Chapter 12

Alexiev Sakorsky

"Salone!"

I called out across the wreckage of the train. Bits and pieces still smouldered, twisted metal and pieces of who knew what jutted up out of the grass all around me. Overhead, birds flew through the blue, cloudless sky. It seemed ironic to me, that there would be such a beautiful piece of sun and sky beaming down onto a scene of such destruction. But as I was coming to notice, there were a lot of ironic things.

"Salone! Can you hear me?"

Nikole and I had apparently been knocked out about the same time we made the jump. I lost my M60 almost as soon as we had jumped, the sheer force of colliding into the ground had shattered it. I myself was lucky to be in one piece, even if it was a somewhat bloody one. Scrapes and still-bleeding wounds from the previous night covered me. My trenchcoat was torn and ragged, Like someone had performed in a sword fight while wearing it and lost.

"Salone ! Vhere the hell are you? Bastard..."

I stopped as my foot hit something soft. I looked down into the grass, wondering what I had stepped on. There, his face covered in little trickles of blood, was Salone.

"Salone!"

I dived down, putting my hands on his shoulders. No, he could not be dead. Not again, not another one. I grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, trying to wake him up.

"Salone!"

"...Yeah?"

The little ass-bastard! He wasn't even dead. In fact, he had been awake! He grinned up at me as he pushed my hands away, pulling himself to sit up among the grass. Taking a hand, he wiped a bit of the blood off his face. Little streaks of red were still smeered across his cheeks, but he didn't seem to notice. But I didn't care. Salone wasn't dead. He was here, alive, in front of me.

"What the hell are you staring at?"

I realized I had been staring at him. I looked away, abashed. As I did, I saw a glint of metal in the grass that didn't seem to resemble the surrounding wreckage. On closer inspection, it turned out to be the barrel of an M4A1. I picked it all the way up, holding the gun in my hands. I looked from it to Salone and back again.

"So um...you nearly died going back for zees thing?"

"Yeah. I figured it might still be uh...useful."

"You do know zat it is empty, right?"

He groaned. I was also coming to realize that thought wasn't Salone's strong point.

"Well that's...that's great. Just great."

I stood up, patting him on the shoulder before stretching.

"Do not vorry. There is extra ammunition for it, it's in my pack. We'll go back to Nikole and get it."

I offered out a hand, helping him up. As he dusted himself off, I took a look around. The area alongside the tracks were nothing but grass. Yellowish-green and brown stalks covered the area. On the outskirts of the grass loomed bent, crooked trees, their leaves gone with the winter. Now that I noticed though, it hadn't been nearly as cold as it had a few days ago. It was interesting, the weather they had here. Within a few days time, it could go from barren chills to warm, sunny days. I was going to have to find out where we were. Besides, wandering around aimlessly would only get us somewhere for a short while, and I wasn't interested in doing this for a living.

I nodded to Salone, gesturing to follow me as I started walking. He followed alongside, not saying a word. Up ahead, I could see the hunched over shape of Nikole bent over something. I winced when Salone's elbow jabbed me in the ribs.

"So um...where's that big gun you were carrying around?"

"I uh, lost it. It broke."

"Oh, that's um...that's too bad man. We got anything else?"

"Total, we have...two M4's, an MP5, and vhatever that is in your back pocket that you carry around. What for?"

But I never recieved my answer. As we neared, Salone stopped. His eyes went wide, his nostrils flaring as he paled. I looked back towards Nikole. She stood up, and I finally saw what, or should I say, who, she had been busy with.

"Why um...hey there guys. It's um...Josh.."

From his grassy bed on the ground, a bandaged up Josh King waved at us. From somewhere behind me, I heard Salone mutter something under his breath.

"Well. Can't wait to hear this one explained."

Judging by the condition he was already in, I couldn't either.

"So um...how ze hell did you survive? Do not get me wrong, I am glad you are here. But ve all thought you were dead. What happened?"

He stared Salone down, keeping his face emotionless as he talked.

"Well, glad to see you're concerned."

Nikole helped him prop himself up. Turning to me, she spoke words with a tone that could take the weather back down to icy.

"It seems that you're just overjoyed to see him."

I started to say something, but Josh waved his hand through the air slowly, cutting me off. Dropping it to his side, he cleared his throat. Salone and I sat down in the grass, listening to him. His voice came out weak and exhausted, like he had just ran a mile through a river. I eyed those bloody wounds. I hope they weren't what I thought they were...but I lost my concentration. I wanted to hear this badly.

"I fell off the train alright. Right as it started moving, I lost my balance and toppled over the side. I thought I was dead. But it turns out that zombies don't move too fast."

"What'd you do? Frag 'em all?"

Josh looked amused at Salone's remark. Reaching down to his leg, he pulled at the handle of a gigantic knife from a sheath built into his suit. From the detail and craftmanship, it looked like it came with the package of being a S.W.A.T. member. I snapped my head back up from the knife to Josh's face as he continued.

"A few, yes. It turns out, you have to go for the brain. That's hard to do with a blade, even a strong one like mine. I only took out a few. I had to scramble off through the forest, and they started following. All the underbrush and limbs slowed them down though, it's like they don't have any coordination what-so-ever. After about a mile, I stumbled back towards the railway...I've spent the most night running and taking short breaks. I only just got here about half an hour ago."

I nodded after the silence set in. It was bugging my mind though, about those wounds. Where had he gotten them from? Had a zombie gotten through to him? Had he been wounded? Was he going to...to turn? I couldn't stop myself. Quietly, I whispered my objections.

"And...those wounds of yours?"

He began to grin. I couldn't see what was so funny about being wounded. Looking up at me, he tried to hold back laughter as he spoke.

"Hey, I was hungry. You ever try to catch a raccoon with a knife?"

Everyone started to laugh. I didn't see what was so funny though.

What the hell was a raccoon?