Once again, there are some violent scenes in this part that warrant an R rating, so consider yourself warned. Thoughts are also once again italicized.
I told you this story was about to take a bizarre and surreal turn. If you get confused, don't worry--this story has a long way to go!
I got all excited thinking about where it was going to go--even I wasn't sure until recently!
Now that I know, I'm all giddy! I think you'll like what is to come as well--not all is as it seems!
Shattered Survivor Part Three
Rated: R
“Kay…Kay…”
“MacGyver? MacGyver, can you hear me?”
The familiar, unwelcome pain in his ankle returned when he heard Pete’s concerned voice echo in his mind. Kay’s adobe home, her understanding, comforting embrace, and her clean, vanilla scent evaporated into nothingness as he opened his eyes, revealing that he was once again in the stark, sterile environment of the hospital.
“Pete?” He asked, his voice weak and hoarse. “What happened?”
“You were bit by a rattlesnake,” Pete said, squeezing his hand. Angry tears formed in his eyes even though he tried to smile encouragingly. “Is this what you call a vacation? Getting lost in the middle of the desert? You were fortunate that some hikers found you before it was too late.”
MacGyver frowned and squirmed in bed, his eyes scanning the room. “No,” he said. “No, this isn’t what happened at all. Somehow, this isn’t right. Where’s Kay?”
“Kay? Who’s Kay?”
"I rented a horse from her and rode it into the desert. It was spooked by a rattlesnake, threw me, and left me. The snake bit me, all right, but it was Kay who organized the rescue party to save me. Where is she? Why am I in the hospital again? Has there been some complication with the bite?”
“Take it easy, MacGyver,” Pete said, trying to hold him still as he increased his frantic, writhing movements. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never met this Kay person before.”
“You mean, she didn’t come with you? She’s not outside waiting for me?”
“No. I told you, you were completely alone when they found you.”
MacGyver’s eyes widened in alarm and darted wildly around the room. “That can’t be,” he said. “She was with me, I know it. She has to be somewhere.”
Pete looked at him in sympathy. “You were out there for a long time, exposed to the snake venom and extreme temperatures. It’s possible you could have been hallucinating,” he said.
“No, you don’t understand,” MacGyver said. “She’s real. We had a detailed conversation. She showed me her house. I couldn’t have been dreaming or hallucinating. She’s real, Pete. She exists.” He struggled to sit up, fighting waves of dizziness. “I have to get out of here to prove…”
“You’re not going anywhere just yet,” Pete said, pushing him back down onto the bed. “Listen, I believe you, but we’ll just have to wait a few days before you can contact her.”
“I…I just don’t understand what happened,” MacGyver said, searching the hospital room as if lost. “One minute, I was with her, the next…”
“Well, your mind could have been playing tricks on you while you were out in the desert,” Pete said. He held up his hand to stop MacGyver’s protestations, noticing he was about to speak as he vehemently shook his head. “I’m not talking about hallucinations this time. Maybe you were with this…Kay for awhile before you ventured out into the desert and were bitten by the snake. Your sense of time could have been distorted.”
MacGyver sighed and looked around the plain, white room again. “I suppose that is possible,” he said. “But where is she now?”
Pete shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “She might not know what happened to you.”
“How could she not know? It was her horse. Surely it returned to her and when she saw it was missing its rider…”
“We don’t know anything for sure at this point, Mac. That horse could be wandering the desert and might not have returned to its owner.”
“But…she would still be worried…”
“We’ll figure this out, I promise. For now, I want you to rest.”
“It’s just…so odd…”
“I know.”
“I was just with her, Pete. She was in my arms.”
“Don’t worry,” Pete said, stroking his damp forehead. “I’m sure it will make sense soon. You were just disoriented from the bite and the sun, that’s all. Your memories and thoughts were jumbled. They’ll be in order again soon, I’m sure.”
“I hope so…” MacGyver’s eyelids grew heavy and he blinked slowly. “Could…this be a dream…?” He muttered, drifting back to sleep.
***
A few days later…
MacGyver looked around the barren, desolate desert wasteland in stunned disbelief. A harsh, uninviting, dry, and hot wind howled through the empty land, whipping up sand particles that bit into his skin, stinging it. He held up his arms to shield his eyes as a dust devil swirled around him.
“Are you sure this is where she lives?” Pete asked, standing a few feet away from him, squinting as he searched the vast, open, and empty horizon.
“I’m sure,” MacGyver said, looking around after the sand settled and the wind ceased. “But…there’s nothing here…that’s impossible…” he kicked at the sand as if hoping to unearth a buried artifact that would provide evidence that Kay once lived there.
“What town did you say she lived near?”
“Red Dunes. It’s five miles from here, or at least it should be. It’s as if it disappeared, too. We drove right by where it should be, and there was nothing…not even the ruins of a ghost town.”
“MacGyver, we’ve been through every map we could find,” Pete said, watching his friend with growing concern. “Each of them says that Red Dunes doesn’t exist.”
“It’s not exactly the kind of town that would appear on every published map,” MacGyver said. “That’s why I chose it—because it was so remote. I would have thought, though, that it would be on at least one of the maps we looked at. That it isn’t makes no sense.”
“You heard that local guide we ran into on the way out here. He’s lived here for over 30 years, and he never heard of the town, either.”
“That doesn’t necessarily mean anything. I’m sure the town wasn’t even known by some of the locals. Look, I didn’t imagine any of this, Pete. I know it’s real. I know Kay is real. Maybe we’re just in the wrong place. It could be right over the next arroyo for all we know.”
“When did you say you were here last?”
