Chapter Seven
I Don't Need Anymore Friends, Collective Soul"Hold still," Reed said, unwrapping Kurt's hand. Kurt gasped, jerking away. "Kurt."
"Please don't touch it." Kurt held his hand to his chest, that was wrapped in a bloodstained piece of cloth that looked like part of a curtain. Reed rolled his eyes and pulled Kurt's hand back to him. As he finished unwrapping it, he scrubbed it with a sterile wipe. "Stop!" Kurt hissed, pulling his hand back. "I can take care of it myself."
"Let me see it," Reed ordered. Blaine looked up with a smile from the card game that he and Shane were playing. "Kurt stop. You're acting like a two year old getting a shot."
"The two year old is sensible. Why would you do something that causes pa-AIN!" Kurt gasped as Reed took his hand again.
"You still have the head of the arrow in your hand," Reed muttered. "Hold still, I need to get it out before it festers."
"No, no, please don't! I like it-" Kurt broke off, closing his eyes as Reed ripped the leftover part of the arrow from his hand.
"See it wasn't that bad," Reed muttered, cleaning Kurt's hand. Kurt's jaw was clenched and his eyes were closed. Reed wrapped Kurt's hand and started cleaning up everything. "Now you and Blaine match."
Blaine glanced at his hand that now only had dirt caked, peeling, sticky leaving band aids on it. In a way he matched Kurt. He looked back at Kurt who had positioned himself at the window.
"Blaine," Shane said, tired of Blaine's slowness in playing the game.
Blaine looked down and flipped over a card. "Kurt?" he asked as a new game was started and Reed was dealt in. Kurt turned back.
"Yeah?" he asked, his hand playing with the collar of his shirt.
"Do you want to play with us?"
"What is it?"
"Egyptian Rat Screw," Shane replied.
"Sure," Kurt answered with a smile. He sat down beside Blaine and took his hand of cards.
This was a small moment in the dark where a light was seen. This small sanctuary in a tossing sea. This was the place where a one hope was present, and laughing was heard. It was where each of the tributes could be themselves without being afraid of being caught. This small game made their hearts light and their minds clear. This was the one night they were able to forget everything that had happened. All of the deaths and the pain. It was all gone.
David caught the small, white parachute that fell down beside him. He looked over the note, without much thought at what the words actually said. He was more eager to get to the burn ointment that was in the package.
Surprisingly the only thing that had gotten burnt was his arm. He shook the can and sprayed the liquid onto his burn. The pain was automatically gone, and the liquid began to bubble. He let it sit until it was dry and then started on his way. He knew that this was more of a pain killer than a healer, but he was still grateful for it.
He took the long way as to avoid Karofsky and his small camp.
Karofsky had taken off, so he could get further away from the supplies. He had set the whole thing on fire. The less everyone else had the better off he would be. He had taken the best for him. He had the food, the water and the weapons. Now he just had to get through the nights. He wouldn't have anything to scare off the zombies, but that didn't truly bother him.
He stopped beside a small fire that was just burning out. This had to be the larger fire from earlier. Actually, it was the hotel that Kurt had brunt. It was finally reaching the final stages of the dying. It was all ashes by now. There were footprints in the black soot, and a smile crept to Karofsky's face. He started after the footsteps. There were two different tracks. Two the kill. Hit two birds with one stone.
Evan held the cloth to Ethan's stomach, where he had been stabbed. It was bleeding profoundly, and the twin was unable to stop it. Ethan's face was pale white and his eyes deep set. His breathing was light and it scared Evan.
"Ethan, don't fall asleep," Evan muttered, his hands slick in the blood. Ethan's eyes were closed and his breathing was slowing. "Ethan!"
"I'm awake," Ethan whispered. "Just keep pressure to it."
"It won't stop!" Evan was losing his composure very quickly. "I-I-I can't-I can't make it st-stop!" His wrists went to his head, in an attempt to not get all bloody.
"I told you, just keep the pressure on it," his brother instructed. "Please, just listen to me. I was the one who took of the medical classes in school."
"I was busy in hand to hand combat," Evan muttered.
"Listen to me, Evan. Take the shirt and press down on the wound. Then wrap it, alright?"
Evan slowly did as he was told, and sat back, as Ethan's eyes closed. Evan closed his eyes, waiting for the sound of a cannon, signalling the death of his brother, but none came. Evan lied beside his brother, within the puddle of blood, not wanting to leave his twin.
"You'll reach the end, I'll make sure of it," Evan whispered, taking Ethan's hand in his own. "I love you, bro."
