Talker – Chapter 5: Tongue Tied
Author's Note: Now is when the REAL story begins. Enjoy.
"I'm gonna go up around that hill and make sure none of those bastards followed us." Kenneth broke the group's wallowing despair with his booming confidence. "You all stay here. You got that?"
The other three nodded, hesitant, but without the desire to protest after such a hellish downfall in morale. Seeing no disagreement, Kenneth nodded and loaded his gun with a few shells from his pocket.
"Be careful…" Terry muttered between small grunts, looking down as Ana tightened the bandaging around his sprained arm.
Kenneth took the comment with only another breif nod before he disappeared into the row of trees, not daring another glance back at his companions.
"This doesn't look too bad. Should heal up." Ana assured, patting Terry's arm once and offering a clearly forced smile.
"Thanks, Ana." He said sincerely, letting out a breath as he flexed the hand. He felt rather ashamed of having tripped like some clumsy idiot against that rock. He had dropped the camera, that's what tripped him up. He couldn't for the life of him even remember why he had been carrying it in the first place. It just seemed like some gag to try and raise hopelessly downed spirits. Thank God for Kenneth's realization and bear-like vice grip that hoisted him from the ground in one fluid motion and hurled him back to his feet. He hadn't even noticed the crackling pain boiling in the arm until the chase subsided, and they had somehow managed to out-manuever their pursuers. Still embarassed by his foolishness, however, he was rather upset about seeing this obvious binding that now covered the injured arm.
Nicole sat close by him, one hand clutched around his upper arm, rubbing her thumb up and down affectionately against it and the other hand ruffling the fur around Chips's neck. She had a somewhat distant look on her face, gazing away at particularly nothing with and intent blankness. There was a downed expression on Terry's features whenever he happened to glance at her, an obvious telling of his desire to comfort her somehow. Unfortunately, he couldn't quite think of what to say.
Ana sat in the sand with her arms crossed over her knees, her eyes half open and dulled in the midst of her unwelcome musing. Part of it was the relief at the simple fact that they were not running now, safe, if only for a few moments to catch their breath, and having suffered no further casualties. Some was the ever-welling sadness that she tried not to show. Most of it, however, was a deepening frustration and anger, furious at both herself and the rest of the group for having placed such ignorant hopes on this island. This hideous chunk of land was a joke. A mockery. She felt it from the moment they had set foot upon it, and hadn't been necessarily shocked to find that its inhabitants were less than human. It seemed that even as they had been running, all she could think of was the idiocy of the situation and how clear it was that their ingenious plan had been nothing more than desperate and thoughtless wishes. How could they have thought that they would be the only ones to think of fleeing to an island once an epedemic hit mainland? Surely great scores of panicking crowds had rushed to islands like this in the beginning with the same ideas, only to bring the disease with them and not being nearly as prepared. Then the dead must have grown from there. What a stupid thing not to have even considered.
She quickly found through this that desperation and hope were both the concoctors of illusion and nothing more. They had all said they didn't want to die in that mall, but the truth was simply, and more accurately, that none of them had wanted to die period. It was easy to desire change when current security was provided, easy to feign bravery when nothing threatened you at the moment. But when the moment comes, gnashing its teeth in your face and reaching for your throat, you are the coward again, begging for that safe place you had before. If they had all just stayed…maybe prepared a little better. Done something. They would still have the others. C.J., even Steve…and oh God, Michael. But now, there was no use for these 'what ifs'. Only 'what nows', after they had made this stupid mistake and what they could do with the time, resources, and people they still had… It all sounded so bland. She didn't think she could do a very good job of taking Michael's place as optimist.
Kenneth was back already, and the others looked up in eagerness to hear whatever news he had brought with him. His gun was slung casually over a shoulder, his stoney expression wavering under his weariness. "Nope. Not a one. Looks like were alright to hold up here for the night."
"We got lucky." Ana murmured, standing to her feet.
"I'll start a fire." Terry said, not entirely sure he knew how.
