iction Flashes is a series of original stories and written content. This debut story is the first part of mini-series by Aidan Mcnally.
By Aidan Mcnally
BK bumps Kendrick Lamar, cruising down downtown streets. Rocking Jordan Retro 7’s and an Under Armour jumpsuit, he raps along. Until, his ringtone blares through the speakers. He slides the green answer button.
“Yo,” snaps a cracked voice, basketballs bouncing in the background. “It’s Jacob.”
“What’s good, bro?” BK weaves his ride effortlessly changing lanes.
“Coming to ball or you gon’ flake, dandruff?”
BK clicks his tongue, but can’t answer. Glass shatters to the tune of metallic thunder. The airbag explodes and then darkness. In a weightless sea of silky mass, BK suspends. Darkness is defeated by a red light flashing. Then,gasping BK wakes.
His heart thuds as he climbs out of the bent mental remains of his ride. Bleeding, but conscious he stumbles to the equally busted PT Cruiser. The crumpled car’s hazard light blinks, like a broken robot. BK lifts his cellphone and dials 911 on a cracked screen. It rings once.
“911,” answers a deep voice. “What’s your emergency?”
BK replays the wreck like a flicker book. “Car accident.”
“Glendale and Court. Hurry...” The line dies. “Hello?”
BK checks his phone. It’s dead. He rushes to the other Driver. A middle aged body sprawled out unconscious in a bed of glass shards. A crowd of onlookers forms on the graphite ridden sidewalks.
BK rustles through bloodstained pockets and finds a cellphone.“What the hell?” He stares at another dead cellphone screen, then looks up at the crowd forming. “Hey, somebody call an ambulance!”
BK’s head spins around desperately searching. Nobody responds. They all stare at their cellphones with wide eyes. Nervous murmurs rise.
BK grabs his aching head. “Somebody help!”
As if an answer, a face appears on BK the other Driver’s phone. The crowd collectively shrieks. Cellphone in each hand, BK stares at two clusters of tentacles. His eyes rise for help. The crowd shrieks at screens seized by the same cluster of embryonic whiskers.
Antennas slither out of both cellphones and coil around BK’s hands.“Oh shit!”
To be Continued...
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