It was a strange combination of pleasant and uncomfortable, in the same way kisses from a cute aunt might make you giddy and ill at the same time. The worn, cratered path that had, at one point, been made smooth enough for cyclists to ride along in safety now looked as though it had been poxed and scarred with acne. It was along this path that Bobbie Sheridan was navigating.
Urgh! he grunted, feeling the front of the bike dip then launch suddenly into the air as he hit a particularly large hole, the force whacking his balls against the seat like a mallet against a bean bag. Oww! Then, as quickly as the pain had come, he reached a steady stretch of path which seemed to apologise by dolling a steady vibration that rocked and shushed his man-sack back to sleep.
Bobbie loved to ride. His gleaming blue and silver Xodus road bike – a birthday gift from his mother – shone in the sun and made him feel like royalty. To Bobbie, it was like riding a Japanese bullet train. When he first pulled into the schoolyard he felt like a freakin’ god, skidding the back tyre and kicking up small pebbles at Frankie Denver’s shins.
Kids gathered around, snapping pics on their mobiles and uploading sweet images of his ride to all of their social platforms.
HASHTAG BobbiesKickassRide.
And now, on his way home, the speed of the bike was comparable to running along an airport travellator – the correct way, of course. He had his padded black headphones which screamed the incomprehensible words of his latest heavy metal band into his ears, the sleek metal of Xodus between his legs – and he was fucking loving it.
The path became uneven again, but the handling on the bike allowed Bobbie to weave around the remaining potholes like Tom Dugan. His mouth stretched ear to ear, his tongue flapping in the wind.
Until the music stopped.
“Jesus”, he moaned. It was only a minor disruption, but certainly enough to blow some of the wind from his sails. He slowed, carved the path (working his way smoothly past a woman with a parasoled buggy), before skidding next to a garden wall and checking his phone. The smile returned.
On the screen of his second-hand iPhone he could see little icons litter the top bar. He gave a swipe, clicked on each notification and laughed out loud, as if each person commenting on the pics of his new Hot Rod could hear. On Kyle Humphrey’s Instagram account (humpalump) he read: HASHTAG jell of my boyz new trophy!, underneath the blurred image of Bobbie mid-skid – 8 new followers. On Snapchat, Elise Johnson (Elise_Princess_xo) showed the faces of fifteen guys ogling the bike and giving knuckle dusters to Bobbie’s thick brown locks – 12 new followers. And so it went…
The annoyance from the music’s interruption from the notifications dissipated, replaced by a warm satisfaction that came with each new ‘follower’ bubble. On Bobbie’s own Instagram account (BobztheGobz01) he was coming up to the big 1k, an achievement that would be made all the sweeter by clinching Zach Jackson to the post. (He was currently hovering on 987).
Bobbie clicked RESUME on his music player and set off again.
A couple hundred meters further up the road he could see the crest of a small hill. It broached a T-junction in which Bobbie would cross the traffic lights, take a left, relax off the pedal, and glide on home. But first was the hard climb, or at least, it used to be. With Xodus, he found it alarmingly easy – almost like riding a bike!
As he approached the traffic lights the music cut off again. Plunging his hand in his pocket he felt the dull vibrations and checked his notifications for the last time. The swipe-down menu showed a litany of bubbles. New friends, comments and shares. Bobbie didn’t even look up from his phone as he pressed the button for the crossing. He heard a faint beeping for the green man and, once more, clicked PLAY for his music.
If only he had taken a second to look, he might have seen that the LED man on his side of the road was still red. He definitely wouldn’t have started shuffling his feet forward on the bike, out into the open road. He would’ve seen the blue Subaru Impreza hurtling over the breast of the hill, disobeying the speed limit, but obeying the instructions of his own green light.
Glass rained on tarmac. The blow hit Bobbie square in the stomach. He kissed the windscreen with bloody lips. The driver braked sharply. It was too late. Bobbie flew over the car’s bonnet and crumpled like spaghetti dropped onto a china plate. Someone screamed.
The driver jumped out the car – some witnesses would later remember him pocketing his own phone – and ran to where Bobbie lay, head to one side. Pain screamed through every part of his body and he felt consciousness begin to fade. Somewhere, in an alternate reality where everything was far off and foggy, he saw the shapes of those huddled around him. A man screamed in his face, but he couldn’t hear him. All Bobbie could see was a sea of black tarmac from his left eye, and the screen of his phone in his right. It lit up, an inch or so away. Another notification bubble. It was the Instagram camera logo. 3 new followers.
I did it… thought Bobbie, as the screen began to fade. I hit the big 1k. Thanks Xodus. A jolt of pain circled his body and he felt the air rush out his mouth. Somewhere someone was thumping heavy fists to his numb chest. Thanks everyone…
Suddenly, as the pain began to subside and fall into nothingness Bobbie realised he may be dying. After all, that would explain why the world was shining bright white, right? He felt like laughing, though no air was left to escape his lungs. As the iPhone washed away in white, he wondered if anyone would follow him in the afterlife.
Enjoy that?
Then check out the previous stories from this volume.
2.1 Simon
2.2 Finders Keepers
Written by Daniel Willcocks.
Published by Hawk & Cleaver | A digital story production studio bringing you the best new stories for you to watch, read, sniff, and absorb.
This has been Episode 2.3 of The Other Stories | Sci-Fi/Horror/Thriller/WTF stories delivered to your Steemit feed every Monday morning.
