Well, this is going to be a bloody mess for me to clean. The man (most likely to be Damas, dubbed Thorn Head) was bleeding everywhere. Should I use green eco now to stop the bleeding or wash him to prevent dirt from infecting him? I set him atop my tarp and rushed over to my last gallon of bottled water. Snagging my first aid kit, a big, clean shred of cloth, I rushed back to Thorn Head. It was a bit confusing figuring out all the buckles and latches on his armor and clothing, but I managed to strip him down to the blue loincloth and brown shroud. From there, I commenced to pouring water, wiping away blood, patting down with alcohol wipes, and sending small bursts of green eco.
Clear the wound, clean the wound, heal the wound. A small, stressed, anxiety filled routine that lasted what felt like hours. When I healed the last bit of sliced skin, I was able to breathe easy again. Double checking to ensure I did not leave any open wounds and seeing none, I took the time to actually SEE this video game character. While in the game, people always looked perfect, no hair out of place, no blemishes. Thorn Head's skin was a bit weathered, littered with minor scars. The foot-long ears taper into a sharp point, lacking any signs of earlobes. His green hair is poofy, only to be held back in a dreadlock fashion by leather string, reaching to a bit below the shoulders. There were five rusty orange spikes coming out of his head. With a closer look, it seems like they were embedded into the skull. The facial hair was sparse, only two patches going out and held down by string, the ends reaching the chin. He seemed to be about 5 foot seven in height. His arms are LONG. While the hands of humanity reach only to maybe three or four inches above the knees, his fingers are practically touching the joints. And his legs, well I wouldn't say they're short, they only look shorter due to the long arms. The clothing appeared to be handmade as well. Thorn Head's body was well defined. All toned muscles, not one shred of fat. And those abs. I shook my head. He probably already has a special one.
Wait, what's that? What I thought was to be shadow turned out to be blood trickling between the . . . legs. I missed a spot. Down there. Oh please say his pride is covered properly. Steeling myself, I pushed top cloth aside. No, it was not covered, and Thorn Head's family jewels were . . . bleeding. "OH, COME ON!"
"Gross, gross, gross." Now that my unexpected visitor was as healthy as he can be, somewhat clean and moved over to my sleeping bag (which I had to unzip and spread to not let the ground dirty him up again), I took the time to clean myself off. Well, the best cleaning one can do by scrubbing sand all over their skin. Didn't want to risk contamination to my only water source. Bleah, I stink and I have enough filth on, I can't see if my bruising has gone down or not. Hmm, looks like he's shivering. Maybe the metal head skin will be big enough to help him stay warm. Yep, it is. And the stuff I pulled off him was set aside.
Okay, enough looking. I turned my attention to what I still have of my supplies. Deciding on my little planner, I searched for what should be today's date. Ok, let's see . . . I left on June 18, it should be July 2. Fuck, my bloody time of the month. It's going to be here at any time now. 'Lord Almighty, please say that my body had enough stress to keep it from happening.' The last two weeks were bad enough, but to deal with THAT right now. I do have what I need to manage but . . . 'This had to happen at such a time.' Looking back at Thorn Head, I decided to gear up.
Now, you might be wondering why I would be covering myself up when it was such a hot temperature outside. Well, one, I got off lucky with being attacked outside most of the time, but when I'm attacked inside the cave, something gets damaged AKA my water, food and clothing. Not much of my possessions are left now, so I pushed them all into one corner of my little haven in hopes they will survive another meeting with an outsider. Just because I may know of this guy, doesn't mean it'll be safe for me. Ok, and I'm starting to feel insecure from the bruising. As for gearing up, well let's see, I'm still wearing my original outfit that is now practically part of my skin. I pull on the bicycle padding (elbows, knees, wrists), belt on my bowie knife, pull hair up (such greasy hair, ick) camo scarf on neck, camo mesh mask to cover lower half of face and nose, and finally, khaki helmet with clear visor pulled down.
Wait, hang on. I pulled my helmet and mask off. 'Need to drink and eat.' Digging out my LifeStraw (big straw with a filter), I gulped down some of my precious fluid from the ground before coughing up a bit. 'Ruddy cough. Hmm, probably getting dark out now.' Tossing my bag of food next to the water, I crawled out to nab my phone. Oh, it's dark out, maybe that's why Thorn head was shivering. It may be cold for him, but still just a tad toasty for me. 'A desert is supposed to be cold at night. But it's still too warm for me. Fucking planet just NEEDS to have two suns, not one.'
Turning 'round back to the cave, I bawked upon tripping over something and gaining a mouthful of sand. Sputtering, I twisted my neck to see what made me eat sand. A staff. Thorn Head's staff. Grumbling about my luck, I decided to drag the oversized walking stick back in with me and nearly toppled over. 'Why does this thing feel so dense?' Naughty Dog, I really wish you gave out a few more details, like how heavy this staff is.
