Author's Note: I'm not dead yet—I've just suffered a severe case of writer's block. But after extensive surgery, the problem seems to have improved, and thus I continue to chapter eighteen…
It was night by the time the group had settled a little. The anger and the fevered stress had died down and they all began to function well with each other again. Though the incident at the resort was not forgotten, not by far, it was at least forced to the back of their minds where it needn't be touched for the time being. Each knew, however, that it would have to be dealt with sooner or later with the situation being as it was.
Tyler came back to the camp gradually, not quite desiring to speak with the others in the uncertainty of how they felt. As of now, he didn't know where most of them were anyway. He thought he saw Ana and Nicole together a ways off, and so he assumed that Kenneth and Terry must have been somewhere close by. He looked around for them, but didn't find anyone, so he went back to the center of the camp. As he stood next to the fire, he looked somewhat lost or out of place—precisely how he felt. It was strange to be here without the rest of the group, like he had just assumed they would always be there. He almost worried, in fact, about where they all were, but he decided that it was better for him to be alone right now all the same.
He slowly pulled off his shirt and tossed it down, using the light of the fire to examine the painful cuts and bruises on his body, and a particular area where the discomfort seemed to be coming from. He made his discovery rather immediately. Jammed into his skin, just below one of his ribs (a very obvious place considering that he could count them), was a long sliver of wood that had gotten lodged in him when he was pushed to the floor. He'd noticed it then, but had forgotten about it in his dumbstruck horror. The horror of looking up at those hideous faces and scrambling away into a corner like a frightened dog. They didn't look back at him, though, no matter how long he waited for them to. He just didn't have time to worry about the miniature stake in his rib cage. Now that he thought about it, however—damn. It hurt like hell. He clenched his teeth and drew it out, stopping the flow of blood with his other hand and sighing in relief as he threw it into the sand. He hoped it wouldn't get infected…He smirked at that.
Footsteps were approaching him, hearing the displacement in the sand slow in pace as the person came closer. He recognized the figure as Terry, who was looking at him curiously in the reddish glow of the fire. Tyler merely gaped for a few moments, studying him for the first time in color and making a few pointless mental notes about it. "Hi…" he muttered weakly.
Terry cleared his throat, scratching a shoulder as he nodded. "Hey man."
Tyler reached down and found his shirt, starting to put it back on, unwilling to expose his injury. No sense in making a fuss.
"So uh, how do you feel?" Terry was making a good attempt at polite conversation. It was a nice effort, if only a little awkward.
He shifted his shirt back on and shrugged lightly, eyes flickering up to his face every so often. "Little better, actually."
Terry nodded and swallowed, looking down and seeming as though he was trying to think of something to say. It was easy to understand how he felt, the two hadn't so much as properly introduced themselves since he arrived. "Well Ana and Nicole are down by the beach, and I think Kenneth's out there with them. At least I hope so. I hate it when he goes wandering off."
Tyler thought back to when Kenneth had carelessly shoved him from harm without regard to self-interest back at the resort. "Guess he just thinks he can take care of himself." he suggested.
Terry gave a forced smile and looked around, sitting down next to the fire after a moment of deliberation. "I think he thinks he can take care of all of us. Well honestly…I guess he's done a pretty damn good job of it so far."
"Hm." He rubbed his cheek with a shaking hand and glanced over at Terry, who was making it an obvious point to be casual. There was an extended period of silence, only broken by the occasional crackle of burning wood and the off-key chirp of croaking crickets. "…Can I ask you something Terry?"
He straightened up, a serious expression on his face. "…Yeah. Sure."
Tyler thought for a moment, daring to look right at him with undead eyes. "…Are you afraid of me?"
Terry looked up instantly, shock clearly in him from that question. "No, I-." His cheeks burned slightly as he stuttered, feeling foolish. "I mean no…of course not… Should I be?" that last part had meant to be a joke…why didn't it sound that way in his ears?
Tyler released a husky breath and he returned his gaze to the sand, not meaning to intimidate him. "I was just thinking…maybe…you know, maybe I would be afraid of me, too."
