Darkest Hour Before Dawn
By DJ Dork
By now it was already six in the morning, but without a watch or any device capable of relaying time, no one would of guessed. The rising sun, the pallid beauty of the morning sky, hid behind the reigning storm. The ominous stretch of abnormally gray clouds dumped an endless curtain of rain upon the battered rooftops and flooded streets. The fierce wind howled rattling shutters and doors like a snakes drum. Thunder cracked and rumbled, and every couple of minutes lightning flashed-at times lighting the dull and tired room.
All together the storm's clatter melded as one, and produced such an uproar that drowned any thinking and prevented thoughts from coming alive.
For Rochelle, there were both positive and negative outcomes.
The storm helped stray her thoughts from returning to the inescapable billow of a pain, but at the same time hindered sleep. She laid still across the lumpy mattress on the floor pulled from the broken bed in the upstairs room. A old, slightly torn, but warm blanket covered her body. She was unable to move, and unable to escape. With each movement a spasm of pain seized control, and she was forced to face the ceiling and stare at the lines multiplying and spiraling in front of her lethargic eyes. Her head throbbed-the feeling of a migraine-and her expeditious heartbeat struggled to pump blood from the tip of her toes and up her body where bandages wrapped her chest and right arm. Her legs now were the only part free from the agony, but even then suffered weakness, and the prickly sensation of falling asleep.
Rochelle took slow and easy breaths feeling the heat rise up her throat. She moved her fingers, rolling them into fists, and inhaled a strained sob. Her eyes brimmed with tears, and she blinked them away letting herself fall under the upbeat and off-rhythm tempo of the storm.
"Ro, how are you feeling?" The voice, usually joking or complaining, now wafted in the air tangled between solemnest and concern.
Rochelle strained her neck to the right biting back a groan. For the first time since arriving she was able to get somewhat of a sense of the room. A single lit candle supported the only light. The flame flickered, casting slanted dancing shadows of furniture across the wall. In the mix, Rochelle was able to spot a dresser, a nightstand, and a mirror. Although Nick, sitting on a chair in the middle of the room, dominated her view of anything else. The candle rested on the wooden floor by his feet, and shined the front half of his body.
A shotgun laid across his lap where his right hand slung protectively over the weapon. His other rested on the arm of the chair, and struggled to keep his head up. His green eyes stared down at her, the light of the flame revealed his lack of sleep.
"I feel…" Rochelle tried to speak, but barely found her voice. She twisted her face failing to ignore the thumping pressure in her head. Nick straightened in the chair. "…like shit. Like the world just collapsed on me."
There was a brief silence in the room and the storm did most of the talking until Nick found the right words to say. "You'll be okay."
"How…long have we've been here?"
Nick shrugged. "I haven't been counting, but my guess is close to two hours."
Rochelle lowered her jaw. "We need to get moving soon. Virgil is waiting for us. We need to return the gas, but the storm isn't letting up and-"
She paused biting her lip, and turned her head to the ceiling trying to block out the pain crashing down upon her body. Her chest heaved, and she shut her eyes feeling the tears fighting to return, but again she won the battle of pushing them away.
"We're not going anywhere until you are better," Nick said in a warning. "You need to rest."
"But…what about…"
Despite the treacherous downpour, she heard Coach and Ellis's voices echoing from down the hallway passing through the opened door.
"I'm sure they agree with me. If not, I'll knock some common sense into them."
"Have you gotten any sleep?"
"I'm not the one who needs it."
"You're a bad lair, you know."
Nick shifted in his chair causing the flame to jitter erratically before calming. "Don't worry about me, sweetheart."
Rochelle turned her head to the wall feeling herself lie on the edge of dormancy.
Outside the storm began to let up. The rain softened to a careful shower, and the wind's howl diminished. The intervals between thunder and lightning grew, showing the distance of the passing storm.
"I am in so much pain…"
"The pills are probably wearing off." Nick pushed the chair out from underneath him and rose to his feet stretching. "I'll go get some more."
Rochelle's head spun toward his direction, and she looked up at him towering over her. She couldn't quite explain why, maybe it was her exposed vulnerability or the current gloom condition she was in, but for some reason she didn't want to be alone.
"Nick."
