My eyes were glued to the open sky with strained breathing. More meteors were slowly rumbling past the canopy opening where I was resting against my nature cot. Blood was still oozing from my wounds, but slower. It was probably because I was running out of it. While waiting for death or hopefully another miracle to come, I decided what better use of my time but to make a hypothesis about the meteors.

  I had to be one of those. And if that’s the case, that’s gotta mean the ones in the sky right now are unlucky newcomers to wherever this place is.

  It was a rare moment to be confident about something, but I was sure of my assumption; given that when I first woke up here, I was all but a disintegrated pile of rubble.

  I stared for about five minutes and saw the last meteor fly past. I counted seven. In the distance, crash landed meteors echoed muffled explosions upon crashing.

  So, seven newcomers. Scattered throughout this sweaty crap hole.

  I tried to recall how many meteors I saw when first arriving but the recent memory of escaping the inferno pulled me back. It had to be about fifteen minutes since I outran the forest fire, and the smoke was still billowing through the bushy thicket across the river from me. My heart rate was jacked from the situation and anxiety took over.

  I wonder what’s going to try to kill you next?

  On top of all this, now that I was numb with agony; I noticed how famished I was getting.

  I don’t think I have ever been this hungry before.

  My lips were also crackling from how dry they were while baking in the sun. My eyes looked towards the running stream, and I licked my lips. I was getting thirsty and I bet that water would feel great on my scorched insides.

  But knowing my luck, I’d drink it and promptly shit my guts out after.

  Water and food were the main things on my mind right now. I knew I needed both of those to survive this humid hellscape. And shelter too. Those three things encapsulated Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. I gave myself an imaginary pat on my back for my astonishing ability to withhold stupid information.

  I thought about where I saw the sign of Maslow’s needy triangle. It was in Matt’s (or Coozy as we liked to call him behind his back) little shanty manager’s office. I think he was telling me something about how my plating sucked and I needed to get better at it… I don’t know, I was ignoring the smug string bean. Only nodding in compliance when he asked “Okay?”

  Thinking about him only made my heartbeat faster in frustration. As I was certain this wasn’t doing any goodwill for my wounds, I decided to think of a more pleasant moment.

  I looked to the smokey sky filled with grays and blues and recalled a starry night with trailing smoke from the cigarette in my hands. Donny was going off about some team he watches. I didn’t really like sports, but his enthusiasm made anything interesting. We just finished a horrible shift, so I was happy to just blow off some steam in the back of Mouthfeel while Donny chatted me up.

  “- and trading him is probably the worst idea they can do.”

  “Why? Because he’s the best player or something?” I took another puff of my cigarette and blew it into the air.

  Donny dramatically fanned around him as if I threw the smoke straight at his face. “No…. while not the best, he could be used as a great bargaining chip when they’re in actual need of a trade. They’re number one in their division; they don’t need anything right now. Why rush it”

  I didn’t really know what he was talking about, but I just nodded and tried to segway the conversation, “What are you doing in a kitchen when you sound like you should be a manager for a major league team.”

  Donny punched my arm, “Who else is gonna defend you when Coozy is giving you shit.”

  I didn’t react to the punch but I winced at him mentioning our boss, “I hate him, such a dick.”

  “Eh, Matt isn’t all that bad. There’s a reason he’s running the whole kitchen while you’re doing inventory on silverware.”

  I relented while giving Donny the finger, “He worships the ground you stand on, of course you don’t think he’s bad” I flicked my trailing ash off my cigarette and took a frustrated drag.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Donny seemed to be admiring the visible stars in the sky, “That’s because he knows not to mess with me.” He then turned to me, started poking my chest and I knew he was going to start lecturing me. “Something you need to learn how to do to get people off your back.”

  “It’s whatever, I just hate that nickname he has for me and how he’s always riding me.”

  “Well, he’s going to keep doing it if you don’t stick up for yourself. Plus you’re capable of more in the kitchen than you think.”

  I typically ignored praise that I didn’t believe true, “So what then, you want me to throw fists with him?” I asked sarcastically.

  Donny started cackling and squeezing the skinny fat sinew on my arms. “No no,” Jackass was wiping away tears as he started explaining, “Sometimes you have to get angry, and other times have to remain calm. You know, to show you mean business… Anyways, as I was saying, this stupid tra”—

  Was that the secret?

