Chapter 10
Searching for Survivors
"I am tired of fighting.... Hear me, my chiefs. I am tired. My heart is sick and sad. From where the sun now stands, I shall fight no more forever!"
-Chief Joseph, 1877
At the name, the hedgehog and the fox's hearts began to ache. Bret began to explain what happened in the city in better detail than he had originally for Tails.
"Bret, do you think you can go back there and look for survivors?" asked Amy.
Bret turned his head to the girl. He nodded.
"I'll do whatever you guys tell me to do."
"In that case, you need to go home, get your weapons, and look for survivors in the city," said Tails. Bret nodded.
"On it."
He turned to leave, but Tails called out to him again.
"Wait!"
He froze in his tracks.
"Two things: Are you okay to go to the city? You're relying on your right leg. Is your left leg bothering you?"
"A tad, but I can make it," Bret answered in all honesty.
"Okay, now one more thing: Are you hungry? When was the last time you've had a bite to eat, or some time to sleep?"
Bret looked at his watch.
11:59, then to 12:00.
"Uhh...."
He tried to think back. He didn't eat a thing earlier that day, nor the day before.... It had been about two days. (If my D average math skills don't betray me today.)
"2 days ago," he said, looking back up. Amy put a hand to her mouth, and Tails backed up in surprise.
"Sheesh, aren't you hungry?!" asked Tails in surprise. Bret shrugged.
"I never really thought about it..."
"Bret, new plan: Go home, eat, sleep, and then find the survivors," said Amy. Bret shook his head.
"The disease won't wait-"
"And neither will your health!" countered Amy. All was silent for a moment.
"I lost my Sonic already, I'm losing him twice! I can't deal with losing another friend, whether it's you or Tails!"
Bret's eyes widened. 'Friend'? He had never had a friend before, and although he, Amy, and Tails had been through a lot, he considered their relationships more of an 'alliance', a foothold to help him kill the King. Besides that, he doesn't know how to treat a friend. He'd never had a friend before.
"I thought you said you'd do whatever we told you to do."
Bret shut his eyes and nodded.
"I... I did."
"So, do as we tell you now! Eat, sleep, bathe, do whatever you need to. Then go find survivors!" said Amy. Bret nodded.
"I'm on it."
Bret left the room via the window and walked home, silently cursing to himself out of the pain in his leg. When he got home, Shadow was waiting for him.
"How's the leg?" asked Shadow as Bret approached.
"I'm fine. Have you found any other emeralds I should know about?"
Shadow smiled, something that rarely happens. He held up another two emeralds.
"That's four. The other three are in the castle."
Bret nodded.
"I'll get those emeralds tomorrow. Today I have to find survivors, anyone that would fight the King."
Shadow nodded, and handed Bret the emeralds.
"Guard these with your life."
Bret took the emeralds, entered his house, and sealed it off to nourish himself before searching for the survivors.
--
Meanwhile...
--
SLAM!
"WHAAAAAAT?!!? That's impossible! I sent my most elite soldiers to that city, and now you're telling me we lost CONTACT?!!?"
"Your Highness, please calm down...." said a robot, but the King was inconsolable.
"What is going on in there!?!?!!? What happened?!" Eggman yelled.
"Satellites show the city of Westopolis in ruins; the people look sick and aggressive. It's the people attacking your soldiers."
"Why won't they fight back!??"
The robot was silent for a moment, then prepared for the worst.
"They did fight back, your highness."
SLAM!
"Then why didn't they win?" asked the King through clenched teeth.
"Scanners indicate an epidemic enclosed in the city. It appears that whatever it is destroying your troops is confined to Westopolis only. No other parts of the world show signs of such aggression or death."
"But, WHY won't my troops kill these people!?"
"They are outnumbered. Scanners say that these people are consuming your soldiers, and your soldiers that are attacked get up again and consume other people as well."
Eggman slowly turned to face his robot.
"Are you telling me that these people are cannibalizing my troops, and then my troops are doing the same thing?"
"Affirmative."
Eggman sighed.
"Suggested course of action: Send in non-biological troops."
Eggman lit up.
"No, shut up! I have a better idea. I'll send in non-biological troops! Hah! I'm a genius!"
The King turned to an intercom and picked up the walkie talkie.
"All available armed robots to the city of Westopolis. Use lethal force if necessary."
He hung up the walkie talkie, and smiled an evil smile.