Logan sat beside the fire, dosing off every once in awhile, only to wake to the sounds around him. There were moans, from what, he wasn't sure, but they must have been staying at bay because of the flames. Eventually, Logan's head fell and sleep finally took him.
A figure stepped through the darkness, quietly stepping up to Julian, who was asleep on the other side of the fire. The figure knelt and tied up Julian, gagging him. His eyes opened and a worried shock shot through him, and into his heart, making it beat. He struggled, trying to scream through the gag. Logan only stayed asleep. He didn't hear anything, being so lost in the only safe place he had at the moment, his mind.
The figure dragged Julian out into the surrounding darkness and into the maze of buildings, to the center of the town.
Kurt slowly got onto the window sill, looking outside. He had ignored his mother's warning to retire to his room for the night. The eight year old boy's eyes filled with horror at the sight of all of the fires that covered the forest that he and his mother were in.
The front door slammed open and Kurt jumped, as did his heart. His mother was backed into the house, a gun aimed at her head. Kurt slowly stood, as her eyes met his. He moved back to the stairs.
"Tell me," the man with the gun ordered. The man had black hair and scruffles that covered a good portion of his face. His eyes were a piercing blue, dry ice, liquid nitrogen cold. Kurt's body drained of all heat at his eyes. That was the thing that he would always remember. Those eyes.
"Tell you what?" Kurt's mother asked.
"That's him."
Kurt stopped, his hand on the stair banister. His eyes grew wide in fear. His heart pounded through his shirt.
"You'll kill me before you kill my son," Kurt's mother said, drawing the man's attention back to her.
"He's the that's been messing with all of the electrical panels."
"He wouldn't have to if this war hadn't started."
"Let me remind you," -the man swiftly took a shot and Kurt stumbled back and into the stairs. Kurt's hand left his stomach, and he grew dizzy at the red blood that covered his hand- "you and the rest of these towns started the revolution, not me. I'm just here to clean up."
"Kurt, leave. Get out of here," his mother ordered, pain on her face at how her son was hurt. "Kurt, go find our safe spot and stay there until the end of the games.."
Kurt slowly stood, his hand holding to his stomach. He raced for the door and ran through it. Once on the porch, he turned back. There was a crack and the windows rattled. Kurt's eyes grew in size as his mother's body fell to the ground.
The man turned and fired another shot at Kurt. It hit the ground beside his feet, and made him jump. As Kurt turned and ran, more discharges sounded and were hitting the ground, and surrounding buildings around Kurt.
"Dad!" Kurt yelled as he ran. "Dad!"
Laughing followed Kurt. Kurt stopped and turned back to see his house catch fire, and the blue eyes breaking through the smoke.
Kurt jumped up right, breathing deeply. He looked around, his hand going to his stomach. A sharp pain was filling his insides and he pulled off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt. His hand rested on the scar of the bullet, and he sighed. No blood, no bullet. He was alright, it was a dream. He rested back on the ground and released a deep breath, the pain leaving.
The fire danced and Kurt couldn't help but stare at it. His eyes slowly slid shut, due to sleep, and in his mind's eye, a picture of his house flashed. He jumped, making sure he kept his eyes open. He wasn't able to sleep the rest of the night.
Julian watched Karofsky with careful eyes. "Where did you find the guns?" Julian asked for the upteennth time. Karofsky didn't reply. "Why won't you kill me?" Julian asked. Again he was ignored.
Julian struggled against the ropes that bound him to the tall and narrow lamppost. A riffle was placed against his chest, ready to be fired in a moments notice. Julian sighed and looked at his feet.
"I can't imagine what's going through Julian's head at the moment," Lintz said, to the TV, where he was narrating the whole game. "And it seems that David Karofsky is just waiting..." Lintz was silent for a moment. "Julian's the bait. Let's see what Logan is doing and see if he's fallen for it."
Logan sat up, the ashes from the fire, covering his face as a wind blew. He looked around and stood. "Julian?" he asked, stepping around the ambers. "Julian!" Logan snatched up his bag and raced into the street. "Julian! Jul-"
Logan rolled across the street, his bag, stabbing against his back. A net encased him.
"You're dead, Wright," a voice laughed. Logan struggled in the net, as one of the twins stepped up to it. Logan grabbed his bag and opened it, trying to find the knife.
"Did you sleep?" Blaine asked, sitting up. Kurt shook his head. He turned and woke Reed and Shane. "What have you been doing all night?" Blaine stood.
"I've been thinking. Those clues. You said that you thought the twelve extras was a mental trick, but it was real," Kurt said, passing out a fruit bar to each of them, from the back pack.
"And?" Shane asked, rubbing his eyes with a deep inhale.
"What if they're all literal, like that one," Kurt suggested.
