Diary of Nick
Tuesday, March 16th, 2010
We've been at this for a while, but our efforts still haven't been enough to save us. It would have been perfect if the pilot that found us back at the carnival hadn't been infected. Rochelle got bit pretty badly earlier, too, but Coach has it under control. We're past that now, but our next rescue didn't get us far. The boat's out of fuel, and here we are sitting in another safe house with gas cans strapped to our backs. We'll leave soon, but I dread having to tread through the sugar mill again. Oh man, I never thought I would see so many witches in one place.
Speaking of witches, someone really ought to teach Ellis that they're best avoided. I can't tell if he's trying to be a hero, or if he's about as bright as that buddy of his that he won't shut up about. I guess I can't blame him. This is the life we've got, and we might as well make the most of it. If he wants to alert the masses and rain blood, that's great. But this suit is a rental, and these stains will never come out.
"Hey, Nick, whatcha writin'?"
I look over from the leather-bound address book, now a journal, in my hands. The kid is sitting on a table, beside some ammunition and weapons, and looking back at me. "Nothing," I reply.
The worn but friendly smile on his face sinks into a frown.
I sigh. "It's personal, okay?"
"Okay," he says simply, and for a moment puts on a smile again. Cradling the shotgun in his arms, he leans back against the wall and idly examines the shelves.
Sometimes before we leave the safe house, like this time, right after we close that blessed door, we strategize. Ellis is the one to come up with the strategies most of the time. But he's young and reckless. Rush the infected. Run to the next safe house. Every man for himself. He and that Keith kid must have been two of a kind. So long as I can keep up with him, though, we watch each other's backs, and we're golden! But if Rochelle, Coach, or I fall behind, he won't slow down.
I understand that the infected find us and come rushing at us when we're at a standstill, but it's neither as frequent nor as deadly as he makes it out to be. I mean... let's face it. We've already killed a thousand infected. What's a dozen more?
I admire his courage, stepping up and leading us through the deadly maze this country has become, but he has this problem... When things don't go his way, like when he runs out of ammo or feels we didn't rescue him quickly enough from some the "special" infected (especially jockeys, oh GOD do I hate jockeys!), he's blinded by his own frustrations. Back at the mall, when we had to find fuel for the car, I think he might have meant to shoot some of those gas cans! He must also lose sight of the enemy. He can go without getting hurt well enough when he's in good spirits, but when he's upset with everything, well... when it rains, it pours.
Ah, no pun intended with regards to our present situation. I am not looking forward to trekking back through that mess.
"Nick," Coach calls, "are we ready to go?"
"Yeah, we're ready."
I finish writing the last words of my entry, and secure the strap of the machine gun over my shoulder. I look to him and Rochelle. Rochelle is standing by the exit, looking out, and Coach is beside her. On the other side of me, Ellis is still looking my way. He's back in good spirits, as though we're not about to run head-first back into that witch-infested field. He shifts off of the tabletop, but still seems fixed on something near me. I look down at the makeshift journal, then back to Ellis, and snap the book shut with a scowl.
He smiles a broad, knowing smile, and opens the safe house exit.
Author's Notes
This was originally going to be a blog - a rant about how my brother, who plays as Ellis, gets when he's frustrated. 8D
The site ate my spacing for the shift from journal to actual events and back, but full line breaks are too strong. Sorry for any confusion it's caused. And please forgive the present tense and characterization. Particularly Ellis. Although Ellis strikes me as over-eager and curious, maybe reckless, he does not seem devilish. Nick, on the other hand, does strike me as the type to have an address book and expensive pen on hand at all times. And since his girlfriends are now infected, he would find another use for the book.
Feedback is appreciated, but certainly not necessary. Thank you for reading!