"Even if I do lose Westopolis, I still have the rest of the world... and I have three of the emeralds."
He turned his head to the robot.
"Have any more emeralds been located?"
The robot was silent for a moment, then responded.
"Negative."The King nodded.
"I understand. Keep up the search."
--
"Hello? Is there anyone alive out there?"
Bret heard nothing, just the wind howling through the shattered city and the skeletons of the buildings that once stood above it's proud streets. He turned to the pet store, knowing that because the animals were still alive, he had a chance of finding survivors. He opened the door, relieved not to have found any monsters yet, but remaining on his toes nonetheless.
"Hello? Is there anyone alive in here?" he called. The wolf heard something fall in a backroom, and he cautiously lay his back against the wall next to the door. Placing his Desert Eagle in his right hand, Bret opened the door with his left, and watched as several bullets flew through the doorway.
"Hey, knock it off!"
The bullets ceased.
"Is anyone here infected?"
"No, are you?"
"No."
One by one, a group of seven humans and two mobians made themselves visible for Bret.
"Are you loyal to the King, or are you against him?"
The survivors were suspicious.
"How do we know to trust this guy?" asked a male porcupine.
"Because if you couldn't trust me, you'd be dead right now."
"Yeah, I'm loyal to the King," said the male porcupine, scratching his nose. Bret smirked.
"You're a liar."
Guns all pointed at the wolf.
"Relax, I hate the King. In fact, I'm trying to kill him. I wouldn't have told you that and risked talking to a few loyalists, but I see that you don't have a lot of ammunition to spare, and why waste it, right?"
One by one, the guns lowered.
"We don't like Eggman."
"Do you guys want to bring him down?"
A murmur echoed among the crowd, and one by one people responded in the affirmative.
"We're going to take him down. If you guys know of any other survivors, I'd appreciate it if you told me where they were."
"We know where to find another group, but we're going with you."
Bret nodded.
"Is this other group for or against the King?"
"Against," responded the group simultaneously. Bret nodded. The group headed out the door, and a few creatures were seen limping about. The group readied their weapons, but Bret waved them down.
"Save your ammo. They don't seem to be able to move very fast. Just run past them."
Bret eyed the monsters suspiciously.
"Wait a minute..." he mumbled. One of the "monsters" was nowhere near the others. It was a mobian parrot, and while it limped like a monster and acted like a monster, it had no injuries. Bret saw through the ruse, and approached the mobian. He knew the parrot wasn't infected when he approached and wasn't attacked. He grabbed the parrot and kicked it's legs out from under it. He shoved a desert eagle in the parrot's face.
"Here's how this will go down: You talk, I decide if you live."
The mobian struggled, but Bret pushed the desert eagle further into the parrot's face.
"Mmmbth! Guuuu....?"
The gun cocked, and Bret began to growl. Finally, the parrot broke down.
"Okay, okay! Don't kill me!"
"Tell me why you're doing that."
"I... I.... I thought I could trick the monsters. Don't kill me!"
Bret sniffed around the parrot. He could smell drugs.
"You're a user and a loser, just like that idiot, Eddie."
'Eddie' was among the long list of people that Bret didn't get along with. For a while, Bret wondered if Eddie was anywhere in the city, but he waved off that possibility knowing that Eddie was probably off getting into trouble with the law in a neighboring city, Bellic.
"Are you for or against the King?" asked Bret. The parrot was unresponsive. Bret shoved the Desert Eagle further into his face again.
"Do you want to know what a bullet tastes like?"
"For!" said the Parrot, struggling.
"Really?" asked the porcupine from earlier. "Because we're all against him."
The parrot looked at the group.
"You're bluffin'!"
Bret groaned.
"If you don't believe us, then go on your own. See how long you last against the rest of them," said Bret, wrapping an arm around the parrot's neck and facing him in the direction of the real monsters.
"I'm for King Eggman!" said the parrot.
"Final answer?" asked Bret. The parrot remained unresponsive.
"Then you're a loyalist," said Bret, shoving the parrot toward the monsters. He watched unmoved as the parrot tried in vein to fight against the monsters, meeting his untimely demise.
"Now he doesn't have to pretend anymore," said Bret. He turned to face the survivors, some in shock, others uncaring.
"Where is the other group, and is it for or against, or do you not know?"