"Yes?"
"Could you…" Rochelle closed her eyes. Now that the storm wasn't a factor, she felt herself succumbing to the long needed sleep. "Stay? I don't want to be alone…"
"Stay together, y'all!" Coach's voice drowned underneath the wrath of the storm, but managed to reach their ears in a cry of urgency.
Rochelle tightened her grip around the baseball bat after climbing on top of an abandoned car to escape the flood. She sighed with a moment of relief, able to catch her breath, but shivered within her soaked clothes which stuck to her skin and hugged her body in the most uncomfortable places.
"Anyone know where we are?" Nick asked as he and Coach brought up the rear.
Ellis stood next to Rochelle on the roof of the car aiming his rifle at a zombie charging with ease through the knee-high waters. He fired a wave of shots, and the zombie's gibberish cry ceased as its limp body was engulfed under the flood. "I think that playground we passed is just up ahead." He pointed straight ahead, but Rochelle saw nothing but a faint outline of buildings.
The storm, once again, picked up momentum and hurtled another gust of wind and rain at them. Rochelle tensed and braced herself on the car trying not to loose balance. She gritted her teeth at the rain greeting her skin like pellets. The storm obscured her view, and added more unnecessary weight against her body. The tank of gas strapped on her back proved to be enough of a challenge.
"Why couldn't this just be a simple task?" Rochelle could barely hear herself talk. "Just get the gas, and get back to Virgil."
Ellis laughed, and slid to the hood of the car. "Aw come on, Ro. Nothing is a simple task for us, you should know that by now. Enjoy the adventure."
Ellis looked over his shoulder at her and grinned, and Rochelle couldn't help but force a smile in return.
The strongest wave of the storm died off, but the rain fell in an endless bundle. Coach and Nick waded in the water past them protecting themselves against the storm and zombies.
"There's a ladder up ahead. Let's climb the rooftops again," Coach said, taking the lead to the nearest house.
Rochelle carefully moved to the hood, and slipped back into the flooded streets. She used her strength to push through the raging waters, and move herself forward. She looked ahead able to see Coach and Ellis reach the roof where they moved with an easy stride. Nick waited for her by the ladder and urged her to go before him.
Rochelle tucked her bat away and grabbed the metal bars testing her grip before she attempted the slippery escalade. She hoisted herself out of the water and reached the roof where Coach helped her to her feet. After feeling secure with the bat in her hands she walked toward Ellis who quickly dispersed of any zombies in their path.
Her heart jumped at the sight of the playground a block away just beyond the two story building in front of them. Ellis's keen sense of direction was correct. They were heading in the right direction, and were one step closer to the Burger Tank restaurant.
"See," Ellis grinned. "I told ya. It's just ahead."
Rochelle smiled and nodded, but a sound-a cry-halted her every movements and sent a lump to her throat. Not even the storm, however powerful it was, could block out the youthful mourn of a Witch. The crying, reminding her of a child who lost their toy, sent an uncontrollable shiver up her spine. She looked down at the streets unable to see far through the sheet of rain.
"I hear a Witch," Rochelle whispered.
Nick and Coach drew near them, also aware of the dangerous threat lurking somewhere in the drowning neighborhood.
Ellis jumped and cocked his weapon, at the new problem waddling closer on all fours. The hysterical laugher was no laughing matter to them.
"Jockey!"
Rochelle jumped, startled, and inhaled a sharp breath. She opened her heavy eyes, taking a moment to figure out her current location. She heard the rain outside, and noticed the dark ceiling above once her vision came to. Rochelle tugged on the blanket concealing the upper half of her body, and locking in the escaping warmth.
She whimpered thinking back to the unfortunate events that occurred to them-mostly her. After this was all over she would have many battle scars-each with their own story connected to them-but in the state of depression, she feared she wouldn't make it out to see another day. Each of them had conquered the murderous cry of a Witch, or some kind of zombie that left them battered and feeling incomplete.
But her turn-her time-was far more critical than any other.
"Did you have a nightmare?" She heard Nick's voice, and craned her head to see him lolling in the chair more exhausted than before.
"You can say that."
"How are you feeling?"
Rochelle winced. The pain was, not as strong, but still there. "I still feel the same."