"I'll help. Better yet," Nicole tucked some hair behind her ear, taking up an unusual amount of dedication. "just let me do it. With one arm, it would be morning before you started a fire."
Terry opened his mouth to counter that remark, but he was at a loss, so he settled for indignantly looking around for something else to do. With a glance to Ana, upon which he decided to leave her be, he stood and approached Kenneth in an intending manner. "You think this place is safe?" he asked quietly.
"No." Kenneth gave him a look, letting his gun hang down at his side. "Do you?"
Terry sighed unhappily, in no mood to put up with such dismal views, but in no mood to argue. "Well there can't be that many on this small island. Otherwise more would have found us by now. Right?"
"Maybe they just found a resort." His lip curled at his own sarcasm.
"I wonder how many there really are." Terry said, almost to himself.
"You think it matters, kid? What's it gonna matter if it's ten hundred or ten thousand? We're out-numbered. We don't have a use for counting heads at the moment." Kenneth stared him down, not meaning to seem as imposing as he was with just his size.
"Well…I don't know. What if there were…" he furrowed his brow and looked down. "Let's say there were a hundred. We might just be able to kill them all and take this island."
"Kid…" Kenneth was exasperated, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'll level with you, Terry. Less than that attacked those buses, and just look how we made out. And even then, we had more ammo, more protection, and more manpower. What do we got now? Nothing."
"I…" he grumbled, clenching the fist of his good hand. "No, I guess…I guess not. I'm just thinking that maybe we're running out of options."
"Correction: we're out of options." Kenneth pointed out. "Just keep tryin' to live. Play it by ear. S'all we can do." He offered an almost sympathetic shrug.
That tone of abandonement rubbed Terry the wrong way, but there was nothing he could say to it. Kenneth was right, in all aspects. There was no safe haven as the Crossroads Mall had been and no weaponry like Andy's gun shop. There was just a few guns, and whatever Kenneth had left for ammunition. Pretty piss poor odds. Mostly, he worried about what this 'living by ear' would mean. As ashamed as he was at the moment for not being able to fend for himself, how could he try and take care of Nicole and Ana? And they couldn't all very well rely on Kenneth's strength alone. And while he knew this was not a time for doubt, he was having a very hard time looking for any kind of advantages they had over the dead besides intelligent thought. That would just have to be enough.
He turned to watch Nicole building a small pit for a fire, tossing in wood scraps and anything else she could find. He wondered where she had picked up the experience. Back at the mall, they had been spoiled with luxuries all around them. Lighters, matches, whatever they wished. It must have just been one of those things she'd picked up along the way, likely from days of camping with her brothers and her father, which she had spoken of often to him. Those were some of the lovely moments where she had smiled without meaning to. Moments he wanted back, and sadly, wasn't sure if he would ever have again. But he was quickly reminded that it wasn't the time for that now.
"It looks like this is it." Kenneth said, adressing the group. "Get as comfortable as you can."
"What was that?" Nicole asked timidly, standing up and freezing like a rabbit.
They all stopped to listen. One little sound could mean death waiting for them. Chips stood on straight toes, ears jumping up and down and alternately sniffing the air and ground before panting, but he wasn't barking, and so they waited.
"You're sure you heard something?" Kenneth turned slightly to her.
Nicole nodded harshly. "Yes. Kenneth—!" she cried out, falling back.
And there, out of the dark shrowded trees came a figure, stumbling like a wounded animal over the sand towards them, then away, then back towards. With one topple, the creature tripped down over the rise in the sand and was at Kenneth's feet in such a sudden movement that he almost didn't have time to react. Nicole let out a cry of shock and terror. A young Asian-featured man with slitted, animalistic eyes like those of the dead, staring up at Kenneth with bleeding wounds and on awkwardly strewn legs under his collapsed form. In complete surprise, Kenneth shoved the gun instantly against the small man's temple, his finger already pulling down on the trigger before the zombie's form went terribly rigid and its mouth opened. "Don't…" it pleaded shakily, wincing away from the barrel. Its eyes shifted around and blinked. "…please…"
His finger froze.