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CH 1: Glioblastoma
🕑 Added 2024-11-21 17:30:02 +0000 UTCReid screamed as the mutated red salamander bit into his forearm. Its yellow slitted eyes burned with madness as it wiggled two stumps at him. Shards of bone poked through slowly regenerating limbs, just barely missing Reid with each swipe. It let out a gurgling screech through Reid’s blood and chomped down a second time. Bone snapped as white-hot pain overwhelmed every other sense.
The salamander shook Reid like a chew toy, blood and flesh spattering the surrounding trees before it flung him to the side. Pain overwhelmed his senses again as he landed on his arm, bones now stabbing through the skin where his forearm was bent at a 40 degree angle. A gash on his right leg was also still bleeding, and he had a number of cuts on his abdomen where the salamander’s arm bones had reached him. He breathed shallow and fast, doing his best to stay conscious as he flipped himself over and leaned against a nearby tree.
A few meters away, the salamander turned its attention toward noises in the forest. It wasn’t fair. Reid had overcome so much just to be in this damn forest. All for it to lead to this goddamn monster. He cursed the system and whoever created it. He cursed every god he could think of. He cursed the damn salamander. That monster should’ve been mostly dead, but was still rampaging like it didn’t have a knife stuck in its head, and arms completely missing.
The salamander lowered its head before screeching and tearing off towards a trio of black bears in the distance, tail whipping behind as it kicked up leaves and moss. Seconds later, he heard the first bellows from the bears. He winced as the bellows turned to moans, then silence. Black bears weren’t usually confrontational, which meant the trio was likely a mother trying to protect her cubs.
The salamander was a vicious, terrible thing. Four feet tall and full of rage, it walked on hind legs, and when its arms were intact, had a set of sharp, opaque crystal claws that seemed near indestructible. Its wounds all healed at an accelerated rate, and so far, there seemed to be no way to kill the thing. He’d even sunk a knife into its head, but the blade had completely stopped when it reached the skull. That blow had left Reid open, and allowed the beast to chomp its maw full of hooked teeth down on Reid’s arm.
As he flitted in and out of consciousness, Reid thought about Sara, Susan, and the completely insane events that had led to this moment.
-
One Week Ago
Reid stared at the mirror. A small red spot was growing where he’d nicked himself with his razor. He should’ve put a new head in, but thought he could make this one just last till the weekend. He tilted his head so he could see the patch of his brown hair that was already turning gray. His mother-in-law had told him that he would look more distinguished with it. His wife, Susan, had said his grey hair would be hot. It just made him feel ancient.
He would be turning 32 this year, in just a few days. 32 year olds weren’t supposed to have big patches of grey hair already growing in. His father hadn’t started greying until Reid was in high school – which, actually, might be a connection. Sara was entering her senior year in high school, and even though she was a great daughter, it was still stressful as hell. But still not as bad as what Reid’s parents must have felt. Sara was older now than Reid and Susan had been when they’d had her.
Being teen parents wasn’t easy, and both his parents and in-laws had essentially raised Sara until she was about five years old. He could still remember the shock on their faces, the four of them sitting together on a faded flower-print sofa while Susan and Reid stood. Susan had been holding his hand so tightly that he had pins and needles when their parents made them go into different rooms and reaffirm their decision to keep the baby, and raise it.
In the years that followed, Reid now realized that Sara’s grandparents had tried damn hard to have her as often as possible so Reid and Susan could get to be kids just a bit longer, or just a bit more. They’d demanded the two of them still have club activities and social lives with their peers, and it was one of the greatest gifts they’d ever been given.
When Reid was 21, both his parents had passed away in a car accident. The other driver, Joel, was a local drunk, only a few years older than Reid. He was also the nephew of the first officer on scene, who had ‘forgotten’ to give Joel a sobriety test. The hearing, where Joel was let off with community service, was the first time Reid had let his anger get the better of him.
Reid wasn’t a large man, but he was athletic. Years of baseball and basketball had at least kept him fit. At 5’10”, he was nearly four inches shorter than Joel. But when that smug fuck had smiled and waved at him walking out the courtroom, Reid jumped him before Susan, his in-laws, or the bailiff could stop him. His right hand still hurt on cold days where he’d broken his own bones trying to cave in Joel’s skull.
The outburst had cost Joel three teeth, and most of the vision in his left eye. It had cost Reid 4 months in Jail, and his entire life’s trajectory. He had to drop out of college, and burned through most of the money his parents had left them. Inheriting their house had given them all a place to stay, and a friend had ended up getting Reid hired at a call center before he and Susan had to start worrying about potentially selling the house to make ends meet.
It was a modest, stressful life. Reid hated his job, and the subhuman treatment he received from entitled idiots day after day, but it let him pay the bills while Susan finished nursing school. Sara kept him grounded. No matter how awful things were, he knew he’d come home to her smiling, a tiny carbon copy of her mother. She was perfect, in so many ways.
And so, years had passed. Sara started school. Susan spent a few years as a travel nurse so they could afford to eventually send their daughter to college. The friend that hired Reid moved on from the call center, and Reid was given his old manager position. Reid made PB&J’s and packed them into a well-worn lunchbox, went to work, and did what he could to help support his family. It was a good life.
Sara was about to enter her senior year. She was taller than her mother now, still a carbon-copy of her, aside from having Reid’s green eyes. She’d developed a love for hiking that helped her branch out from books and boardgames – though Reid saw absolutely nothing wrong with someone spending every waking moment turning pages and rolling dice. And that had nothing to do with his own high school years. Not at all.
