09-25-2018, 06:16 PM
(This post was last modified: 03-22-2021, 03:03 AM by Nika Raskov.)
Dr. Costas capped the now-empty syringe and disposed of it in the sharps receptacle. His practiced eyes scrutinized the images populating on the screens. Brain looked fine...spine intact. He glanced at the woman strapped to his table. Still unconscious, bleeding from a cut on the bridge of her nose. Costas moved over and set things right before rubbing a salve on it The screens were now showing details of the lower appendages. The doctor grabbed a tablet and scrolled through results until he found what he was looking for. Facial laceration notwithstanding, every other injury was on the left. A smaller syringe was retrieved, the contents of which were delicately emptied into the fourth and fifth fingers on the rider’s hand. She’d lost the nail and a good bit of skin, a common injury to racers during entrapment, salve was applied to the road rash as well. Ankle, knee, wrist, elbow, the underside of her jaw where the helmet strap had dug in…
Nika blinked to find herself in the medical tent. Costas had just finished setting a broken finger. ‘Ah, there you are.’ A bright light was shown in each eye as he spoke. ‘Do you know where you are?’ The man’s soft hand framed her head, thumb pulling up her eyelids. “Yes.” The she responded thickly. Costas paused and stared at her, hand still on her head. She did not like the continued physical contact. ‘Well, where are you?’ Halos lingered in her vision and she answered between shallow breaths. “On a table.” The man paused before barking a laugh. A bigger syringe was produced and prepped before injection. The woman was starting to feel her body now and it was not pleasant. Dr. Costas talked while he worked. ‘Know the year?’ Nika tried to move her right hand up to rub at the gravel dust in her eyes. Nothing happened. She was restrained. This she also did not like. Wait, had the man just given her another shot? Costas glanced toward the monitors. ‘You haven’t told me the year.’ She stared at him through a haze. “The year of what?”
Costas unstrapped her casually. ‘You should probably just roll over.’ Said just as the woman tensed to sit upright for some dumb reason. That hurt. A lot. ‘You’ve got four dislocated ribs.’ Costas assisted her in rolling over whether she liked it or not. ‘I’ll get them in quickly.’ Pop. She was almost positive her eyes had just crossed. ‘So the shots…’ Pop. “...are going to kick in soon.’ Pop. ‘You’re going to experience a bit of discomfort…’ POP. ‘...in the coming days.’ He shrugged. ‘Move slowly for a while.’ He rolled her to her back. Nika let out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Great scot, she could breathe again. The room was spinning. She closed her eyes and her body relaxed. Costas frowned. ‘Quinn.’ The other man stuck his head in. ‘We’ll take her in after all.’ The younger man glanced at the unconscious rider. “Got it. I’ll inform flight.”
...
There was an older woman bent over her holding a stained-pink sponge. Nika’s expression was questioning. ‘Stay still sweetie, we’re gluing your nose back on.’ Silence hung in the air. Did that make sense? “What?” she managed to croak. The other woman laughed. ‘I’m just kidding. Frank prefers glue over sutures, especially for a cute face like yours.’ The doctor glanced up at the woman standing up against the wall. ‘Now if it were one of the men, sutures all the way as they’re all about the scars.’ She winked at Annessa who had her hand clamped tightly over her own mouth. The racer exhaled. “Oh.” Then drifted off again. The Ducati PR woman tried to keep the anxiety from her voice. ‘Is this normal?’ The elder doctor answered. ‘Fairly common for head injuries, yes.’
