Page 3 of The Road Home
CHAPTER THREE
Orson hugged his arm to his chest, trying to ignore the pain. His whole body ached, but the rest was nothing compared to the throbbing his arm. He was sure it was broken. There was no way the pain could be as bad as it was without a fracture. He couldn't use it for anything.
The gash down the side of his chin was the next issue. It was a nasty cut that kept seeping. He didn't even want to think about what it might look like. There were other cuts on his face and a few small ones on his arms, and bruises covered his body.
He hoped time would heal, but after two days of hiding near the train tracks, trying to keep out of sight of others, he was worse than he had been the morning after the attack. His ass didn't hurt with every step now, but his arm, the cut on his chin, and the constant headache were worse. In a perfect world, he'd go to the hospital, but the last thing he wanted was to explain he'd been raped by two men and left for dead. He hated being weak, hated admitting he couldn't take care of himself.
"You okay, man?" A guy paused near him, his gaze roaming over the injuries.
"Yeah, I will be. You don't have anything to kill the pain, do you?" Orson was trying to think what he had to trade if the guy did.
"No, but the clinic down the street is open. You can get something there." The guy stepped closer. "That cut on your chin could use a few stitches too."
Orson shrugged, then wished he didn't as pain shot through his arm. He clutched it to his chest, taking a deep breath. "I can't afford it."
"You can get on Medicaid. They'll help you figure it all out. The clinic is free." He came closer, sitting down on an old canister that was near him. "I'm Harry."
"Orson." He glanced over at him, not sure if he could trust him. He didn't look aggressive, but he wouldn't be the first person to make nice just to get a chance to take advantage in one way or another. "I just moved here from Arizona."
"Bad timing with the crack down the cops are pulling, trying to get us all out of public view." Harry sighed. "A lot of people have gone missing the last few weeks. There are rumors they are busing them to other cities."
"I heard something about that." Orson touched his chin, finding it hot to the touch and swollen.
"I can go to the clinic with you if you want," Harry offered. "You really don't look good."
Orson closed his eyes, imagining what he must look like. "I'll heal."
"Not if those are infected, and from the look of several of those cuts, they are. Besides, it looks like your arm is messed up too. What does it hurt to go get seen? You don't have to do anything but get advice and let a doctor look at you. It's better than getting a fever or something and ending up passing out here where no one might find you for days." Harry stood again. "Come on. It's not far."
Orson took a deep breath, trying to push back the fear of going with someone. He was better on his own, but he didn't know where the clinic was, and honestly, having someone with him, even if it was someone he didn't trust, was better than being alone. At least he could hope that Harry would offer some protection. "Alright." He stood, giving himself a minute as a wave of dizziness hit him.
"Easy." Harry's hand gripped his upper arm. "You okay?"
"Yeah, just got up too fast." Orson brushed his hand down his cheek, feeling the whiskers longer than he liked them. Maybe he could get a new razor from the clinic. Who knew what they would offer or allow. The place in Arizona wouldn't even give a tissue without good reason. "Thanks for showing me where to go."
"No problem. You look like you've had a rough time." Harry glanced at him. "Jumped?"
"Something like that." Orson hung his head, staring at his worn tennis shoes. He'd have to get a new pair soon or worry about the sole coming off one of them.
"Shit." Harry shook his head. "Sorry, dude. You need to find a group to hang with. There's safety in numbers."
He hated that Harry probably guessed what had happened to him. It wasn't like he was the first guy to be sexually assaulted on the streets. It happened more times than people thought. "I just got to town. I don't know anyone."
"Well, you do now. I'll show you where you can sleep, introduce you to some people who are still around." Harry released his arm and started walking. "You okay?"
Orson nodded as he fell into step. "Yeah, it's mostly my face and arm."
"They'll fix you up. I got hit by a car a few months ago. Wasn't bad, but I had road rash down the side of my arm and face. They took care of me." Harry rubbed his arm as if he was remembering where the injury had been. "If this one doctor is there, he's really cool. Think his name was Cam or something like that. He is so funny. He did magic tricks for the little kids there to keep them calm. He was great."
"My luck I'll get the old guy who hates homeless guys." Orson tried to smile, but was in too much pain.
"Then he shouldn't be at the clinic." Harry grinned. "Be positive. Maybe they'll give you some good drugs."
"I don't use."
Harry lifted a brow. "Really?"
"Nope, never liked the shit. I have a hard enough time surviving without being fucked up all the time. If they give me anything, I'll sell them. Let someone else enjoy them."