"What are you implying?" Reed asked, resting against Shane, and closing his eyes on the edge of sleep.
"We need to get to the middle of the game," Kurt answered, stomping out the rest of the fire.
Blaine choked and Kurt turned to look at him questioningly. "The center? Wouldn't we have to cross the rest of the tributes, not to mention the zombies?"
"You're point?" Kurt asked.
"Flash check, but I don't want to die," Blaine said harshly. "And I don't know how you feel, but-"
"Someone may beat me, but they're going to have to bleed to do it," Kurt interrupted.
"And I'm guessing that you didn't say that," Shane said, shaking Reed awake, again.
"No, that was Steve Prefontaine," Kurt nodded. "Everyone up. We've got to start moving."
"Answer me this," Blaine said, getting up in Kurt's face. "Which way do you suggest we go?"
"North," Kurt replied. "We've been traveling south."
"And how do you know that?"
"Because here, the sun sets backwards."
"And how-"
"I've lived on the street for the last ten years. I know my bearings." Kurt's voice was bitter. Blaine's eyes were cold, but he backed down, at the mention of Kurt's past. Kurt stepped back, and turned. "Let's go." Blaine and Shane started in the direction that Kurt motioned to and that's when Kurt fell to his knees. Reed stepped over.
"You need rest," Reed whispered.
"No," Kurt muttered. "It was his eyes."
"What about them?" Reed asked, kneeling beside Kurt.
"They were cold... cold like his."
"His? Who's his?" Reed's eyebrows furrowed.
"You two coming or what?" Shane called back.
"Yeah!" Reed replied. He took Kurt's hand. "I'll take the first watch tonight. You need the rest."
"You couldn't save-"
"Then my shrill girlish screams will wake you," Reed teased.
They started down the street after the other two who had gained a large advantage on them. Kurt stopped, and Reed turned back to face him. Kurt looked around, his eyebrows furrowed.
"Kurt-"
Kurt put a hand over Reed's mouth. "Your future depends on whether or not you finish that sentence, or if you listen to me," Kurt whispered. "Do exactly what I say, alright?" Reed nodded, and Kurt released his hand. "I need you to go over to that building, there." Kurt pointed across the street. "When you get there wait for my signal, and open the door. As soon as you do, duck, and cover your head. If you do, I promise you will live."
Reed looked over Kurt with wide eyes. "You-"
"Reed, if you want to live, and keep Shane alive, then you will do as I say."
Reed gave one nod, and darted across the street. He rested a hand on the door, and looked back to Kurt, who held another door. Kurt's eyes were down the street, but Reed couldn't see anything. What was Kurt seeing that Reed couldn't?
Kurt's eyes held their position, as footsteps became even more clear. There were several pairs. More than two. So it couldn't be the twins. It had to be them... all the living dead. They just had to wait for the right moment.
Slowly the dead came into view. It was a wave of them. Hundreds... As they came closer, Reed couldn't help but give a small scream. Kurt, we're dead. WE'RE DEAD! Reed's head yelled.
"Now, Reed!" Kurt finally yelled.
Reed pushed open the door, and fell to the ground to cover his head. There was an everlasting crackle as both buildings erupted and became nothing more than dust and falling debris. Reed's ears were ringing, as he felt all of the rocks and everything else fall over him.
There was a jolt of pain in his legs and he winced. Things fell silent and Reed didn't dare move. Kurt sat up, and pushed the 2x4 off of him. Kurt scrambled to his feet, and raced into the street, where bodies lay strune.
"Reed!" he called. "Reed!"
"He-re," some coughing answered.
Kurt raced over and pushed some piping and other things off of Reed. Kurt pulled Reed to his feet, and helped dusting him off. "Are you alright?" Kurt asked.
"I'm fine. My leg kinda hurts though," Reed replied. "I don't think it will be anything."
"Alright."
"Hey!" a voice yelled. "Are you two alright?!" It was Blaine.
"Fine!" called back.
Shane was in a mad dash over to them. When he reached them, he pulled Reed into a bear hug. "Kurt, if he has one scratch, I swear-"
"What?" Kurt asked. "What was that about saving lives? I don't believe you have room to speak."
Shane gave Kurt a sharp look, but just turned his attention back to Reed. "Are you alright? What did he do-"
"I'm fine," Reed laughed, pushing Shane's hands from his face. "Really. I'm ok."
"That didn't kill all of them," Kurt muttered. "Let's get going." The three of them broke into a run back to where Blaine waited. In the corner of his eye, Kurt could see one of the dead just down the street. That's-no. No it can't be. Kurt thought. I saw it. It can't be.