Eric had the strangest dream. Off in the distance, Eric could see a crowd of people gathered under the only streetlight. The light was inadequate to identify any of the forms. Curious, he felt a longing to run and meet the people.
But, no matter how hard he made his legs work, he didn't seem to gain any distance. The crowd never got any closer. Desperate, Eric cried out, "Help me!"
At this, the every head in the crowd snapped to his direction. Eric gasped in surprise. He could see every individual clearly now, and wished he couldn't. Five pairs of glowing eyes peered into Eric, and five blood-stained mouths opened in a single, spine-tingling scream.
Eric now tried his hardest to escape the creatures, running the opposite way. But just as before, he never gained any distance. A black abyss surrounded him, and the five creatures dominated his vision. The hell-bent creatures scattered and rushed towards him, ready to kill.
Eric opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. As the the figures scattered and escaped from his vision, the streetlight shone upon the clear reason for the crowd's gathering. Laying flat on the pavement, stiff as a board, was a lifeless version of Eric.
"SWEET MOTHER OF GOD!" Eric screamed at the top of his lungs. A vicious pain tore at his ankle, wrenching him from his fitful slumber.
The pain in his ankle was worse than getting shot , it that it wasn't quick or sharp. This was a grinding and splintering pain. Eric imagined it felt close to what stabbing himself with an electric drill would feel like. Immediately, he made to pull his whole leg closer to his body, as if he could escape the pain somehow. However, his leg met firm resistance, as if some kind of restraint was stopping him from doing so. Eric thrashed around spasmodically, attempting to free himself.
"Jesus kid, suck it up. I gotta get the bullet out." Eric heard the voice, but his mind refused to comprehend it. The pain overwhelmed his mind, and he tried to do anything possible to escape it.
"Damn it! Rochelle, get over here and hold him down for me." The presence of another set of hands became known. Securing his upper torso firmly, the hold was familiar and friendly, but also unyielding. He was strapped in for good.
The pain returned. The grinding, stabbing pain ripped at his ankle and rippled in waves up his leg. Just when Eric could take no more and was about to scream to the heavens, the pain stopped, only to be replaced by a dull throbbing. The throbbing pain was a reminder of what Eric had endured only seconds ago, but its presence wasn't comforting, no. It was rather like an eerie silence in the night, foreboding of things to come.
"Open your eyes, son." A harsh, commanding, yet friendly voice spoke to Eric. And so Eric obeyed. And what a sight he saw.
A tired looking man wearing a white, blood-stained suit was holding a miniscule piece of metal in between his finger and thumb, and looking quite put off. Eric felt his brows knit together in confusion, what the hell was that?
The man sighed and gestured, holding the metal out to him. "Small huh? This is what you were screaming like a girl about. This is the bullet that was lodged in your ankle."
The man looked past Eric and nodded at someone. "Let him go Rochelle, he'll be fine for now." With that, the tired man sat down on a bench next to him and made to drop the bullet in a pan when suddenly, the whole room lurched sideways. The man toppled off the benchl and cursed wildly. Fearing for his life, Eric sat up abruptly, confused as ever.
"God damn pilot." The man, now recovered, standing up, "Somebody needs to tell him how to drive a helicopter."
Helicopter. That's where he was. A sudden sense of urgency enveloped Eric, he didn't quite know what, but he had to do something.
Eric made a sudden movement, and made to stand, or at least roll off of the gurney he had been placed on. A large, kind hand placed its firm grip on his shoulder.
"Easy there, boy. No need to hurt yourself. We're all here. You're safe now." Eric craned his neck around to look at the new voice. It came from a large, dark-skinned bald man, with a creased, yet kind face. Just being around this man made Eric feel more at ease.
For the first time since regaining consciousness, Eric decided to make a sounded that wasn't a scream, "Who are all of you?"
Yet another new voice greeted Eric, "Well, we here 'a been wonderin' the same thang." Eric snapped his head to meet the newest speaker, and was met with the face of a southern redneck, with a clean shaven face and wearing a baseball cap. The man was smiling ear-to-ear and seemed to Eric very young.
"We know you have questions, hell anyone would, but we'll ask ours first, if you don't mind." The man in the white suit spoke this time. With a nod of his head, the big man's hand left Eric's shoulder, and someone walked past Eric's head and his other side. The big man and a dark-skinned female both sat on the opposite side of the room, on a similar bench as to the one Eric had his gurney on.
After a quick comb of his fingers through his hair, the man in the white leaned forward and clasped his hands together, his face a blank mask. He wasn't giving anything away. The other three had similar looks of seriousness etched onto their faces, although with less intensity.