"I'm not afraid of you." Terry decided definitely. "It's just the sickness…It's made us all paranoid, really."
"But I have the sickness." Tyler pointed darkly to his chest, lowering his head and touching the cut on his chin. "That doesn't scare you?"
Terry waited to find his answer, eyes studying the spirling fire as he shook his head. "I would be scared if I was you…I'll admit that."
"Man, I just don't know…" Tyler let his eyes blur to focus on the few awful visions that spun through his mind. "They seem to think I'm one of them." That came out almost as a whisper as breathless as it was, fingers touching the gored teeth marks in his forearm.
Terry couldn't help but feel an uncomfortable chill at those words, whether or not he protested to the fact. How would he feel if it were him? What would he be doing? Would he take it the same way Tyler was? "Yeah well…" he started. "They don't think. And…I know the guy that pulled one of those bastards off me back there sure wasn't one of them." He looked up, cautiously watching his companion for a moment. "I owe you one."
Tyler smiled faintly, but he didn't seemed too moved by the sentiment. "Don't feel like you owe me anything. I…it was really a spur of the moment reaction, I don't want you to think I'm a hero. Trust me, I uh…Huh, I'm not that brave. I didn't even really realize what I was doing."
"You still did it." Terry cut in. "And if you hadn't, I don't know where I'd be. So don't be so modest, okay?" he gave a slight grin.
He thought about it for a little while before he shrugged. "Hey…don't mention it."
Terry felt a bit more satisfied, offering a silent sigh and resting his elbows out on his knees. "So Ana…told us you took a hit to the head."
"Uh, yeah. I guess so." Tyler agreed. "But I don't remember how, if you were gonna ask. I don't really…remember much at all before this whole thing started happening. It's all kind of…distant…if you know what I mean."
Terry nodded grimly and kept his eyes on the fire, allowing the image to sear into his mind to replace ones previously burned there. "Yeah. I know exactly what you mean."
Tyler paused, then rubbed the back of his head. "It's probably not that bad." He reasoned. "I think Ana's just concerned because she fixed people up for a living, and now she can't. I guess that just gets under her skin."
"It's more than that. She's worried. I don't know, Ty…you didn't look so good last time we saw you."
Tyler considered his statement bitterly before letting the memory of last night bother him, tossing it aside. "Sometimes I wonder if I should worry about her." He straightened up almost like that thought surprised even himself.
"Really?" Terry's brow dropped in mild confusion. "…About Ana?"
"It's that she worries so much. About the rest of us. It's almost like she feels that we're all her responsibility." He explained.
Terry took and aimless glance back at the direction where Ana had gone. "That's Ana for you…she's tough."
"But what happens to her when she can't do it anymore…" Tyler took a minute to think about that. When had he started spending so much time analyzing her? "Why is she like that…?" he asked. "You know, why does she feel like it's all on her shoulders? Like she feels guilty or soemthing… Did something happen?"
Terry swallowed and didn't take his eyes off the fire, lost in thought. He eventually had to look away when the smoke threatened to draw tears from his eyes. "A lot of things happened. Maybe you would just have to know her. She's always been like that. Part of it's probably because she's a doctor, and she still feels like that's her job. And since we got to this island…it's just gotten worse. She's like Kenneth, in a way. She thinks that as long as we're okay, she's doing her job. She can feel important. Something like that."
"I guess I can see that." Tyler said. But in the back of his mind, there was really only one question he truly wanted to ask. "…Can I ask you what happened to you guys? Where you came from?" he seemed unsure if he really wanted to know. It was undoubtedly not a happy story.
"…It's only fair…I mean, you received a pretty harsh interrogation yourself, so…" He looked up at Tyler with a strange expression, one that looked as though it was to warn him, but at the same time, appealing to his humanity in a sense of trust. "I'll start from the beginning…"
There was a good deal of sorrow just in that tone, and Tyler began to wonder just what kind of story Terry was about to tell him…
"I was a security guard at the Crossroads Mall…"