The Final Battle

by Anna Wu

  Chapter 32: Sheen

  Sheen opened his eyes, expecting to find himself back on a rocket,. He quickly lifted his head, ignoring the searing pain that accompanied the movement. But as he looked all around him, he only saw the barren landscape of his new home and the wreckage of his rocket. Well, they'll come soon. "It's not like they'd just leave me behind," he nervously laughed.

  He finally got sick of lying down and pushed himself up into a sitting position, albeit painfully. He groaned as every one of his muscles ached and his right leg burned in agony. He looked down at his watch, expecting for a couple of hours to have passed. "It's been twelve hours!" he fretfully shouted, beginning to panic.

  "Did they pass over me and not notice me because I was sleeping?" he wondered aloud while struggling to get to his feet. His right knee buckled under his weight once again, but he was ready for it this time. He quickly shifted his weight to his left foot, and he was able to stop himself from falling.

  "So what if they did pass over me?" he asked while nervously laughing. "They're going to do more than one rescue run. I mean, I'm their best shot! They can't leave me!" he angrily shouted. "They CAN"T LEAVE ME!" he screamed again, louder.

  "Of course not," he calmly answered while swiveling his head around. "Jimmy would never leave anyone behind. He'll be back in no time. Just calm down," he told himself.

  "Are you sure?"

  "Of course. Just wait and see."

  Sheen suddenly shook his head violently, giving himself an unbearable headache. He took a few deep breaths and started to pace around in a circle as best he could. "I'm talking to myself. That's not good. That's a bad sign."

  Sheen knew that he had never been the most sane person to begin with, but the fear of dying alone in this barren wasteland was quickly tearing away the remainder of his sanity. "Calm down," he told himself while taking a few more deep breaths. He limped towards his rocket and collapsed onto it.

  He tried to pull himself up, but couldn't. His right leg was howling in pain, and his arms still felt heavy and useless. He looked down at his exposed chest and saw a river of dried blood that hadn't been there when he had collapsed twelve hours ago. He reached up and touched his nose, which felt swollen. He realized that he must have broken it during his collision. As he gently squeezed it, he felt several pangs of pain and a fresh trickled blood flowed down towards his chest.

  "Alright, calm down," he instructed himself. "Let's just take a minute and sort this out. He took a few deep breaths and leaned against the framework of his rocket. "It's only been twelve hours," he assured himself. "They're probably being really thorough in their search, taking a lot of time on each rock. So they might not even reach my area for a few hours." He finished speaking and nodded. He was making sense. He chuckled a little at how he had overreacted. "They'll be here any minute."

  Sheen smiled as he leaned back and closed his eyes. He tried to stay awake in case he had to signal the rescue party, but he knew that Jimmy had the technology and smarts to find him. Even though he had just slept soundly for twelve hours, he drifted back to sleep again. The chaos of this adventure was finally catching up to him and making him very tired.

  His dreams were riddled with horrors. He watched his rocket slam into the ground. He felt the pain over and over again as he was ejected from the cockpit and thrown across the asteroid. He dreamt of the rescue party flying overhead and looking down upon him, but not seeing him. He dreamt of dying slowly, all alone on a rock.

  He finally awoke in a cold sweat. Keeping his eyes closed, he prayed to Ultralord that he would wake up in a rocket, flying towards the Yolkian planet with the rest of his platoon. But as soon as he opened his eyes, he saw that that was still not the case. In front of him lay the barren emptiness of his new home, which he was all too quickly getting used to seeing.

  Sheen let out a deep sigh and looked down at his watch. Another five hours had passed. That's…over seventeen hours, he told himself while letting his head sink and feeling the familiar stinging in his eyes that occurred when he was about to cry.

  "They're not coming," he whispered. It wouldn't have taken Jimmy more than half an hour to fly back to the asteroid belt. Even without any technological help from Libby and his lab, there was no reason why he couldn't find him in seventeen hours. He knew the rough area where Sheen had crashed. He should have come hours ago.

  As Sheen realized that he wasn't going to be rescued, he felt more sick, nauseous, and hurt than he had since he had crashed. He leaned to his right and threw up. He clutched the ground as his stomach radiated waves of pain, and the world swirled around him once again.

  He was about to pass out, but a voice inside his head screamed at him. What, do you think that Ultralord would just give up?

