Notes: So here's chapter two.

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Living in the Past, Chapter Two

Blind

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Chris had ran for God-knows-how-long before finally coming to a stop to catch his breath. As he heaved for air, he remembered traversing through a sewer before, though at that time he had light and Piers was with him. Piers had an upset face that day, too, now that he thought about it. But why had he made that face?

A voice at the back of his mind stated that rejection was the case. But if that were so, what had Piers said that Chris rejected? And what exactly had it been to cause Piers' face to contort to the point where Chris thought the man would cry?

i'He liked you,'/i the voice in Chris' mind answered.

"Like that?" he asked aloud, but too loudly for his liking. Chris quite possibly gave away his position right then and there. He was proven right (or perhaps it was a coincidence) when he heard shouts that were too close for comfort.

Stopping for air had been a bad idea.

He was about to start running again, but bright light shone around the corner and stunned him momentarily. Once he regained his composure, however, he turned to speed away from the police, but one of them went after him and tackled him to the ground. For a brief moment, he hoped his face didn't land on anything exceptionally gross.

Though now he had to figure out how to get free from the officer's grip.

He attempted to do the most natural of defenses first: to struggle. It was stupid of him to do, but at least it kept the officer from cuffing him.

So he had to come up with some brilliant plan, and quickly.

His second defense was to arch his back and throw the officer off of him. Surprisingly, Chris succeeded at this. But then again, he was also more built than Chinese officers were.

He made it to his feet in an instant, then, and ran, again, from the small group of officers.

Of course, though, with Chris' horrid luck, he was shot in the shoulder before he could make it very far. He had been shot or shot at thousands of times prior to his visit to China, so a single bullet didn't phase him, but it hurt like fucking hell. He wondered, briefly, if the bullets Chinese officers used were now coated in a layer of poison. Probably not, but he had a right to be paranoid about it.

Though this now meant he'd have to hurry up and find some medical aid.

But where was a way out? He had no flashlight, so that made finding a ladder almost impossible.

Chris didn't want to stretch his arm out and brush his fingers along the wall until flesh came in contact with metal, but he had no other choice.

Bringing his arm up, he winced at the pain that shot through his muscles. That damn officer had shot Chris in the right shoulder – Piers had lost his right arm, he remembered.

Chris turned several corners in his attempt to evade the officers (which he accomplished), and despite the dulled pain at the back of his head and the throbbing, burning pain in his shoulder, he felt pretty great. Successfully running away from law enforcement was difficult in the States, he knew, but he had a feeling it was harder in China. After all, police didn't follow you into the sewers unless they were serious about bringing you in. Or killing you. But maybe Chinese law enforcement was skeptical about foreigners ever since the bioterrorism attack on the country two years ago. Either way, Chris had a feeling the rule now changed to "Kill suspicious individuals on site."

He wasn't suspicious, but then again, he ran away after beating a guy up in self-defense.

His wrist gently hit metal, then, and he grabbed at the source, realizing it was part of a ladder. Making a sound of joy and relief, he made his way up the ladder, his boots clinking softly on the metal rungs.

The road he saw when he pushed the manhole cover out of the way was completely deserted. Not even a gentle wind blew the bits and pieces of junk littering the street. This bothered Chris, but at the same time, it made him feel better knowing that now he wouldn't get mugged by a stranger.

So he began down the empty road, but quickly jogged back to the manhole cover to replace it. This would prevent the officers from knowing where he went, hopefully.

Now, this time, he did walk down the empty road. He'd have to find medical aid, though, but he didn't know if he could.

Chris would walk until he died, or passed out, or found a clinic of some sort.

He'd have to staunch the bleeding, though. So he unzipped the casual jacket he wore, removed the t-shirt underneath, and ripped off a part of the tank below the t-shirt. He wrapped the make-shift bandage tightly around the wound on his shoulder, and replaced the clothing he had stripped off.

He probably walked for an hour before he stumbled, and hit the wall with his right shoulder. He slid down the dirty wall and sat on the dusty ground.

Taking a nap wouldn't hurt...so his eyes fluttered shut and he dozed off.

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Chris jolted upright and flew his eyes open at the loud sound of something metallic hitting the floor. He shut his eyes tightly, though, as bright sunlight shone into his face. He groaned as he let his head fall back onto the pillow.

"I'm sorry I woke you," a soft, feminine voice spoke.

"Where am I?" he asked.

"Oh, nowhere important. But you're safe, and that's all you should be concerned with, hun," the voice was closer now, and a warm hand brushed the top of his head. "You were in pretty bad shape when I brought you here – it took me a few hours to remove the bullet from your shoulder." The hand moved down to his right shoulder, and gently probed at the freshly bandaged wound.

Chris hissed in pain at this, and slapped the hand away. "Yeah? And you're only gonna fucking make it worse," he removed his arm from in front of his face, and glared at the woman. "Who are you?"

"I'm no one important," she responded. "But remember that I saved your life, and you should be grateful. I didn't have to drag you back here."

Chris took a moment to look over the visage of the woman. She appeared to be in her 40's, and of European descent. "You don't look Chinese, though, so what're you doing out here?"

"I could ask the same thing," she paused. "I've lived in China since before the bioterrorist attack a couple years ago. But I had been in another city – far away from here – during the dilemma. So no, I'm not infected."