Nick's face grimaced under the candle light. He turned and averted his gaze looking down at the floor. Rochelle swallowed, and rubbed her forehead wiping the sweat from her brow. In the back of her conscious mind she could still hear the Witch-the apparent never ending cry-looming in the background but reaching her eardrums taunting her. A reminder of what her body went through. Thanks God she passed out during the ordeal.
"I can still…" Rochelle sighed returning to the ceiling. "Hear that Witch, you know."
"Ro…"
"I can still hear her crying, but I know at the same time some of it was me." Rochelle paused, and her eyes trailed to Nick. He returned a silent gaze. His eyes pleaded for her not to continue, and Rochelle believed the subject was just as hard on him as it was for her. "How do I look?" Rochelle changed the topic and reached for her hair pulling at her loose strands. "Be honest with me."
"Like shit," Nick replied. He quirked an eyebrow. "Why is it though that even in an apocalypse women only care about their looks?"
His comment made Rochelle laugh, but her chest riddled in pain, and she thought twice about doing it again. "I guess we are just that self conscious."
Nick rolled his eyes, but grinned. "Women."
"How come you haven't gotten any sleep?"
Nick sat up and set the shotgun on the floor. He rested his arms on his knees. "Why are you so worried about me getting some sleep? You can give a man a heart attack you know."
A smile tugged at the end of her lips. "I didn't know you cared so much, Nick."
"I care about all of us getting out of here."
Another twinge circulated through her arm, but one Rochelle was able to ignore. "Says the man who was originally going to leave us behind."
"What can I say? I guess I have grown…fond of you guys."
"Wow, so you actually do have a soft spot."
Nick paused, and in the shimmer of the flame he gave a small smirk. "You have no idea." His voice dropped to a whisper, but his expression lasted a mere second until his eyes trailed to her bandages and he ran his fingers through his hair agitated.
Rochelle twisted her body in an attempt to roll on the mattress, but her chest burned from the inside out. The spasms came to life, igniting like fireworks, and she sobbed pressing her lips together to stifle any other groans or cries dying to be released. She wasn't ready yet to move, and Rochelle soon feared it would be a long time before she was on her feet again.
"Today's top story, Rochelle isn't going to make it."
Nick frowned folding his arms. "Don't be so pessimistic."
Heavy footsteps pounded on the floor vibrating from the hallway, and Rochelle knew they belonged to Coach before he stepped into view. He stood in the doorway, as if contemplating his actions, before making the attempt to enter the small room. He carried three bars of chocolate in his hands, and a bottled water.
"Hey baby-girl." His voice was cheerful, but even he couldn't hide the anxiousness present.
"Hey, Coach." Rochelle returned a weak smile.
"I came to see how you was doing. How are you holdin out?" Coach stood at the end of the mattress. He acknowledged Nick on the chair, but never turned his sights from Rochelle.
"I wish I was doing better."
Coach nodded and frowned. He looked down at his hands. "I brought you some food…thinkin you might be hungry, but all I have is chocolate."
"That's not surprising," Nick muttered.
Coach ignored him and continued. "I'm sure you don't want none, though." Rochelle shook her head. "But I did bring some water."
Nick looked up at the older man. "Where's Ellis?"
"Sleepin'. He's havin' a hard time dealing with this, but is still stayin' positive." Coach bent over and handed Rochelle the bottle.
"I'm sorry I have you all worried," Rochelle said, accepting the water. She opened the top, and lifted her head just enough to drink without spilling. She took a couple of sips, letting the warm liquid quench her dry throat. Though the water wasn't cold, she was happy to have something hit her empty stomach.
Coach waved her off. "No, we just got to look out for each other. Soon, you'll be back on yo feet, but we just gotta have to wait until then."
"Thanks, Coach."
Coach smiled. "I'm gonna return to watch. I'll be back to visit later."
"Bye, Coach. Thank you again."
She set the bottle down next to her on the floor, and faced the ceiling allowing her mind to wander back to the Witch. She listened to her breathing increase. Coach, Nick, and Ellis-all of them have been there for her worrying and risking their lives. She needs to survive. She needs to pull through, but the pain is always there and she feels herself sinking instead of rising.
