with a bandaged leg, the other with gauze over one eye-traded glances, a mix of wariness and quiet empathy, and let him through. Others followed suit, parting to make room without protest.

For the first time all night, the world didn't feel like it was pushing him back.

Despite the small victories, reality set in fast. Even after cutting ahead of eight people, there were still over twenty more in front of him.

His pulse quickened as he scanned the room, eyes landing on a short woman with vibrant red hair and an overwhelming wave of cherry blossom perfume. She rocked back and forth, visibly agitated.

Evan stepped toward her, ready to make his case-until something over her shoulder stopped him cold.

Wait... was that a baby?

He leaned in slightly. Wrapped tightly in a blanket, a tiny infant rested against her chest. Gauze circled the baby's head, faint crimson patches seeping through the white.

"Oh God," he breathed, the weight hitting him all at once.

The woman turned, her tear-filled blue eyes wide with panic. Lipstick smeared, eyeliner streaking down her cheeks.

"M-my baby," she choked out, trembling. "I was walking down the steps when it hit... I tried to hold on, but I fell-on top of him. I... I didn't mean to..." Her voice cracked, dissolving into sobs.