Remember those exams I was talking about? Well, they're just around the corner so this may be the last chapter for a while. But never fear, I intend to finish this story as it's been floating around inside my head for moths and I fear for my sanity if I don't. Now, lets meet the newest edition to the cast.
Chapter 8: Resident
Jobe had been awake for a while but he still refused to open his eyes. Firstly, he felt as though he'd been run over by a steam roller and every muscle ached at just the thought of moving but that was only part of the reason Jobe hadn't rose. Every second he held his lids tightly shut was one less second he had to spend in this living nightmare.
At least he wasn't still in that room with Mr. Personality of the Year. His ribs still felt as though there were bands of iron wrapped around them, causing him to inhale with ragged breaths. Even with his eyes tightly clamped shut, he could tell he was no longer in that god-forsaken room. The sound of groaning pipes (that reminded him of the temperamental radiator that barely made his apartment habital) had replaced the sound of churning water. It was a comforting thought and Jobe smiled for a moment as he entertained the idea, but the hard, jagged springs that dug into his back from the thin mattress he lay on continuously chased the dream away. With a groan, he rolled on to his side as one dug just that little bit deeper into his flesh but despite that, this was the comfiest place he'd been during his entire trip through Silent Hill.
It was a laborious cry of protest from the pipe system, sounding more like a baying wounded animal that finally forced Jobe to open his eyes. He was, as he suspected, lying on a wafer thin mattress but he tore his head away from it as soon as his eyes registered its state. It was stained every color of a twisted rainbow, ranging from rancid browns to musty grays. God knows what had been spilled on it and occasionally, stuffing puffed out in little sodden clouds from a whole assort ion of holes. It reminded Jobe more of innards spilling from gapping wounds, leading Jobe to ponder if this place really was beginning to get to him.
Jobe through off the rag that had been posing as a blanket. It was probably home to god knows how many millions of nits and parasites, and just looking at it was enough to make his skin crawl. Jobe gratefully dragged his eyes away from the 'blanket' and sat up on the make shift bed. He held his head in his hands and tried to ignore the fact he felt although he'd come down with the mother of all flue viruses. Jobe's wondering eyes came to rest on the small and rather battered bedside table. A lamp, minus the shade shone with a dim light as it illuminated the small bottles and plastic containers that littered the table. Cautiously, Jobe picked up the closest packet, held it up the bulb and squinted as he tried to read the tiny print.
'Pain killers'
On a second look, it was clear that all the plastic containers held various types of medicine, most had 'prescription only' typed across them in large, unmistakable writing. There was every thing, ranging from anti-biotic to tranquilizers. It was a pill popper's wet dream.
Jobe place the packet back down on the table and slowly rose from the creaky bed, not a hundred percent sure he wanted to meet his savior. He began to walk to the door of the small, dingy room but halted when he heard the unmistakable sound of someone clearing their throat. Jobe staled and silently weighed up his options but decided against running from the room. After all, his trusty pole and handgun seemed to be missing, along with that damn mobile phone. At a painfully slow speed, he turned to face whoever owned this charming little ghetto.
At first, Jobe thought the room was empty, save for a pile of dirty rags strewn across a worn armchair. It was only when they stood up, he relised there was someone sitting there.
The girl's shabby attire seemed to let her blend into background like some human chameleon. The faded, baggy and possibly once green hooded jumper hung loosely from her body, while her hands were thrust firmly into its front pocket. Her black trousers were also way too large for her slender frame and they ended in tatters, crusty with untold layers of muck and grime. The hood was pulled firmly down over her head, so most of it was counseled in a dark shadow. Even so, Jobe could feel the girl's eyes on him, examining him from head to toe.
For a moment, they just stood there in silence that grew more unbearable with every passing second.
"You're the one who saved me, right?" She nodded slowly but didn't say anything, letting that empty silence creep up on them again. "Thank you."
Again, she made no response but stared at Jobe like some beast trying to enforce their authority.
'This is like talking to a brick wall…and there is the possibility that all these pills have reduced her brain to mush, if they're hers.'He took a step towards her but she flinched and scuffled backwards. The air of dominance seemed to have left her in the blink of an eye as her body turned in upon itself, her head sunk down between her rounded shoulders.
"Why are you here?" Her voice came out no louder than a whisper but even so, Jobe could hear its horse tone, as though she suffered from laryngitis or some other hideous throat desies.
"I'm looking for a friend of mine, we were separated after we crashed not to far from this town. I figured he'd be here but_"
One of the girl's hands flew from the pocket and slammed down on the back of the armchair, causing a cloud of dust to rise up into the air.
"Forget about him, he's probably already dead. People don't tend to survive for very long here."
Her harsh gravely voice hit Jobe and let doubt surface to the top of his mind. He hadn't considered the fact that Phil could be dead.
'Time to take your head out of the clouds' How could a man who, as far as Jobe could tell, had been seriously injured last two minuets in this hell on earth. Jobe had left the car wreck unscathed and he was having enough trouble as it was.Obviously, his feelings had been as easy to read as an open book for the girl seemed to shrink back down again.
"I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. It's just that…" She trailed off with a sigh, beating the base of her palm against her forehead softly as she searched for words. "This town, it draws people here and it won't let them go until it's through with them. You must leave." Jobe couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.
"So what are you saying, Silent Hill's alive?" This was starting to get too much. Jobe was beginning to feel as though he was in a bad horror novel.
The girl bit down on her lower lip.
"In a way, I guess it is." Normally, Jobe would have laughed, but the last few hours had been far from normal. Also, even if this girl did flip from aggressive to passive in 0.2 seconds, there was something in her voice that struck a chord with Jobe.
"If you'd let me," her hand dove back into the pocket and she took a step towards Jobe, "I could get you out of here right now." It seemed to be more of a plea than a request but it was his turn to take a step back.
"I how do I know I can trust you, huh? You could be just as insane as that other woman." That memory of that encounter was just a little too fresh on his mind. The girl's body seemed to stiffen, like a dog that had caught a sent.
"What woman?" Her voice had lost the little warmth it had.
"I didn't catch her name, but she was real pasty and had hair that was almost…white_"
"You stay the hell away from Claudia!" The girl exploded with a roar, causing her voice to almost break up as she thrust her hidden face into Jobe's.
"Claudia?" He was so taken a back that he could merely repeat the name stupidly. The girl with drew her head and began pacing about the room angrily, spitting words like they were foul venom.
"That woman's bad news, we have to get you out of here before_"
"Whoa!" Jobe stuck his arm out, halting her as she went to make another pass. From the way her head snapped up, it suddenly didn't seem like such a good idea and for a moment, he truly believed she might rip his arm from its socket. Fortunately, she seemed ready to listen to him.
"I am not forsaking my friend in this hell hole." She opened her mouth to protest but Jobe cut her off. "Even if you drag me out of this town, I'd come back so don't try to stop me."
The girl remained silent and Jobe could feel her eye's studying him from behind the hood.
"But_"
"No." Jobe shook his head firmly.
"I'm not leaving without Phil."
Defeated, the girl let her head droop.
"If that's the case, then I guess I should help you find him if your going too damn stubborn to do what's right." She scuttled past him to the door that Jobe had considered escaping out of only moments before. She stopped and looked over her shoulder as her hand brushed the door handle.
"You coming?"