“Six years ago…before I went on assignment and was captured and tortured by El Diablo. That’s how I met Kay. She has to be real, so do the people of the town. I couldn’t have conjured such vivid memories of them out of nowhere…could I? Pete?” He asked. Standing in the middle of the desert, surrounded by nothing but raw wilderness for miles, he began to wonder again what the reality was and what the dream was, desperately struggling to discover the line that separated them.
Pete sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know what to believe, Mac,” he said. “I want to believe you, but towns don’t vanish off the map like that. Something else must be going on here to explain this. I just don’t know what it could be.”
MacGyver snorted bitterly. “Maybe I’m losing my mind,” he said.
“I never said that.”
“But you think it.”
“You know that’s not true.” Pete approached him and gently placed his hand on his shoulder. “You’ve been through a lot these past few years, I know, but that doesn’t mean I think you’re mentally unstable. You’ve been doing the best you can, given the circumstances. Now, you tried to forget about the past for awhile by coming up here to relax, and something has happened. Something has gone terribly wrong. The memories you have—of Kay, of the town—they have to be legitimate. Something has happened, something we don’t understand and can’t explain yet, but I’m willing to help you find the answers, Mac.”
For the first time in awhile, MacGyver looked at Pete, his eyes dark with emotion. “You really have that much faith in me?” He asked.
Pete smiled. “You should know that by now,” he said.
MacGyver sighed deeply and looked around the desert again. “I don’t even know where to begin,” he said. “How do you go looking for a missing town? What could have happened to them all? What happened to Kay?”
Pete began laughing.
“What, you think this is a joke, Pete?” MacGyver asked, growing angry. “Something strange is going on here, causing me to seriously question my sanity, and all you can do is laugh at me? Some friend.”
When he looked back up, he saw that it wasn’t Pete who was laughing at all. He had morphed into El Diablo, his image shimmering like a mirage.
“What…what’s going on here?” MacGyver asked, staring at him. “You…can’t be real…you can’t be here, now…in this place…you’re dead.”
El Diablo continued laughing, and more apparitions materialized in the desert, those of his men holding an innocent boy.
“No, you are mistaken, dog,” El Diablo said. “I am not dead.” He pulled out a gun and fired it at the boy, murdering him as the bullet struck his head and severed his life. He looked at MacGyver and grinned viciously. “That boy is, though. I made certain of that.”
MacGyver watched in horror, forced to relive the tragic moment, unable to comprehend why he was seeing it again or how or what had become of Pete.
“You cannot escape me, dog,” El Diablo said. “I follow you everywhere.”
“No,” MacGyver said. “NO!”
Realizing that, somehow unlike the first time he had witnessed the brutal killing, he was unhindered by weakness, hunger, or his numerous incapacitating injuries inflicted by torture, MacGyver allowed his rage at El Diablo to consume him. He lunged at him, knocking him to the ground, beating him mercilessly for what he had done—not only to the little boy, but to him, punishing him severely for his cruel acts, unable to contain it any longer. He had been subjected to tortures and had been powerless for far too long. It was time for retribution. Even though he normally didn’t consider himself a violent man, resorting to it only as a measure of self defense, he felt strongly that a monster like El Diablo deserved it for his constant, remorseless inhumanity.
***
“MacGyver! MacGyver, you’ve got to stop this!” Pete shouted, struggling and rolling on the desert floor as he tried to avoid his friend’s blows. “MacGyver, it’s me! It’s Pete!”
He didn’t know what to do or how to react, other than to show surprise at his friend’s sudden transformation, his eyes intense and burning with hatred, his face contorted with savage rage as he continued to pummel him with his fists. They had been having as normal a conversation they could given the unusual situation that presented itself to them when MacGyver began speaking to the ghosts of his past again, lost in another flashback, his eyes focused on some distant point on someone only he could interact with and see. He didn’t know how to fight back, not wanting to harm MacGyver, yet he knew he couldn’t continue to be beaten by him, either.
“MacGyver,” he groaned, the pain of each punch increasing. “MacGyver, snap out of it! You have to come back to me! Please…oh, come on…Mac!”
MacGyver wrapped his hands around Pete’s neck, squeezing tightly.
“Why? Why did you kill that boy? Why did you do this to me? Why?” He shouted, pressing on Pete’s neck. Tears were rolling down his face.
“I…” Pete squeaked and wheezed, unable to say anything else, his throat being crushed and constricted by the powerful clasp of MacGyver’s hands.
Oh God…he doesn’t know what he’s doing…he’s going to kill me, and he doesn’t even realize… As the world began to fade and Pete was certain he was about to die at the hands of his best friend, MacGyver released his grip on his neck and collapsed into unconsciousness. It took several minutes for Pete to regain his breath before he could move his sore, battered body to see what had happened to his friend. He felt for his pulse. It was rapid, and he was hot from exerting such force and energy, his body soaked in sweat.
“My God,” he said, tears threatening. “What just happened? What’s wrong with you, friend?”
He had never seen MacGyver experience such a violent flashback before. Nightmares were common, but never before had he acted out as he had just then. He began to worry. All this time, he thought MacGyver had been getting better. It had after all been five years, and El Diablo was dead, but somehow, only recently it seemed, his condition had actually managed to grow worse. He was having delusions and acting paranoid and violent. Pete wanted to believe him when he said he knew this woman named Kay and a town called Red Dunes, but now he wasn’t so sure. It all seemed to be a part of his slowly unraveling mind. MacGyver was more self-aware than even he sometimes realized, and Pete was afraid that he might have been right when he said that he was losing his mind.
To be continued…
"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer."
--Henry David Thoreau
brains+brawn+beauty+personality=MacGyver
Wow! What a twist!