"Let's start with a simple question to get the ball rolling." It appeared the man in white was going to do most of the talking. "What is your name?"
Eric wondered why he was seemingly being treated with such hostility, but decided he would be honest with these strangers. After all, they were probably armed and good quite easily overpower him if he somehow angered them "My name is Eric."
The man in white closed his eyes and nodded, seemingly pleased. "Good, now, can you tell me why I found a .44 caliber bullet in your ankle? The infected can use guns, we know that much, so another survivor shot you. Care to tell me why?"
Eric's confusion vanished at this, he even broke out into a smile, he couldn't help himself. They're afraid of me. The four people looked surprised at first at his smile, then cautious, fearful of his sanity. Eric quickly sobered himself and spoke to remedy the situation. "I assure you I mean you no harm. The two men I was traveling with decided to leave me behind and take the rescue for themselves. When I tried to run, they shot me."
At this last statement, the southerner broke out into a series of jubilant cheers and whoops, "I told yall! We ain't got nothin' ta fear from this guy! He's alright!!!" The man in white and the big man both dawned scowls at their companions seemingly unexpected outburst.
As no surprise to Eric, the man in white spoke up first "For Christ's sake Ellis, that doesn't mean anything, he could be lying." The southerner stopped his victory chant and sat back down, sighing deeply. "Besides," the man in white continued, "He still hasn't explained the witch."
Eric's stomach dropped at this. He couldn't befriend these people, not if Chris's reaction to witches was any standard to go by. It was his turn to sigh now, and his eyes dropped from the four strangers. "I really can't explain it. I saved her life while my group was traveling here. She appeared on the bridge and saved me too, she killed the guy who shot me, and carried me to the helicopter. That's all I can say." Eric sucked in deep breath, waiting for a response.
The man in white exploded, his face a mask of anger and rage, "You expect us to believe that?! You hold up our chopper, you force us to treat you, and to top it all off, you bring a witch on board? What if-" The man in white was cut off by the large dark man, "That's enough Nick, this guy checks out with me."
The man in white looked like he was going to protest but the female, the only one who hadn't spoken yet, decided to at this point, "You heard Coach, Nick, shut up. This guy is probably as scared as I know you are right now." The man in white scowled deeply and abruptly stood up, and waltzed out of the room. His three companions looked like the wanted to go after him, but then turned back to Eric.
"Sorry about that, boy. He just gets like that sometimes." The large man looked at him with such large, kind eyes. The man laughed a hearty laugh before continuing, "Why don't we introduce ourselves, as a start? My friends call me Coach, I reckon y'all can do the same." And so the man called Coach nodded towards the dark female to his left.
The girl smiled nicely and said in a sweet voice, "The name's Rochelle." With that, that left the southerner.
Without pause or hesitation, the young man jumped into the conversation. "My name's Ellis. Some people call me 'El', but I really don't like that 'cause 'El' sounds too much like a girl's name. I guess if you really want you call me El, you can." When he was done, Ellis tipped his hat at Eric.
Coach spoke up again, "The grouch you met earlier is Nick. Don't worry about him son, I'm sure he'll come around." His part said, the man got up, and exited out the same door Nick had earlier. Rochelle stood up quickly and followed him. Eric lowered his eyes. He felt more alone than ever, these people still did not like him.
Ellis, the last person alone with Eric, made to get up as well, but stopped half-way to the door, turning to look at him, lying on his gurney. Suddenly, the southerner slapped his forehead and laughed to himself, "I almos' forget about yer ankle buddy. Nick kinda lef ya' high and dry, didn' bandage it up." Eric looked down and sure enough, his ankle was swollen and an angry red, with a horrific bloody crater gouging his ankle. He was surprised he hadn't noticed his situation sooner, the throbbing pain having subsided into the back recesses of his mind.
Ellis came over to Eric's gurney, taking off a red pack from his back as he did so. Unzipping the case, he pulled out a roll of gauze. "Here, I'll help with that." And so he did, gently wrapping the gauze around his ankle, and tying it off. When he was done, he sat down next to Eric, replacing where Nick had been previously.
"So why do ya think that witch carried ya?" The southerner looked at him with expectancy, as if Eric had all the answers, and could clear everything up.
He answered as truthfully as possible. "I really don't know. I suppose it's because I saved her life..." He trailed off, not knowing how to continue. Looking up at Ellis, the man had a pure look of awe on his face, like a kid in a candy store. Eric truly wondered how someone so innocent had survived the infection.
"You must be real importan' fer her ta do somethin' like that." Eric lowered his eyes again, this man was expecting so much from him already. How terrible it would be when the group found out how useless he really was. "Not really...." He rubbed his arm and shifted his good foot, feeling awkward.