…
She woke up in an unfamiliar room. Soft pillows cradled her in an inclined bed. Nika looked around and saw the Ducati PR head reading a tablet in a nearby chair. “Hey,” she cleared her throat. “What happened?” Annessa looked up and smiled patiently. ‘Good morning, sunshine. You were abducted by aliens but they threw you back because you’re so mouthy.’ Nika stared at the woman. “Are you drunk?” Annessa gave a start and perked up in relief. ‘I’m so sorry! You’ve been in and out since yesterday and you’ve asked that same question about a hundred times.’ Nika frowned. “Oh, I’m sorry.” The other woman balked. ‘Oh God, don’t be! We figured out you couldn’t remember anything after the tenth or so time and the boys just started messing with you after that.’ The PR woman made an apologetic face. ‘So I’m the one who is sorry.’ Nika shrugged and immediately regretted it. Annessa jumped. ‘God, don’t do that! Uh, you dislocated your shoulder and your wrist is broken and fingers and…’ The racer looked down at the open honeycomb cast on her arm and wiggled the fingers that were still free. “At least I can still flip people off.” Annessa laughed. ‘Do try and behave.’ Nika relaxed into the pillows. “No promises.” She wrinkled her nose, feeling the strange stiffness of the glue. ‘How do you feel?’ The younger woman made a non-committal sound. “Well, I’m drugged because my body feels like it’s all the way over by the door or possibly in the hall.” A languid grin. “So that’s nice.” Annessa laughed. “What time is it? I take it I won’t make FP2?” PR made an ‘oh honey’ face. ‘You missed free practice 2, that was yesterday.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Qualifying starts in an hour and no, Dr. Costas has left orders to tie you down if necessary.’ Nika made a face. “That’s crap. I’m fine.” She made a circle with the unbound fingers on her left hand. “I can still actuate the clutch lever,” and flipped the covers. Annessa rolled her eyes in exasperation. ‘You’re crazy! The whole lot of you!’ She reached over and pressed a button triumphantly. Nika’s gaze followed the action quizzically and it was a moment before she understood...and felt the effects. “Oh come on, that was uncalled for. I’m telling.” After a moment the rider grinned sloppily. “Can I have a teddy bear?” Annessa sniggered and shook her head. ‘You’re really cute when you’re loopy.’ Nika sank further into the softness. “Don’t...draw on my face.” The other woman sassed her right back. ‘I’m painting your nails pink while you’re out. I’m gonna post it too.’ The racer’s voice was far away as she was drawn back down the tunnel of nothingness. “No...” she half-whined. “Pink will clash with my team shirt.” Annessa smiled. ‘Then we’ll wear black tomorrow, asshole.’
She flipped the covers back where they belonged and fussed with them a moment. Nika was clearly already under and the PR woman risked a kind touch against the soft black stubble on her head. She sighed. The press had been dinging her wallet like mad. What a shitty, stressful day. There was work to be done though and she left the room.
Nika blinked to find herself in the medical tent. Costas had just finished setting a broken finger. ‘Ah, there you are.’ A bright light was shown in each eye as he spoke. ‘Do you know where you are?’ The man’s soft hand framed her head, thumb pulling up her eyelids. “Yes.” The she responded thickly. Costas paused and stared at her, hand still on her head. She did not like the continued physical contact. ‘Well, where are you?’ Halos lingered in her vision and she answered between shallow breaths. “On a table.” The man paused before barking a laugh. A bigger syringe was produced and prepped before injection. The woman was starting to feel her body now and it was not pleasant. Dr. Costas talked while he worked. ‘Know the year?’ Nika tried to move her right hand up to rub at the gravel dust in her eyes. Nothing happened. She was restrained. This she also did not like. Wait, had the man just given her another shot? Costas glanced toward the monitors. ‘You haven’t told me the year.’ She stared at him through a haze. “The year of what?”
Costas unstrapped her casually. ‘You should probably just roll over.’ Said just as the woman tensed to sit upright for some dumb reason. That hurt. A lot. ‘You’ve got four dislocated ribs.’ Costas assisted her in rolling over whether she liked it or not. ‘I’ll get them in quickly.’ Pop. She was almost positive her eyes had just crossed. ‘So the shots…’ Pop. “...are going to kick in soon.’ Pop. ‘You’re going to experience a bit of discomfort…’ POP. ‘...in the coming days.’ He shrugged. ‘Move slowly for a while.’ He rolled her to her back. Nika let out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Great scot, she could breathe again. The room was spinning. She closed her eyes and her body relaxed. Costas frowned. ‘Quinn.’ The other man stuck his head in. ‘We’ll take her in after all.’ The younger man glanced at the unconscious rider. “Got it. I’ll inform flight.”
