He thought nothing of the lightening storm.
There was just no way. He was dead. He buried him himself.
Watching the storm through his apartment window, Zeke Dunbar sighed and hoped it would pass faster than he knew it would. Felt good though, not having to cough while watching lightening strike down in the city.
Damn, miss you brother.
Shutting the blinds, tired of remembering he fell down on the couch and flipped on the TV, running his hands over his face and trying to ignore the familiar voice screaming as thunder fell.
His eyes opened up to darkness. A stillness in the air that kept him laying still for a moment. He was on his back, soft fabric over his legs and in an attempt to stretch out weak muscles he hands braced close walls.
Confused he padded the walls, realizing there was a top as well and the walls were incredibly close and that it was hard to breathe. And then it hit him
He was buried alive.
Panic set in as he pushed at the top, holding his breath and feeling weaker by the minute as dirt flew into the box, getting in his eyes and nails and with a final shove he managed to get the lip open enough to drag himself six feet, air gone from his lungs and fear guiding his hands as he shot through the ground, sucking in lungfuls of air and spitting out dirt and roots.
His vision was burred and his mind was attempting to comprehend what had happened. He barely remembered who he was, and that he could hear screams and frightened murmuring before he collapsed, rain pelting on his back and face half-buried in mud.
Notes
I had no idea where I was, all I knew was I was afraid and thirsty. I was buried alive, maybe I was dead, heard a woman muttering about how I should be dead.
There were people visiting the cemetary I popped out of, they called an ambulance and now I'm here, alone in a hospital. All seems so familiar...like this has happened before but I can't remember.
Nurse says that's common with trauma. Still can't get over the way she looks at me. Like she knows me.
They say I should stay a few days but I'm itchy and still thirsty, like every glass of water I drink isn't good enough, And it hurts to drink.
I just want to know why. Why was I six feet under, and why does everything I touch explode on contact? Why can't I shower without burning and why am I here now?
It's all too much.
Audio file between Zeke Dunbar and Rosco Larioche filed 237B
"How the hell did they find a conduit?"
"That's what I've been asking. Cole killed them all in that blast, from what I heard all of them died."
"But they found another one. Maybe the RFI missed a couple.
"Maybe. We sould get there as quick as we can, they said he's itching to get away. Says he does...does what Cole could do."
"What"
"Hooked em' up to a heart monitor. Guy blew it apart. Even destroyed lab equipment and drained electricity from half way across the hospital. They're keeping hiv on lockdown though, but a nurse asked for you."
"Me?"
"You were close to Cole. Maybe they figure you can help this guy from freaking the fuck out."
"Alright. Let ve get a few things."
End file