"They hid in a police station, and I think they're against the King, but I'm not sure," said one of the survivors. Bret turned away and started walking in the direction of the only police station in town (opposite of the direction that the creatures were in). They turned away and walked, just as the parrot started to come back again. The streets were howling with the sound of wind and sounds of death. Relatively few of the infected stood in the way. Most were already dead, bullet wounds on every body.
"The surviving group likely went through here," said Bret.
"How can you tell?" asked one survivor. Bret pointed at one of the bodies, and walked away shaking his head.
"We need to hurry. They might have used up all ammo. I want to get to them before night," said Bret, observing the time. He had used two hours for himself: One for eating, and another for a power nap. He left his house at about 2:30, and it had been an hour and a half since he found the survivors.
The time was 4:12, and days were long. He had until about 8 PM before the sun set.
The police station made itself visible shortly after, the front double doors wide open. At once, several laser pointers lit up on Bret's torso.
"We aren't infected!" called Bret. At first, only two pointers vanished. Then, one by one, the rest followed.
"The King is bad, the King is evil! What do you think?" called Bret.
One by one, a survival group of 20 people appeared.
"The King sucks!"
"It's all his fault!"
"What happened to our goddam support?"
"Monarchy isn't the way!"
Bret nodded.
"Are you infected?" he asked the group. The group (all humans) responded in the negative.
"You want the King to fall?"
The group responded in a loud roar of approval.
"Then keep your weapons, and prove useful. Does anyone here know of any other survival groups other than the one at the pet store?"
One human stepped forward. Bret beckoned her to come closer.
"Where did that next group go?" he asked.
"I... I think they said something about going to the hospital," the surviving girl responded.
"How big was the group?" asked Bret, looking up at the human. She shrugged.
"Big. Really big, I think it was about 70 people."
Bret backed up a step.
"Really?" asked Bret, his eyes shallowing out to a gaze.
"Yeah, maybe a few less, I don't know."
Bret's eyes hollowed out even further.
"Kill the King..." he whispered to himself. "...need help..." he breathed.
"Uh, what else do you need to know?" asked the girl.
"Is that group for or against the King?" asked Bret.
"I don't know, but considering how this is all his fault, I think they'd be against him. Why are you asking that?" asked the girl. Bret turned away, his ears drooping a bit knowing that it was he and his allies that made the disease.
"Because I want to kill him."
She gasped.
"Why?"
Bret turned his head to her.
"Because the voices tell me I have to."
Before she said another word, Bret left by way of his usual exit: the "I'm not going to speak of this further" exit. The group followed.
"If a creature is seen, don't shoot unless it's running at you or if you really have to. Don't waste your bullets."
Bret continued walking, and felt a pinch in his bad leg.
Crap... I think a stitch just tore.
"Are you infected?" asked one survivor seeing Bret's leg buckle quickly. He shook his head.
"I tripped while looking for survivors, and I've been limping ever since."
The survivors seemed to accept Bret's explanation, and soon a hospital was seen in the distance.
The time was now 5:32; A horde was standing in front of the hospital, but Bret quickly saw that the "horde" was really the group of survivors, observing a crude barricade designed to keep the creatures at bay. Bodies were visible on the opposing side of the barricade, so it appeared to work. Bret approached, and the survivors pointed guns at him.
"Relax, we aren't infected. Are any of you?" asked Bret. The guns lowered.
"No!" roared the crowd.
"Do you guys appreciate the King and his corruption?"
"No!"
"Do you want to take the tyrant down?"
"YES!"
Bret nodded, and pointed a finger at the group.
"Do you guys know of any other survivors?" he asked. Three survivors stepped forward.
"There was another group, but it was picked up already by a black and crimson hedgehog," said one of the survivors (mobian).
"Shadow," said Bret, mainly to himself.
"Alright, the rest of you have to meet me in front of the castle. We're taking him down. Meet me by the east side of the castle tomorrow night at 9 PM. We're going to dig a few trenches," instructed Bret.
"Where do we go now?"
Bret shrugged.
"Use your imagination. Go with a friend, maybe go to Bellic City. I don't care, but please, please show up tomorrow at 9. I really need your help."
The large group let out a roar of approval, and followed Bret out of Westopolis and to a road that would take the survivors to Bellic. Exhausted and dirty, Bret dragged himself home as the crowd dispersed, took a shower, and collapsed on his bed, too tired to even change before falling asleep. Bret fell asleep in a wet towel, on his bed, at 7:02 PM.
End of 10
I'se got no grammar problems.