...
There was an older woman bent over her holding a stained-pink sponge. Nika’s expression was questioning. ‘Stay still sweetie, we’re gluing your nose back on.’ Silence hung in the air. Did that make sense? “What?” she managed to croak. The other woman laughed. ‘I’m just kidding. Frank prefers glue over sutures, especially for a cute face like yours.’ The doctor glanced up at the woman standing up against the wall. ‘Now if it were one of the men, sutures all the way as they’re all about the scars.’ She winked at Annessa who had her hand clamped tightly over her own mouth. The racer exhaled. “Oh.” Then drifted off again. The Ducati PR woman tried to keep the anxiety from her voice. ‘Is this normal?’ The elder doctor answered. ‘Fairly common for head injuries, yes.’
…
She woke up in an unfamiliar room. Soft pillows cradled her in an inclined bed. Nika looked around and saw the Ducati PR head reading a tablet in a nearby chair. “Hey,” she cleared her throat. “What happened?” Annessa looked up and smiled patiently. ‘Good morning, sunshine. You were abducted by aliens but they threw you back because you’re so mouthy.’ Nika stared at the woman. “Are you drunk?” Annessa gave a start and perked up in relief. ‘I’m so sorry! You’ve been in and out since yesterday and you’ve asked that same question about a hundred times.’ Nika frowned. “Oh, I’m sorry.” The other woman balked. ‘Oh God, don’t be! We figured out you couldn’t remember anything after the tenth or so time and the boys just started messing with you after that.’ The PR woman made an apologetic face. ‘So I’m the one who is sorry.’ Nika shrugged and immediately regretted it. Annessa jumped. ‘God, don’t do that! Uh, you dislocated your shoulder and your wrist is broken and fingers and…’ The racer looked down at the open honeycomb cast on her arm and wiggled the fingers that were still free. “At least I can still flip people off.” Annessa laughed. ‘Do try and behave.’ Nika relaxed into the pillows. “No promises.” She wrinkled her nose, feeling the strange stiffness of the glue. ‘How do you feel?’ The younger woman made a non-committal sound. “Well, I’m drugged because my body feels like it’s all the way over by the door or possibly in the hall.” A languid grin. “So that’s nice.” Annessa laughed. “What time is it? I take it I won’t make FP2?” PR made an ‘oh honey’ face. ‘You missed free practice 2, that was yesterday.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Qualifying starts in an hour and no, Dr. Costas has left orders to tie you down if necessary.’ Nika made a face. “That’s crap. I’m fine.” She made a circle with the unbound fingers on her left hand. “I can still actuate the clutch lever,” and flipped the covers. Annessa rolled her eyes in exasperation. ‘You’re crazy! The whole lot of you!’ She reached over and pressed a button triumphantly. Nika’s gaze followed the action quizzically and it was a moment before she understood...and felt the effects. “Oh come on, that was uncalled for. I’m telling.” After a moment the rider grinned sloppily. “Can I have a teddy bear?” Annessa sniggered and shook her head. ‘You’re really cute when you’re loopy.’ Nika sank further into the softness. “Don’t...draw on my face.” The other woman sassed her right back. ‘I’m painting your nails pink while you’re out. I’m gonna post it too.’ The racer’s voice was far away as she was drawn back down the tunnel of nothingness. “No...” she half-whined. “Pink will clash with my team shirt.” Annessa smiled. ‘Then we’ll wear black tomorrow, asshole.’
She flipped the covers back where they belonged and fussed with them a moment. Nika was clearly already under and the PR woman risked a kind touch against the soft black stubble on her head. She sighed. The press had been dinging her wallet like mad. What a shitty, stressful day. There was work to be done though and she left the room.