After lugging the heavy thing back inside, I made sure to tuck it well away from my still sleeping guest. Satisfied that he was no longer shivering, my attention went straight to my food of the day. Cactus and fish, for the umpteenth time in a row. Cut the brown spots and the outer edge off the cactus leaves. Chop them up into pieces. Toss into my little pot of water and boil with yellow eco. When it reaches the proper shade of green, drain the water and dump the plant into the bowl. Use yellow eco again to sanitize a flat rock. Fish already gutted and beheaded, carefully cut the meat off the ribcage and spine. Place onto rock and carefully cook it with eco. Peel the skin off and plop meat into bowl with cactus and mix until fish is torn into bite sized pieces. Meal is complete. Oh, and bury remains as deep as I can.
The 'meal' was as bland as ever. Making sure there was enough left behind for my guest, I topped it off and tucked it aside. I don't know how much longer I can do this. 'There are people out there who were forced to survive much longer than just two weeks but they had the luxury of being on their home planet. I'm stuck in a different world with just base knowledge of the timeline, map layout and people. People who might as well be a different race from myself.' "I don't belong here."
And my hearing aids just . . . stopped. Oh, come on. Really?! Blinking the tears back, I pulled a pack of batteries out of my pocket before remembering that I only changed them just yesterday and the two days before. Now that I think about it, I started off with three packs of batteries. I never really put any thought to it, but I was changing them almost every other day when they should last around three to four weeks. And I am down to just one pack. Damn it! Maybe the surrounding eco or something must be interfering with the batteries. The hearing aids however, were practically ten years old. They were bound to die out soon. 'Good thing I brought my new ones. Let's see, this new set has two programs instead of one like the old set. I best stick with the environmental setting.' With that settled, I pulled the helmet and mask back on, curled up into a corner and waited. It would be foolish to sleep right now.
It was about an hour later when I noticed a movement. I stiffened to remain as unobtrusive as possible. It looked like Thorn Head was taking in his surroundings by his senses before opening his eyes. He was sniffing a lot too. Do the people here have a greater sense of smell? Wait, do I smell bad right now or am I smelling like the environment? Which is it? Well no matter, looks like he's finally opening his eyes . . . and twitches badly. I think it was from waking up to see a metal head staring right at you. 'Now you want to get up? But we don't know if you are truly healed yet or not.'
"Should you really be moving right now?" Purple eyes snapped over, meeting my blue ones. "Who are you?" Despite the fact that his voice was a bit raspy and slightly pitched, the commanding tone of his voice just irritated me. Yes, I get it. Plenty of enemies out there, don't know who the other person is. But ruler or not, I was in no mood to take crap from anyone. Deciding to be blunt- "I saved your life so shut up. You hungry?"
Before he could react to the comment, a gurgling sound made its way to our ears. Thorn Head casted a dark look to his stomach for interrupting. Stifling a laugh, I tossed his belongings over before crawling over the leftovers. "You should see if you still have your beacon or radio, Thorn Head." I was shot another glare before he started to search for the mentioned objects, keeping a spare eye on me. Popping the lid off, I crawled back just close enough to put the meal next to him before I backed up to my corner.
Well, from the way he set his clothing to the ground, it looks like Thorn Head dropped beacon and radio in the scuffle, so I decided it was best if I retrieved them now before nature mucked up the insides. Leaving Thorn Head, who was poking at his meal, I crawled halfway through the tunnel before realizing there was a sandstorm outside. 'But there was a massive sandstorm just six days ago. How can another this size just pop up so quickly? Oh wait, video game world. Nature's crazy here.' Readjusting my scarf to keep the sand out of my mouth, I continued to crawl out. It became increasingly obvious that this was a nasty one. No visibility. Howling winds. Stinging sand going where it shouldn't. Maybe due to the fact that there is more dark eco than any other in this world is the reason the sandstorms can really kill you. 'If you're from this world. Hah, I'm not. You can't kill me.' With the four metal head gems still out there that I meant to gather, it wasn't that hard for me to locate the missing equipment. Arms full, I crawled back to my cave, only to find Thorn Head still poking at his food. 'Did he just spend the last few minutes just poking at the food?'
"Oy, either eat it or give it to me. I didn't make that just to have it sitting 'round." And the slightly peaceful look on his face changed back into the now increasingly familiar glare. "And just how are you still alive? By the smell of it, there's a storm raging outside." Again, smelling. First the marauder and now Sand King. What do these people have? Super senses? "Don't know what you mean about the smell Thorny but yes, there is a sandstorm outside. And why would I be dead? It's nothing but irritating. Quit staring an' eat!" Thorn Head didn't say anything, though he finally started to eat before he just blanched at the bland taste. Not able to hold back any longer, I just started laughing.