Tears welded in her eyes, and she tried to fight them not wanting Nick to see her cry again, but believed that letting her emotions run clean would help ease her mind. The crystalline droplets streamed down her warm cheeks, and Rochelle whimpered.
"Ro." Nick moved off the chair, and slid to the floor next to the mattress. "What's wrong?"
More tears escaped freedom at the thought of Nick joining her side wanting to be close to her. She suddenly felt embarrassed like she was portraying herself as some damsel in distress instead of proving herself worthy.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"Acting like a two year old. There is one thing I loathe more than having to track across town for some gas and that's those damn Witches." Rochelle wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I feel useless right now."
"You just need to get better," Nick soothed.
"I know but…"
"I'll tell you what, when we're back on the move and encounter another Witch all of us will team up and knock her off her ass. We'll give that son of bitch something to cry about." Rochelle heaved a sigh and nodded feeling herself spirits lift from Nick's words and comfort. "But you've got to get better for me…for all of us. I feel so bad."
"Why?" Rochelle asked closing her eyes. Sleep began to take hold.
"Because I feel like…I…" Nick stammered with his words, but before he could finally say what he wanted, Rochelle had already fallen asleep.
"Shoot it!"
"Shit, kill the jockey!"
Clamor exploded around her, and Rochelle's heartbeat battered her ribcage. Gunfire rattled in her ears and bullets sprayed in every direction toward the quick Jockey. Rochelle tossed her bat to the side, and grabbed a pistol-her backup weapon-seeing it direct its sights on her.
Ellis raced after the zombie, but a thick long tongue wrapped around his body and reeled him back in the opposite direction. Rochelle heard Coach curse besides her, and run to Ellis's aid leaving her and Nick to deal with the little menace.
"Smoker's got me!" Ellis cried.
"Hold on, son. I'm coming."
Nick locked his sights with the Jockey, and even with a perfect opportunity fired a moment too late and missed. The zombie lunged forward, hopping into the air, and cut short Rochelle's scream. The hunchback looking undead blocked her view, latched onto her head, and pulled her toward the edge of the roof.
"Get this thing off me!"
Rochelle panicked struggling against the dominating zombie. She tried to keep her feet moving, pulling it away from the edge and toward the men, but she screamed as the her body toppled to the streets below. She landed on her feet, but pain raced up her legs from the impact. If it wasn't for the Jockey, she would of buckled right then and there.
The Jockey's laughter filled her ears, and the racing gunfire helped keep her somewhat sane, but when the its hold tightened around her hell broke loose and crushed her sanity to pieces. Rochelle struggled to inhale, wanting to fill her lungs, waiting for any flow of passage through her airways. She heard her fellow companions calling after her, but the more she moved away from them, the more she felt herself losing.
Her back slammed into a car, and the Jockey maneuvered her around the sinking vehicle guiding her closer to the crying. The mourn of the Witch grew in her ears, and Rochelle knew at that point her eyes also brought tears.
"Hold on, Ro!"
Finally, the Jockey released its hold and tumbled to the ground, but the pain in her legs crumbled under her weight, and she collapsed. Her breathing respired in quick deep breaths, and just as the water splashed onto her body and face, the shrieks of the Witch above her caused life to freeze.
Rochelle lost all movements in her muscles and ligaments. The remaining strength in her body completely drained, and withered. All she could do was stare into the white anomaly eyes of a startled Witch and scream, before her world went black.
Rochelle shivered and opened her eyes waiting for them to adjust to her surroundings. She yawned, exhaled a deep breath, and stretched her arm reaching for her bottled water. Out the corner of her eye a shadow stirred to life and a southern draw filled the room in excitement.
"Ro!"
"Ellis?"
Rochelle turned to find him on the chair where he smiled and immediately jumped to his feet. She had to admit, she was upset not to find Nick sitting by her like usual, but seeing Ellis put a smile on her face.
"I'm so glad to see you awake. I was afraid I wouldn't see your eyes again."
"I'm glad to see you too, Ellis." Rochelle yawned once more, taking a quick drink.
"Are you able to sit up?"
Rochelle leaned her body forward anticipating the pain, but surprisingly only suffered a dull ache. "I think so…" Rochelle reached out for his hand. "Can you help me?"