Sara had taken Susan and Reid out to hike a few trails near home, and then spent months asking them both to let her plan a family hiking trip for Reid’s birthday. Reid’s attempts to dissuade her by setting report-card goals had completely “backfired”, and he’d “reluctantly” agreed to turn his normal birthday-weekend trip into Sara’s hiking adventure. It didn’t matter that he was going to do it anyway, but seeing Sara actually push herself had been rewarding for everyone – and resulted in his daughter having 3 AP courses planned for her senior year.
He winced as a bolt of pain shot through his skull. The headaches were getting worse, now. They’d keep getting worse, he knew. Susan had told him, repeatedly, to see a doctor about his headaches for months. He hadn’t thought much of them. He’d been an idiot, and told his wife the issues were no big deal.
When he did finally make an appointment with his doctor, she’d given him a few recommended tests that he was able to complete on the campus by her office, and still had enough time to grab an iced latte on his way into the office.
The follow up had happened on a day he and Susan were already scheduled to run errands. In the morning, they’d gone shopping for some last-minute hiking trip items. Reid had scoffed at the Christmas decorations already on sale – It was only August, damnit, Christmas could wait its turn. Susan, of course, lit up like a neon sign. Christmas was her favorite holiday, and she always took a special joy in seeing Reid and Sara open their gifts. She’d even pressure them every year to start the gift giving a day or two early. Reid had needed to drag her away from the much-too-early holiday displays just to get to his appointment on time.
They’d gone into the office together, and were sat down on a leather cushioned sofa with metal armrests. The first 10 minutes after the doctor said Glioblastoma were a blur. Words like position, inoperable, and advanced kept repeating, but Reid had all but shut down while Susan pleaded for different answers.
Then, they got to the real center of the shit sandwich. 4-6 months. That had broken Reid out of his stupor. If he was really lucky, he’d live just long enough to die on valentine’s day. Susan had gone silent and stared blankly at the wall. The doctor was staring at papers on her desk. Reid had tried to muster his courage and wrangle his thoughts. He’d known he needed to get Susan to look at him, needed to let her know everything was going to be fine, that this wouldn’t break either of them, and that he was going to stay positive.
He’d grabbed her arm and put on his best playful smile. “Well,” he started in a sing-song voice “I guess we get to open presents early this Christmas.” All was quiet for a moment, then Susan had started sobbing. Reid really was an idiot.
He and Susan had argued, after that. Talked about estate planning and getting things set up with their lawyer. Tried to figure out how Reid’s life insurance actually worked for a terminal diagnosis. Reid didn’t want to tell Sara. She already had enough on her plate. He could wait, until she chose a school. Until she took her first finals of the school year. Until after the hiking trip. Until he couldn’t wait anymore. Anything to spare her just a bit longer before she needed to know.
In their bedroom, Susan was balling up long socks and stuffing them into a duffel bag. She sighed through her nose and looked at him in the mirror. Reid stared at her and tried to save her image in his mind. Her eyes were fractals of dark stained wood, split by a pierced aquiline nose above bow-shaped lips. Her once-blonde hair was getting closer to brown every year, and flowed down past her small cleft chin and shoulders.
Susan put down the socks she was holding and walked over to him. She wrapped her arms around him from behind and put her forehead on his back. Her voice was soft and muffled. “We’ll figure this out. But if you really want Sara to not know, you need to stop looking at me like that. She’ll figure out something’s wrong. And you’re an awful liar.”
Reid pulled Susan around into a hug, then looked at himself in the mirror. His emotions were, in fact, written clearly on his face. He was an idiot. If Sara saw him now, she might refuse to leave until he told her what was wrong. He smiled at the thought of her putting her foot down and threatening to cancel the hiking trip she’d planned.
One week, a loooong car ride, and hours of hiking later, Reid winced as he emerged from the outhouse. A line had formed while he was inside, and those towards the front had heard him heaving up the contents of his stomach. He declined a water bottle from a woman that looked near his age and started down the hill towards the trail.
The nausea was new, and harder to hide than the persistent headaches he’d been dealing with. Physical exertion brought on worse symptoms, and the strain of the day’s hike had seen him stop twice to vomit. The first time, he’d made an excuse and been able to get far enough away from Susan and Sara that they didn’t hear him. This time, he happened to be close to an outhouse, up a small hill off of the main trail. Susan had given him a pointed look and ensured Sara didn’t follow him.
He pushed down a growing feeling of self-pity at his situation as he saw Sara and Susan in the distance. He needed to be strong, he needed to find a way to be there for his daughter, for his wife. If he was headstrong enough, maybe he could even be part of the 5% that made it past the 6 month mark. Resolve hardened deep within him. He’d push himself as far as possible. It wasn’t a question of whether he could do it, he just needed to.
Concern crossed Sara’s face, and Reid panicked for a moment before realizing she was looking behind him. He turned to find the woman that had offered him water and the man that had been in line behind her jogging to catch up to him.
“Ah, sorry,” The man called out with a distinctly Australian accent. “Before you set off, I’ve got a mate with a bicycle a ways up. If you’re sick, we could loan it to ya.” The woman beside him rammed an elbow into his ribs. “Ah, I’m James Benson, and this is Marlene… Benson.” He added, scratching the back of his head with a grin.
“Thanks, I think I can make it but appreciate the offer. Wouldn’t want to leave my family by themselves anyway.” He made a sweeping motion towards Susan and Sara.
Sara smiled wide and started jogging towards him. Then, reality snapped.
