Safety and peace felt nearly impossible to Quatre as he and Heero Yuy sped down the roadway, riding a motorcycle. He clung onto Heero, looking back a few times at the truck in pursuit. They were OZ soldiers, and they knew they were the pilots of the Gundams on Earth.
Quatre could only guess how fast they were going; ninety was his best guess. He was surprised to see that the truck could keep up at that speed. They traveled for miles trying to escape, but the truck managed to follow. Heero pushed the motorcycle faster. Quatre looked back to see the truck sink back a little further.
Heero turned down a road on the right, cutting the last lane tight, trying to loose the truck.
It followed, running its front tires over the grass. Both sides of the road were surrounded by trees, grass, and forests. Maybe if they could go off the road, into the bush, the OZ truck wouldn't be able to follow.
"Quatre, grab the gun," Heero shouted to him.
He knew what he wanted to do. He didn't like it, but there was no other choice. Quatre put his hand by Heero's side and felt the holster. He grabbed the handle of the gun. Quatre turned his head to see the OZ truck gaining close on them.
He turned his shoulder and extended his arm out, aiming at the truck. This was considered insanity.
"I can't," Quatre said.
"The tires, Quatre," Heero said. "Shoot the tires."
Quatre placed his index finger over the trigger, moved the gun over, and fired. The shot ricocheted off the road, missing the front tire. On a moving object that wasn't his machine, nervous to fight back in this kind of situation, he was a bad shot.
The truck sped up to their back tire. Anymore closer and they'd hit them. Heero swerved the motorcycle off the road, onto the grass. Quatre put the gun in the pocket of his vest and held on tight as Heero steered towards the woods. The motorcycle dipped down a steep hill, hitting rocks and uneven surfaces on the way down. He and Heero were jolted violently. The back wheel hit a sharp rock, making Quatre begin to lose his grip and sent the motorcycle speeding sideways. Heero struggled to keep the balance on the cycle.
Quatre lost his grip of Heero's shirt, and fell off the side of the motorcycle. He toppled down the hill, rolling like a rag doll. He went head over heels, rolled over his shoulders and sides, seeing the last glimpse of Heero Yuy fading down the treacherous hill, towards the trees. He banged his head against the ground and rocks, cutting his face, and bruising his frail body. He finally slammed into the ground, fading into unconsciousness.
It was nearing evening, and little Katie walked through the forest, taking the long way home from her friend's house. She wanted to see if she could catch the group of deer she saw not so long ago. She wanted to see how close she could get close to them before they flashed their beautiful tails and bolted away. The foal that went with the group was her favorite to see.
The deer usually mingled at the base of the hill from the roadway. Oh, she prayed that they'd never go by the road. She feared that her deer would be hit by a vehicle.
She walked along, looking for them, following along the base of the hill, not far from home now. She continued until she saw something lying on the ground, sprawled out length wise. It wasn't anything natural. It was tan, pink, and blue. As she got closer to it, she realized it was a person. She backed away from whoever it was, fear hitting her. Someone was dead, lying on the ground.
She squealed and turned, running off. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, cutting the dirt path that led to her mother's porch.
"Mommy! Mommy!" she squealed in urgency. She ran up to the porch.
The door opened, and out stepped Katie's mother. She was a dark haired woman, much like her daughter, dressed in a knee long dark purple skirt, and a red turtleneck.
"What is it, Katie?" she said, bending down to her six year old daughter. "What's the matter?"
"There's somebody dead on the ground," she whimpered.
"What?"
"I saw somebody lying on the ground, mommy. I think he's dead." Katie said.
Marilyn, her mother crouched down at her level and grasped her shoulders. "Where? Where'd you see this person?"
Katie pointed behind herself. "By the hill, where the deer are."
"By the road?"
"Yeah," Katie whimpered, scared by the encounter.
Marilyn took her hand. "Show me where. Can you show me where, Katie?"