  Sheen came out of his daze, shocked to hear a voice inside his head. He wasn't thinking those words; they just spoke to him. The combination of blood loss, hunger, pain, fear, and dehydration was nipping away at his sanity.

  I said, would Ultralord just give up? the voice repeated.

  "What's the point?" Sheen moaned in response. "They're not coming back for me, and I can't repair the rocket. I'm going to die here."

  The voice was silent as it realized that Sheen might be right. Alright, maybe you're right. About the first part. Maybe, for whatever reason, Jimmy and the others aren't going to save you. But that doesn't mean that you have to die here.

  "What are you talking about?" Sheen asked in disbelief. "Of course I'm going to die here! I can't fix the rocket! That's the only way out!"

  Are you sure that you can't fix the rocket? You only took one look at it. Look again. He turned around to look at the rocket, but every muscle in his body sent out waves of pain once again.

  Alright, maybe look later. You can't do anything useful until you can move. Let's take a look at your injuries. Every one of them. Then let's see what you can do to fix them.

  Sheen slowly nodded as he felt his head. "I've got a headache and maybe a broken nose. There's nothing that I can do about that."

  He looked down at the innumerous cuts and scrapes over his arms, back, and chest. "They've stopped bleeding, so that's all I can do for those." He stared down at his right leg. He tried to move it, but the pain nearly made him pass out. "It's broken," he angrily thought.

  Alright, so how do you heal a broken leg? You've gone camping, taken health class, all of that crap. Don't you know how to do some kind of first aid? Sheen thought for a moment. Obviously, a doctor would put a cast on his broken leg. But since that wasn't going to happen anytime soon, he thought what else there was to do. "I could make a, what do they call it?" he thought while drumming his fingers against the ground. "A splint?"

  Bingo! the voice in his head happily screamed. Now, how are you going to do that? Sheen looked around the debris field. There wasn't too much to work with. He only had the guns, the remains of the rocket, and the clothes he was wearing.

  "I could use a rifle as a splint, but it might be too big. And I don't like the idea of a gun, even an unloaded one, being strapped to my leg." He took a deep breath and turned around to face the rocket, ignoring the pain all across his body. It was becoming easier to ignore each time he moved. He was quickly getting used to it.

  He stared at the rocket. The hull extra plating was torn away and the hull was gone. Wires were everywhere. Even if he could somehow fix the wires with no tools and no knowledge, the rocket itself was in no shape to fly. He almost gave up as he realized that he was trapped on the asteroid.

  Don't give up, the voice reminded him. One thing at a time. Focus on the splint. Sheen rolled his eyes and stared at the metal framework of the rocket. He touched his hand to one of the steel beams. It was scraped and loose. He set both hands on it and pulled with all his might. It moved a little, halted, and then separated from the rest of the framework. Sheen looked it over and was surprised that it wasn't as heavy as he had thought it would be. It only weighed around five pounds. "This could work."

  Sheen stret
ched his legs out and placed the metal beam against the back of his right leg. It extended from his ankle to just below his ribcage. It was a little too long, but it would have to do. Sheen then looked around for his shirt that he had taken off after he had first woken up. He picked it up and, trying his best not to get sick, brushed off the vomit and blood. He tore it in two, effectively making two small pieces of rope. He tied the bottom of the steel rod to his leg with one piece of shirt and used the other to tie the top of the rod.

  "Well, let's see if I have a future in the medical industry," Sheen muttered while standing up. He smiled as his right knee didn't buckle. He started limping around in a circle, moving nearly twice as fast as before. "Yeah, this could work," he said once again.

  He smiled as he felt a sense of peace come over him. He was still afraid of dying and knew that the odds were against him, but when weren't they? Getting out of here was a long shot, but crazier things had happened. He looked around the debris field and tried to find some other job to do, but found none.

  "Hey, voice inside my head? Any ideas?" He let out a sigh of relief as his separate self didn't answer. Keeping busy and calming down had seemed to restore his sanity. "Alright, back to only one Sheen. That's good."

  He looked around for another minute, but he still couldn't think of any more jobs to do right now. He sat down on the ground and leaned against his rocket. He had still lost a lot of blood, and it was making him tired. He decided to reward his progress with a little nap. "Jimmy," he said before yawning, "I know I'm doing fairly well on my own, but I'd still appreciate it if you came back for me," he muttered before closing his eyes and falling asleep once again.