It took several hours of waiting before Thorny finally got in touch with Spargus. The sun has just started to rise and the storm was over. But all of the available vehicles were apparently gummed up with sand. I barely held back a groan. It was possible to walk to Spargus from here before noon, but I couldn't let him go alone. "Get dressed Thorn Head. I'm walking you over."
The walk to Spargus was . . . tense. No words were exchanged. We barely looked at each other. It was sheer silence with only the occasional wind keeping us company. The sun rose at around 6:15 in the morning. If we keep up the decent pace, we can make it to Spargus at maybe 11:30. Just another reminder that the Wasteland was larger in real life than it looked in the game.
It was at 10 or so when Thorn Head decided to break the silence. "You're making no effort to walk silently." Not expecting that raspy voice to pipe up, it took a few moments for my head to grasp on the words before they fully registered. Ok, super senses. They have advanced senses compared to me and they keep pointing it out. Are mine really that weak here?
"My walking is loud? Maybe your hearing is just too sensitive." Looking at my charge, I had to do a double take. While he did look tired and had to lean on his staff now and again, there was little sign of sweating. I'm sweating buckets here. And wearing the extra gear didn't help. It'll be a damn miracle if I could make it back to the cave before passing out.
Thorn Head snorted, "They have to be in order to survive. Danger hides at every corner, even when a barricade is erected." Ah, he must be talking about Haven City. Though I'm not the best at body language, I can tell that it's a sour topic. "Sucks to be you," and the glare is back, "you lot have to deal with treachery and an alien invasion, it's not the same for my people." And now I finally receive a look that isn't a glare but curiosity.
"Your people? So you're not from Haven City?" I shook my head. "Then Kras City." Again, I shook my head, stifling a laugh when he gave a look of frustration. "Then where are you . . ." All color just drained from his face before it contorted into pain. One moment, pale as a ghost, the next, he was on his knees. 'Stupid, stupid, STUPID! Just because I used green eco doesn't mean he's fully healed! The med team back at Spargus should know what to do.' But we were still about an hour and a half away.
The wind was starting to pick up again, dragging the familiar scents of sand, the sea, skunk. 'FUCK! They're out hunting now!?' Knowing what had to be done, I called on both red and blue eco, slung him over my shoulder (while ignoring Thorn Head's protest and the overly warm hand on my back in attempt to brace himself) and started running. "What are you doing?"
"Shut up! Metal Heads are out hunting. Can't you smell them?" Upon a roar that sounded a bit too close for comfort, all intentions of talking were chucked away. Gripping the body tighter, I increased the amount of eco pumping throughout my body to the point that the veins were glowing through the muck and bruising. It wasn't too long before the gates finally came into view. Honestly, the walls surrounding the hidden city looked like years of slapping a metal plate on of another. But it holds strength, more than enough to stand for a long time against all the dangers the Wasteland holds.
Just as I reached the entrance, the gates rumbled open to show a large group of vehicles, all lined up and ready to roll out. In the game, there is enough room in the garage to hold nine different buggies. Reality decided to slap me again by having a garage that was maybe three times bigger than in the game and a lot more than just nine vehicles.
"Damas!" One of the drivers leaped out of a buggy and came running over, unslinging the large gun off his back. With it confirmed that Thorn Head was truly Damas, I quickly pulled him off my shoulder and spun the man around to show all the others that he was just fine. (While conveniently ignoring the fact that I was using Damas as a shield should any Spargan get trigger happy.) But before any words can be exchanged, there was a loud clamoring off to the side. Mixtures of howling, snarls, grunts and growling just filled the air before a wave of chaos came crashing over the mountainside.
It was a clusterfuck. I can't remember all the details. All I do know is that the wave was actually a horde of metal heads and what could have been crocadogs. The two groups somehow met and fought their way of to the gates of Spargus, forcing everyone there to start shooting, hence our current situation. I just kept moving, punching, stabbing and letting off yellow eco onto the flying metal heads. Damas was still in no condition to fight in the middle of it all but that didn't stop him from shouting out orders and taking a shot at any stragglers that came his way. Several Spargans formed a defensive circle around their King.
At one point, I somehow got onto the back of a massive crocadog that was a lot fluffier and more than twice the size of its brethren. Using my legs to cling on, I used the vantage point to keep shooting yellow eco at a metalpede that wormed its way into the mess. Just as the beast died, a metal head decided to headbutt me in the gut to get me off my mount. The crocadog was kind enough swing its tail hard enough to send it flying but not before the metal head latched on to my left side. The sound of tearing flesh was indescribable. Bits of flesh were hanging off. My rib bones were showing through. There was even one spot where you could see my lung. It was there that my body just had it and everything went black.