The little girl was hesitant at first, then she led the way to the body. At the first sight of him, Marilyn stopped and held Katie aside. She stood her near a tree, saying, "Say here. Katie, stay here." The little girl reluctantly let go, with fear in her eyes. Marilyn walked over to the fallen body. He slowed her steps, creeping up the body like she was a predator stalking its prey. The body of the person had his back turned to her, so she slowly walked around. When she did, she saw whoever this was; he was a young boy, in his teens. He had fair white skin, light blonde hair and was dressed nicely. His face was cut and his clothes were dirtied.
She bent down to him and tapped his shoulder. There was no movement in return, but he wasn't cold and stiff either. It suggested that this boy was alive. She put her hand by his neck, looking for a pulse. There was one. He was alive.
"Hey, can you hear me?" she said to the unconscious boy. "Hello. Wake up."
There was nothing.
As she looked around to try and figure out what had happened, she guessed for the present moment that he had fallen from the top of the hill. She hoped that he wasn't hit by a car. She lifted his front up to try to wake him. His head fell backwards.
She couldn't leave him out like this in his condition. She picked him up in her arms and turned to Katie. He wasn't too heavy. He was a light boy.
"Let's go home, Katie," she said, walking towards her daughter.
Katie looked up at her in fear of the boy in her arms. "But mommy, he's dead."
"He's not dead, honey." she said. "He's just hurt."
She and Katie, along with the unconscious boy walked back to their home. Katie opened the door, and trotted inside the warm living room. The fireplace was on, setting a warm glow in the center wall.
"Katie," Marilyn said as she laid the boy on the couch. "Open up the closet for me."
The little girl did what she was told, and ran to the closet at the far side of the living room. Marilyn followed her to the closet and pulled out a green cot that she received when she once volunteered for the war. She carried it to the reading room, which was barely used at all anymore. It now began to be used as a storage room. She turned the light on and carried the cot to the side of the room. She placed it down and unfolded it.
"Honey, bring me some blankets and a pillow!" she called to her daughter.
Soon, rapid footsteps came around to her, and in came running in was her daughter, with her arms full of two blankets and a pillow. She dropped them down, and held a remaining half of a blanket in her hands.
Marilyn picked up the pillow and placed it at the end of the cot. She fluffed it and readied the blankets. She then stood and left the room to collect the boy. She picked him up, carried him to the room and gently rested him on the waiting retired cot. She covered him in the blankets.
Now, her skills as a nurse were needed. She examined his wounds. She felt his bones for breaks, which he was lucky, there were none. His face needed to be cleaned, and he had many bruises. Her worst fear for him was a concussion. He had a fine knot on his head and several smaller ones.
She stood up to get the supplies she needed to treat the boy, and while she went to the door to leave, she heard barking and a clicking of claws. The family dog could smell the boy. The dog struggled to forced past her, sniffing the air. "Harper, no!" She grabbed the dog by the collar quickly and yanked him out of the room before he could get out of her reach.
She pulled the dog into the hallway with one hand as she said to Katie, "Take the dog outside." then shut the door behind herself.
Fighting past the dreams of space and his companions, Quatre Raberba Winner came to in a dazed state from his unconsciousness from the accident. His head hurt too much to open his eyes, so he kept them closed, struggling to listen in for the voices of his fellow Gundam pilots. All he heard was silence and a bit of rustling around.
Duo? No, it couldn't be. He couldn't be around. It was only him and Heero. Unless he met up with Heero, and was able to aid them. If he could open his eyes, then he could find out.
"Heero?" he murmured, listening for an answer. "Heero?"
He flickered his blue eyes open. All he saw was darkness in a surrounding he never saw before. He stared for a few moments, then slowly closed his eyes again. He shivered lightly in fear of where he was. The shaking in his chest hurt and his head ached. He waited it out until it stopped.
He drifted off into half consciousness, his mind spinning, making him think this place was in space. He felt safer in his thoughtful surrounding. He was born in space, and he knew how it felt and how to survive there. He made many trips in space with his beloved Gundam, Sandrock. Space was his home. On his time on Earth, he needed much time to get used to it. His friends in Arabia made him feel at home in his struggle for a secure life.
But security didn't exist with the war. It was why he left his colony, so he and his family may be secure. He forced himself into the war.
Quatre's eyes found the blackness behind his lids, and soon, his dreams of space returned. It was hours before he woke again.
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