The Last Hope

Reno bathed in the relief of having found his trusted medical case for only a few seconds. He couldn't allow himself to wait any longer, and he got to work. It promised to not be a pleasant experience; after all, he only had one arm left to use, and his strength, both physical and mental, was on the brink of being completely exhausted.

With desperate determination written all over his deathly pale and dirty face, his arm skillfully, but at the same time visibly struggling, opened the locks of the metallic case.

A light click resounded in the eerie silence of the dark underground chamber. As it jumped open, Reno saw the bumpy surface, which he had used as a shield, fall back and reveal the interior.

When his gaze landed on the many different medical instruments, his heart seemed to jump in excitement and happiness, as if he had just found the most valuable treasure in existence.

In some sense, this analogy was not so out of place at the moment. An item's value was always determined by the degree of its necessity, a lesson he had learned from his father early on, as it was one of the fundamentals to understand how global and local markets worked. But its meaning applied to everything in a person's life.

Not wanting his mind to fall into a bad mood while thinking about his family, Reno refocused on the task at hand.

Stabilizing the case with his legs, the still-working arm reached for a small dosage of morphine—a very common painkiller for emergency situations—and made it hover above a section of his upper right leg where the case wasn't blocking it.

Then, without hesitating, he made the needle penetrate his skin and flesh, hitting accurately at the point he had aimed at.

It stung, but Reno might have laughed at how minor the pain felt compared to his current physical state if his throat didn't burn every time he tried to utter a sound.

After usage, he threw the now useless container away.

When his gaze landed back on the case and his hand grabbed another container, which, when injected, would help against inflammation and help reduce fever, he already felt the morphine working its magic.

As if someone had cast a healing spell on him, his hurting body relaxed, and the immeasurable pain radiating from his almost completely wrecked left arm slowly weakened. Of course, he knew it wasn't something as mysterious and ridiculous as a spell but simply science—working in the central nervous system and brain to block pain signals to the rest of the body.

'Oh, how I love opiates...'

Reno almost had to smirk at his mental comment, which was now possible as the pain began to recede, and he wouldn't be engulfed by a wave of harrowing agony anymore.

But he still couldn't bring himself to, his own situation too severe and his anxiety about the fate of his family, and the others gnawing at his mind every second, only repressed by sheer will.

After injecting the other dose, he also threw it away and soon injected himself with electrolytes, strengthening his immune system.

When all of these tasks were finished, he finally allowed himself to relax for a moment.

He breathed in the cold air of the desert, filling the chamber through the holes in the ancient dome.

Then his gaze landed on the interior of his med kit once again.

He identified the tools he would be using next: the heating blanket, a bag of nutrition bars, a water skin, and a triangular bandage, which was mainly used for securing patients' arms and preventing them from erratic motions.

'Being paranoid would pay off someday. I knew it.'

Usually, water and food weren't stored in med kits of this standard, but Reno had personalized it for many different scenarios.

First, he took out the bandage and clumsily, but at the same time with the utmost caution, bound it around his shoulder with practiced motions. As he had to do it on himself and only with one arm, he needed to become creative, and it took him quite a while, but somehow, he fabricated an ugly iteration of what the folding pattern should look like.

Anyway, it didn't matter how it looked. It only needed to work.

Then he wrapped the heat blanket around his body as best as he could, the cold finally giving way to some warmth.

After that, his eyes fell on the water skin and the food, a hungry gleam dancing within them.

When the already warm liquid ran down his parched throat, it felt like the best thing in the world.

When he bit into the tasteless nutrient bars, they tasted like the best food in the world.

He finally had a real improvement in his mood as his stomach got filled and water revitalized him. The drugs he had injected himself with also contributed to this change, greatly so.

After he finished eating and drinking, wisely leaving a good bit as reserves, the tiredness made itself known once again.

Reno wasn't really able to battle against it, so he eventually let it consume him. There was no other option, really. His body needed rest, and before that, nothing else could be done.

His preparations for the rest of the night had been achieved to the best of his abilities and resources. There was nothing else he could do now.

So, he fell asleep, right on the hill of sand where he had woken up an unknown period of time ago.

...

...

...

Reno felt a familiar warmth on his face and refused to open his eyes even though he was awake. The feeling of comfort he felt was too enthralling and peaceful.

But suddenly, his memories of the past day resurfaced in his mind.

His eyelids shot open, and he was blinded by a bright light source seemingly directed exactly at him.

He squinted and raised his hand in an attempt to shield his face. Unfortunately, this was prevented as his left arm experienced an explosion of pain and was further blocked in its movement by the bandage. Only his right arm rose while it also shuddered from the shock.

At least the pain helped him properly wake up and also remember the last bits of yesterday.

'The morphine has already worn down,' Reno realized with a twisted expression.

This would mean he had at least slept six hours. Judging by the position of the sun high above him, he would need to add more hours to that count, though.

'It must be about noon by now... I have to add a few more hours, then. So, roughly 12 hours, more or less, I guess. Damn.'

Reno turned away from the sun with a solemn look, already recovering from the all-too-familiar pain.

He gazed into the darkness of the underground space.

It was about time he got moving. Nobody had shown up above him to find him, and it was already noon. He couldn't wait.

His reserves wouldn't last long anymore, and every minute that passed could mean the death or survival of people who might have found a way into the ruins as well as him. This also included his father, James, and Dieb. A dark expression crawled along his features when he thought about them.

Reno had figured if, under the slim chance, they had survived here, it would have only been possible if they went into the ruins like him. Maybe they had already uncovered an entrance before the storm, like they had planned from the beginning.

He had to hope. That was the only thing he could do.

If he wanted to live as well as find remaining survivors, he had to traverse the ruins underground and locate the entrance they had used or be lucky and find another way out. But even if he did, would that even help? He was far away from civilization with no way of calling for help.

Reno felt cold once more, even though the heat of the desert seemed to reach down here during the day to some degree, at least here where the sun reached.

He shook his head. Such thoughts did nothing good.

He suppressed his anxiety and worries like he had done yesterday—all for the sake of hope and his will to survive.

Before he got going, his gaze landed on the med kit. Should he inject himself with one more dose of morphine?

No, his body felt way better now, and his arm would only hurt if stimulated too much. Also, who knew if he would desperately need it in the next few hours or days even more than now?

Yes, that was the correct decision.

He only drank a little more water out of the skin and bit down on a nutrient bar. Then he closed the case, slid down the hill, and faced the darkness of the chamber with deep, desperate determination in his heart.

'I need to find a way... and search for survivors. That's my only hope. That's all I can do.'

With that, he stepped out of the light, and his fragile figure disappeared into the cold and terrifying shadows.