"Sure thing." Ellis moved quickly to her side, and with his help-after a few struggling efforts-she was able to sit up right on the mattress.
A wave of vertigo knocked through her senses and she felt dizzy as the room appeared to spin. She closed her eyes to get rid of the ill feeling and held her head with both hands hoping to suppress the unpleasant urge to vomit.
"Better?"
Rochelle breathed in and out before nodding and lowering her hands to her side. "For now, I'm not sure how long I can sit like this though."
Ellis grinned. "I got something for ya." He reached behind him and grabbed an item lying by the chair. He spun back around revealing a chocolate bar in his hand. "Goodies."
Rochelle chuckled, and gladly accepted the candy bar ready to fill her stomach with something other than water. Ellis watched as she tore off the wrapper. She broke a piece for herself, tossed it into her mouth, and offered him some.
"No thank you. This here is yours."
"Where is Nick?" Rochelle asked quickly devouring another bite.
"Oh, he's just talking with Coach. He was real upset earlier. I've never seen him like that."
This caught her attention. "Really? Why?"
Ellis shrugged and rubbed his chin. "I'm not quite sure, but I think it has something to do with you keep fallin' asleep. I overheard him and Coach talkin', not that I wanted to, but you know they're really loud sometimes so I couldn't help it, but anyway I guess Nick blames himself that you were attacked by the Witch."
Rochelle blinked astonished by the discovery. "He does?"
Ellis nodded. "Yep. He said he should of killed the Jockey before it started ridin' ya. He hesitated or somethin' like that. I find it strange 'cause Nick never blames himself for anythin."
"I know…" Rochelle muttered.
"I can tell he'll never live this down."
"Do you mind getting him for me? I want to ask him something."
Ellis shook his head. "No problem. Sit tight, and I'll go get him." Before Ellis left he grabbed another chocolate bar to give to her. "Here, eat up."
Ellis's upbeat footsteps sounded his departure as he left the room and ventured into the hallway. Rochelle drowned in the silence now realizing the rain outside had stopped. She satisfied her hunger with the other bar of chocolate, and by the time Nick arrived, a few minutes later, she had finished her water and candy.
"I see you're doing better," Nick exclaimed with much relief. He took a seat on the chair.
"I am." Rochelle smiled. "And…I'm sorry for falling asleep on you earlier."
Nick waved her off. "I understand you needed your rest."
Rochelle nodded and fiddled with the empty wrapper refusing to meet his gaze. "I…Ellis told me you were upset about what happened."
Nick sighed and shook his head. "He did?"
"Do you really blame yourself?"
Nick paused rubbing his lips together before answering-clearly livid with himself. "If I had just killed that damn Jockey then none of this would have happened."
"I don't blame you," Rochelle explained finally meeting his gaze. "It's not your fault, Nick."
"I was worried that you wouldn't recover. If something ever happened to you…." Nick's voice trailed and he looked away.
Rochelle waited for him to finish, but when he made no effort to do so, she tossed the blanket aside and began to rise to her feet. She swung her feet around to the floor, pushing back any pain, and used her hands as support to lift herself from the mattress. Unfortunately she was unable to complete the task alone. Nick stood and grabbed her arm and hand helping her to a full stance.
When Nick was about to pull away Rochelle wrapped her arms around him and leaned her head against his chest embracing him. She closed her eyes, enjoying the comfort of being within his arms. Her heart raced, but feeling his beating just as swiftly as her calmed her nerves and set her mind at peace.
"This may sound corny, but…when I am with you, I feel my strength returning," Rochelle confessed. Tears brimmed her eyes, but she was content to say they weren't tears of pain. "Just promise me you won't leave. That's all I ask."
Nick pressed his lips to her hair, and tightened the hug careful of her wounds. "I promise, Ro. I won't."
Author's Notes:
Those Jockey's get you every time.
This one-shot has been sitting on my hard drive begging to be finished. I caved in and completed it.
I was originally going to submit this with my Ellis x Rochelle one-shot I am working on to get a little "double feature" type thing going on, but I get impatient even with myself sometimes.
Look out for the other one sometime in the near future, and for now enjoy this one.
My apologizes for any mistakes. This is was a long one to read through.
-DJ Dork