Far away, I heard the engine wind down and finally cease. I was slipping out of consciousness, my body weak with sickness. Despite my attempts to focus on the past, my thoughts remained blanked.

I sensed we had arrived in a town, and noted the mountains surrounding my location. There was the clatter of busy townspeople, and the chatter of townsfolk coming and going. The man stepped out of the truck once the car was off. I expected to see his face at any moment, but was surprised to hear his fading footsteps.

"Rorsche!" someone called. A second set of footsteps followed. "Find what you were looking for?"

"Nah, nothin'," the man – evidently, 'Rorsche' – responded. "I'm telling ya, there ain't nothin' in those caves. I don't care how the Lifestream burst out and mangled-up those mountains. Nothin' but squat, if you ask me."

My ears perked at the word of 'Lifestream.' A cooling, ethereal sensation flowed around me, but it faded before I could properly understand it. The conversation with the two men continued, the rest of their words meaningless with empty babble. I was too aware of my own self to care. As the truck traveled, I had not comprehended the extent of illness I suffered. Yet while I remained still, my body quivered. My cloth sheath stuck to certain areas of my arms, legs, and chest, prodding my pain further. Each spot was darkly marked with fluid stains; each passing minute, the stains grew larger with seeping moisture.

Approaching footsteps distracted me momentarily. A different man – Rorsche's conversation partner, most likely – appeared, and abruptly pulled the backing off the truck. The sight of me took him by surprise; he yelped out of shock.

"What the hell, Rorsche!" he bellowed, dropping the back of the truck with a clunk. "You hiding bodies now?"

"Not today," was the response. Rorsche made his appearance, looking down at me from the side. "Ya wouldn't let me get a say in edgewise. This kid was by the old reactor." His hand reached over my face, lifting up my sheath to view something I couldn't see. "I think he's been exposed to something tainted. He's definitely got the sickness, real bad from the looks of it. Can't talk or nothin'. Was half dead when I picked 'em up, though."

The other man – 'Adam' – let out a low sigh. I couldn't see his face, but assumed he must have looked relived that his friend wasn't stowing those dead bodies. He then approached the truck once more, taking place opposite of Rorsche. Both men gazed down at my figure. There was nothing I could do except wait for their verdict.

Adam frowned, his face suddenly dubious. "I thought they knocked it out last year – the sickness, I mean." He, too, yanked at my humble clothing, studying my flesh beneath. "But that's it, no doubt." The younger man hopped over the side of the truck, appearing directly above me. His arms wrapped my frame, lifting my body from the truck's surface. The physical contact left me in intense agony, but I could only release a feeble moan.

Adam noticed this as we headed into the town. His doubt had faded as we left the truck behind. "I know how it hurts, pal. We'll get you something to take care of it."

The pain in my body swelled as I was carried, yet I was still aware of eyes examining our odd trio. Rorsche, a larger man, I noticed, trailed behind us like a guard. He politely greeted approaching townsfolk though his face remained solemn. Adam, on the other hand, kept his gaze even as he moved forward. The more people stared, the quicker Adam picked up his pace.

We stopped at a cluster of mountainside cabins. Rorsche stepped ahead and opened the door to a humble residence.

"Put 'em on the couch," came the terse command. Adam did so without a word. The release of Adam's arms somewhat eased the tension of my body, but regardless I felt like knives were plunging into my skin.

Rorsche disappeared into another room, leaving Adam staring at me from above. His eyes moved up and down my figure. His hands, I noticed, were stained from carrying me.

"You've been sick for long?" he asked. His question wasn't defensive, merely curious.

Not knowing the answer, I could only shake my head.

Rorsche came back, carrying a vile of green substance and a glass of water. "Ya got some luck, kid," he said at me. "I've been holdin' out on these supplements since we've got 'em last year – in case we needed 'em, ya know?" He popped the tab off the container and poured a few drops into the water – it glowed menacingly, then faded to a bright green. "This'll make ya feel like yourself again – takes the pain away, stops the oozin'." He knelt down next to my side and picked my head up. "Drink."

I parted my lips as the man tipped the liquid down. Oddly, I was reminded of the cooling flow of energy I had felt back in the truck – when I had heard the word, "Lifestream." I picked my head up and tried to signal the need for more.

"Don't bother," said Adam, noticing my attempted actions. "It takes about a half hour for that stuff to kick in. Just hang tight until you feel relief."

"Yeah. Don't want to drink this stuff raw," agreed Rorsche. "It'll kill ya, although I'm sure that's better than what ya feelin' now."

Rorsche stood, pointing to an unseen room. "When ya feel up to it, go make yourself a hot shower. It'll do ya a world of good – dries up the sores and everything, especially with that crap ya got in ya now." He and Adam began approaching the door. "We've got some stuff to settle in town, but we'll be back in a few hours, at most." As he headed out the door, he continued, "Make yourself at home, kid!"

Adam lingered for just a moment longer, observing the site of me in the empty room. He then tipped his cap and turned, following Rorsche and leaving me behind.

The medication set in after a few minutes, finally easing my bodily pain. My mind slowed, and I was swallowed by an unconscious sensation.

Somewhere in my mind, I knew I was sleeping. I recalled this was something unusual; apparently, in my past life, sleep was useless. This new realm was odd to me. I was amazed that I could be somewhere new in my head, yet my body remained physically inactive.

My feet were on solid ground; I continued to walk through the bleak darkness. A knot formed in the depths of my being. Abandonment – the exact emotion I felt when I was thrust to the surface – grew with each passing footstep. My breath quicken as I moved faster; I was searching.

Yes. I was searching for something. I was desperate to find it.

A mental wall forced me to stop moving. Then, panic. Someone was watching me. Surrounded by darkness, I felt the confinement of a malevolent energy.

The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. I smelled blood, and decay, and fire, and was crushed by a hopeless feeling of nonexistence.

I wanted to cry - scream - jump – run – wail – laugh – fight – go – rip – kill -

Shaking, I sank to the floor and cowered. My mind flew in all directions, shattering my thoughts like broken glass. I whimpered, wanting nothing more than to flee and fight back all at once.

But it had found me. It spotted me in my weak state and stalked me. I felt it approach from behind – a predator plotting to ambush its prey.

"Pitiful," it echoed. It had no physical voice, but it was a manifestation of sounds in my brain. Each syllable tore my mind to shreds. I clutched my head, begging for release of the spirit. "You are nothing compared to what I have been…your existence mocks me…"

Hands were clutching my face. I gritted my teeth, finally succumbing to fear, and squeezed my eyes shut. "Please," I pleaded, afraid to look at it in the face, "please…"

"Human weakness," it resonated. "You deserve to walk on the physical earth as a human. I show no mercy for what I have done to your body and spirit…you will be useless soon enough. You will serve me, puppet."

I screamed and clawed at the hands that bound me. I would fight.

I WOULD FIGHT.

I WILL FIGHT YOU.

I shot up, awake and aware. There was nothing in this space. I was alone.

My eyes stung as hot tears trailed down my face.