  I snapped out of reminiscing and closed my eyes. Though my lungs were on the verge of collapsing, I attempted to pace my breathing. I envisioned the absence of gashes on my legs and ignored peeling skin on my arm. The crackling fire, water crashing into rocks, and wind rustling the unburnt leaves were starting to fade away.

  All I wanted to focus on was being relaxed. I soon could feel my heartbeat lower to a more stable level. I worked harder to drop it lower, counting backward in my head to relax. Finally, it happened.

  The wave started at my head and moved towards my feet. It pulsated and then shot back up to where it started. I opened my eyes at the familiar event occurring.

  First, I let out a mighty hack. Phlegm shot out of my mouth all over the ground as I keeled over from the burning coughs. Black paste painted the area between where my hands were holding me up. I gasped in as much air as I could then let out a massive breath of relief. I then looked at my arm and realized fresh skin was already covering the burns. Before I could even sit myself up and set my sights on my legs and belly; they were mostly closed. I was brand new again save for my tattered and burned clothes.

  I was in disbelief. The first time wasn’t some miracle. It was a mechanic set on this planet to heal me from any wound.

  It seems all I need to do is get my heart rate down to a certain level and I’m go-

  Before I could even conclude the rules of the restoration process, I keeled over from a new type of pain in my body. My arms wrapped around my abdomen, and I could only guess what this was from. That continued feeling of hunger but even more painful.

  At five foot ten and 240 pounds, I’d never known real hunger—much less whatever this was. So yeah, something else was at play.

  The compromise has to be energy for healing, there’s always a tradeoff….

  I had to find some food eventually or I could be in a good amount of trouble, worse than getting jammed with pincers the size of my arm. As I recalled the invasive monstrosity, the trees across the river started rustling. Despite my worsening hunger, I was calm enough to focus on the details of the multi legged stalker stepping out from the brush.

  You’ve gotta be kidding me…

  The beetle with the massive pincers and creepy chittering was crawling towards me. Still weak from the intense hunger pains, all I could do was watch him close the distance.

  I swear if this thing can walk on water.

  It couldn’t walk on it but was happy to jump in and wad its way through the stream. Rocks were stopping it from going down the river further, but the beetle had wings that helped it tread in and out to reach its destination, me.

  Increasingly irritated, I mustered the strength to lift myself from the kneeling position and thought of Donny’s reprimanding words.

  “That’s because he knows not to mess with me…. something you need to learn how to do to get people off your back.”

  I ignored my hunger pains and started pacing towards my pursuer.

  It’s not like I have anything to lose.

  As soon as I got within distance, I used every ounce of strength I could and kicked it square in the head catching it by surprise. Pain shot through my foot as the head was like kicking plywood. It seemed to be enough as the beetle flipped over on its back and struggled to roll back over. Without hesitation, I used my other foot and started stomping it on its abdominal area.

  “STUPID ANNOYING BUG…”

  Its carapace was sturdy and hard to break through. But I continued stomping.

  “…TAKE A DAMN HINT…”

  It’s armor finally breaking a little as liquid from its body was squirting out. My foot felt like it was cracking, but I wasn’t done.

  “…AND QUIT FOLLOWING ME…”

  The bug making panicked chittering noises that I barely noticed as I was seething with rage now ignoring the pain coming from my foot.

  “…YOU UGLY BASTARD…”

  The bug stopped making its sounds and the gushing was more prominent. I was breaking through.

  “I AM NOT IN THE MOOD!”

  My foot finally broke through the armor and sunk straight into the beetle’s innards. Insides were wrapped around my leg as I pulled my foot out of the beetle. As the bug let out it’s last sounds, I ignored them while trying to shake off the guts as if I just stepped in dog crap.

  Once the adrenaline wore off, pain was shooting through the gut-drenched foot.

  I limped back to the wet rock, trying to keep weight off. Once I got against the rock, I instinctively closed my eyes and tried to control my heartbeat…

  Bzzt Bzzt Bzzt

  ...only to lose focus at the sound of buzzing nearby. My eyes could only roll so far in the back of my head.

  What now?