"I – Thank you for helping me," Chris huffed, but figured the woman was safe enough.

"So why are you out here, hun?"

"I'm revisiting old memories," he directed his gaze toward the window closest to him. "I'm a soldier, you know. Of the BSAA."

"The BSAA, you say?" the woman's eyes widened at the statement, but she did nothing else. "I had thought all of you died during the attack. You're the only survivor, I take it?"

Chris closed his eyes to hold back the tears that began to form. He thought back to that last scene of Piers. He couldn't forget that look of sadness he saw in Piers' eye, the knit of his brow, the frown on his face. He figured that if he had treated Piers just a little bit better, he would have climbed into that escape pod with him. He figured that if he were a real captain, none of this would have happened. He'd be sitting in an office, retired from fieldwork, all of his men still alive. But they'd be guided by Piers during missions.

Breathing deeply, Chris finally answered the woman with a nod. "Yes. The only one."

"I see," she spoke quietly.

Silence ensued, then, and Chris felt tired, even though he had just woken up. But all he wanted to do was get back on his feet and continue the walk he had started the day before. "Hey, how long before I can leave?"

The woman had to think about the answer. "I'm not sure... Three days, maybe?"

"I want to leave now."

"You can't do that, hun, you need to let your body heal. You can leave once I say. But I have a feeling you'll leave tonight, once I'm asleep," she paused, and the corners of her lips tipped up into a little grin. "I can't stop you, though, so you can leave whenever you want. I want you to leave with some medical supplies, though – this part isn't very nice. It seems abandoned, but it's not. Hidden evils lurk behind every wall, inside every building. You only have a knife on you, I noticed, but you'll need guns."

"What do you mean by 'hidden evils?' Are there still J'avo here? There can't be, though, China was purged of the C-virus two years ago," Chris had sat up, then.

He watched the woman shake her head. "No, no, there aren't any J'avo, as you call them. Just evil men. Crazy men. One even claimed he had electrical powers."

"Electrical pow – what did the man look like?" Chris questioned.

"I'm not sure. I talked to him in the dark, when he came to me for medical supplies. He didn't want me to check him over, he only wanted bandages. And he refused to show me his face," she was calm as she spoke. "He hasn't showed up since then, so I'm not sure if he's close by.

"But he did say he'd electrocute me, with his 'powers,' if I didn't give him the supplies he wanted. He asked for a couple guns, too."

"How long ago was this?"

"Half a year ago, I think."

Chris immediately swung his feet over the bed and searched for his shoes. "Where are my... Could you collect all my things for me and bring them here? Please?" he wasn't in the mood to search for his boots, or the rest of his clothing. "I need to leave, now."

"...All right," the woman stood and left the room, returning minutes later with Chris' boots, and new clothing. "Change into these – they should fit you – while I gather medical supplies and some weapons." She left the things on the edge of the bed and removed herself from the room again.

Chris grabbed the first article of clothing in the pile, and unfolded it. It was a clean, white tank top, that he pulled over his bare chest moments after. The next piece of clothing was a thin white thermal sweater, and a general white t-shirt was after that. He moved the dark gray jacket in the pile off of the dark blue jeans, and he pulled said jeans up his legs after he stood, and did up the zipper and button.

He sat back down, set one foot on the chair the woman had occupied, and pulled on one boot, and then the other, and laced the laces after.

He waited a few minutes for the woman, and observed the surroundings of the cozy little room until then. On the wall behind him, there was a lit fireplace, and two chairs that looked comfortably cushioned sat on either side of the fireplace. To his left was the window, with a white lace curtain covering it, but to no avail. To his right was a bare wall, save for a small clock and a few pictures that could have possibly been relatives of the woman. Ahead of him was the door the woman had exited earlier, and as he looked at the door, the woman passed through.

She walked over to him, and set the medical supplies, guns, ammo, ammo belts, and a vest to hold even more ammo down next to the remaining piece of clothing. "This should be fine," she sat down on the chair beside the bed. "If you need anything else, just let me know. However, food is something I cannot provide, and I apologize for that."

Chris stood again, grabbing the jacket and adding it to the ensemble of clothing he already wore, then putting the vest on, and pulled the ammo belts over his head to adjust them around his chest and shoulders, being careful with his right shoulder. He looped a belt equipped with gun holsters around his waist, and placed the pistols inside of the holsters. The assault rifle the woman provided was strapped to his back next by a soft leather band, and he figured he was good to go after he checked all the little pockets of the vest to see which ammo was in which pocket.

"Thank you," he spoke, after having pulled the satchel of medical supplies over his head, and adjusting that as well.

"Of course. It was no problem," she smiled at him, and led him to the front door of her home. Once there, she hugged him. "You be safe now, all right?"

Chris nodded to her, a smile on his face. "I'll try, but I can't guarantee anything," he obviously had a habit of getting injured. "But thank you, again." He saluted her, then, and made his way down the street.

He had felt hopeful when the woman talked about the man with 'powers' involving electricity. The description had fit Piers, and Chris felt that if he searched long and hard, he'd find him. He wasn't sure what condition the man would be in, but if he found him, he wouldn't let him go.

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Notes: I'm sure all of you will be excited for chapter three.