"Hey, hey Eric, I think you should meet someone else." Saving Eric more awkward questions, Coach opened the door, looking in with a sincere look. In his right hand was a standard medical crutch.
"I figured you would need this, seeing as your ankle just got blasted, you probably don't want to put too much weight on it." Eric nodded and accepted help out of his gurney, grateful for the crutch. This helicopter sure was ready for medical emergencies. I wonder what they were expecting to find....
As the group of three, Coach in front, Eric limping behind him, and Ellis (the naturally curious person he was) trailing them both, made it through the doorway, Coach said over his shoulder, "She won't let any of us come here her. We haven't tested the boundaries though, I know too well what happens when you get a witch angry." Coach stopped in the connecting hall way in front of a bathroom door, that had a makeshift lock and chain over the door. He pulled out a key and quickly took off the padlock, backing further down the hall, granting Eric more room. He first steadied himself with his left hand against the wall, and used his right hand to push open the door, grabbing his crutch as a familiar sight greeted him. There, lying on the floor, was the witch.
The bathroom light was on, and the resulting light illuminated the witch's previously unseen features. Predominantly, Eric noticed that her skin had the color of a storm cloud. Dark gray, and hinting at a hidden power beneath. The tattered rags she wore had lost all resemblance to any article of clothing he had seen. Her hair was long and fair, but almost deathly white. Overall, she looked like she would break if she tried to move. Her apparent frailty was saddening, because Eric could see definite hints of the beauty she probably once held.
Hearing the door being swung open, the witch looked up from the hands she had been crying in, growling loudly. Then Eric saw the feature that defined the witch as a monster, her eyes. They were blood red and pierced into him, paralyzing him. And for a brief moment, Eric felt the same fear Chris had, that Coach did, that everyone did. He would get this witch angry, and she would attack. He would die. Where could he run, even if he didn't have an injured ankle, he was on a helicopter. Once she was finished with him, she would kill the others. And it was all his fault. Then, a second later, as if noticing him, the witch abruptly stopped growling, and ceased baring her teeth. And Eric's moment was gone, the fear with it. Instead, he was full of questions.
"Why did you save me? Why did you kill Chris? Why did you come back? Why did...." Eric stopped as he heard the witch make a growling sound. As soon as he did, the witch's face tightened in frustration, as if trying to concentrate. The sounds continued, become more coherent with each repetition.
""
"
"
"…..Fffffffff...rrrieeend"
The witch pointed one blood-stained claw at herself and said almost clearly, "Fffr-iend."
"Sure seems like she like's you." Ellis's voice made Eric jumped, and he whipped around (as fast as a crippled person can) to see that in his intense interest in the witch, he had forgotten the man was behind him. Before either could say anything more however, Nick's voice boomed through the cabin.
"PILOT, JUST WHERE THE HELL ARE WE GOING?!?!?"
"Sir, please take a seat, we are going to a base of classified location."
"....... CLASSIFIED?!?!? YOU DO KNOW THIS IS A GOD DAMN-"
"Captain, is that our destination down there?"
There was a pause and the only sound was the two men breathing.
"My God......the base is over run.....It's like an infected army down there...."
"JESUS NO!! …..." now the co-pilot voice shook with fear and uncertainty. "No...I will not let myself go out like this!"
"Get a hold of yourself, soldier! We have enough fuel, we can just change course to-"
"To WHAT , Captain?! That was the last major CEDA base in the continental U.S! There's no where else to run!! I'm not going down as zombie bait!!"
Curses and yelling of a struggle now filled the air, then the horrible tension reached a climax as a thunderous shot rang through the cabin.
Nick's somewhat familiar voiced boomed again, "WHO'S PILOTING THE HELICOPTER?!?!"
Suddenly the helicopter lurched, throwing Eric out into the narrow hallway, losing his crutch in the process. Eric hissed as he landed on his bad ankle.
"I....I can't bring her up!!! We lost too much altitude...Dammit,....Can't get the controls the respond." Silence. "Oh god, his body is pushing on the controls. Help me get him off, quick!!"
Eric heard Ellis whisper something to himself like "Oh, not again." He closed his eyes and concentrated real hard. Hoping to somehow make it out of this alive. How come I always the line of life and death. One of these times I won't be as lucky as before.
Suddenly the world spun out of control, and somewhere a loud screaming deafened his ears. Eric was so disoriented, he didn't even recognize it as his own. Nausea and dizziness took hold, and he was unconscious before he knew it.
A/N : Once again, I'm sorry it took me so long to update, school has been a drag, what with the new semester and all. Hopefully I will try to update sooner.