Chris was snapped out of his thoughts, blinking.
"Don't scare me like that," Martin demanded, voice trembling.
A small "sorry" was all Chris could manage to say.
Chris was getting worse, and it had only been minutes. Martin looked ahead at the twisted labyrinth of trees ahead, then back to his suffering brother. 'If the crew didn't get the message, Chris is done for' Martin thought. Where his little brother was concerned, Martin took no chances.
"Chris, I know this is the last thing you want to hear, but we're gonna have to walk. It's your only chance" Martin admitted, a guilty wave of empathy hitting him.
Martin was right, that was the last thing Chris wanted to hear. But he was right, he could feel the venom coursing through him, draining him. If he wanted to live, he'd have to walk. Chris looked back to Martin, giving a dismal but understanding nod.
"I'll be with you every step of the way," Martin consoled.
Chris gave his brother a weak but genuine smile. Attempting to sit up was harder than he expected, it was as if he had become rooted to the ground. Martin recognized his brother's dilemma and gently helped Chris sit up. The movement caused the ground to sway, waves of nausea making him seasick. Chris held a finger out, signaling he needed a second. The familiar feeling of water in his throat could only mean one thing.
Chris emptied the contents of his stomach in one horrendous retch. His body's desperate response to the poisonous substance. He felt Martin pat him on the back for comfort.
Martin kneeled down next to Chris. That was hard to watch. Martin's heart weeped seeing his brother in this state. Chris turned his head towards Martin, eyes tired and distraught.
"It's alright Chris, I know it hurts now but I'm gonna get you out of this, okay?" Martin consoled.
Chris couldn't manage to get words out, mind fuzzy with delirium. Martin took his hand, wrapping Chris's arm around his shoulder.
"You ready?" Martin questioned. Chris nodded.
Getting up, Chris's weight hung dead against Martin. Maybe this wasn't going to work.
"Come on Chris, don't do this" Martin begged. He knew Chris couldn't help it, but Martin feared every minute that passed.
Chris planted his feet on the ground, finding balancing to be very difficult. He shook his head slightly to clear it. Focus. Breathe. Using all the strength he had, Chris managed to stand. With the help of his brother of course.
"That's good Chris, one foot in front of the other" Martin encouraged, taking a tiny step forward.
Chris followed the movement, clinging to Martin for support. They followed with another step, shaky and slow. They continued the process to a slow and steady rhythm.
"That's it Chris, we'll be there before you know it" Martin comforted Chris, attempting to comfort himself as well.
Martin wished Chris would talk more, it would be a lot more reassuring. He glanced at his sibling and wondered if Chris was still inside there. The sight of Chris stirred his uneasiness. His complexion continued to lose color, his eyes rolling closed frequently. Martin's eyes caught a small animal on a tree branch. It was a chameleon. Martin slowed their walking to a stop.
"Chris, look," Martin said pointing to the chameleon, which was slowly crawling across the branch.
Chris lifted his head to view the creature. Upon seeing it, a bit of light returned to Chris's eyes. The corners of his mouth turned up to a faint smile. He looked at the animal with wonder and enchantment. Chris was still in there.
The chameleon turned one of its eyes to look at them, continuing its leisurely journey. Martin saw Chris's smile fade, his eyes glistened, welling up with tears.
Chris's happiness was robbed by grief. Grieving the life he had lived, and the days he wouldn't see. 'But I'm not dead yet!' Chris's head screamed, trying to rationalize. But he had a strong theory that this would be his last day (or hour) on earth. The chameleon, peacefully walking by served as a reminder of the existence he would be leaving behind.
Hot tears threatened to fall from Martin's eyes. He wasn't exactly sure what specifically was making Chris cry, but he didn't need to know. Chris's expression spoke for him. His mind struggled to fight off his devastating worry. Martin turned towards his little brother, wrapping his arms around him. Embracing Chris in a hug. Chris tried the best he could to return the hug, but was too weak to do so.
A tear fell from Martin's eye. He hugged Chris tighter, a sob racked his body. He heard Chris sniffle, letting out a shuddering breath. Though time was running out, Martin couldn't help but linger in the hug. 'This may be my last chance to hug my brother' Martin thought. Another tear ran down his cheek. Martin took Chris's arm again, holding him up again.
A few steps back into their walk, and Chris gradually became heavier and heavier in Martin's arms. Chris tripped and stumbled over his own feet. Martin found himself dragging Chris along in many instances.
The ground was beginning to feel like quicksand. Chris struggled against unconsciousness, his mind going blank, his world going dark for minutes at a time. Little dots dancing around his vision, his head feeling light and airy. His walk faltered. He shivered, his body getting colder and colder. His hearing returned to an echoing buzz. Chris could hear his brother's voice pulsing in and out of clarity.
Martin could no longer ignore that he was dragging Chris across the ground. Chris's legs seemed to have stopped working. Martin stopped walking, Chris's legs giving out as he dropped to the ground. Eyelashes fluttering closed, his body growing limp. Suppressing a scream seemed nearly impossible for Martin. He was terrified.
Martin shook Chris, not too gently, he didn't have time.
"Chris, stay with me bro, you gotta stay awake" Martin pleaded, lightly slapping Chris on the cheek.
The slap to the face prevented Chris from slipping away, becoming more alert. Through the blur he saw Martin over him, begging him to stay awake. That wasn't as easy as it sounded. Chris's body was beginning to feel numb, even taking a breath took too much effort. He felt his body being lifted up, being hoisted onto Martin's back.
Martin held Chris up in the world's most depressing piggy-back ride. Chris's head rested on Martin's shoulder, unable to hold it up. Martin continued the quest, picking up speed. His brother was nearly gone. He ran as fast as he could through the maze of vines and leaves.
Chris rested against his brother, no strength left. The ride was uncomfortable, but it was easier than walking. He appreciated his brother's perseverance, but Chris didn't see survival in his future. The angel of death was catching up with him, Martin couldn't outrun the inevitable.
He was going to die. Chris had reluctantly accepted his fate. Using all the energy he had, Chris leaned back, looking upwards. The trees smiled back at him, the heavenly canopy of green singing an angelic lullabye. Tears pricked at his eyes, he just let them fall. His world became a hazy dream, it seemed to be moving in slow motion.
His strength spent, Chris fell back onto his brother exhausted. He felt a liquid run from his nose, past his mouth, giving him a sample of blood. The corners of his vision closing in, darkness encompassing him.
"G-goodbye" Chris croaked, before he succumbed to the darkness.
Martin halted at the sound of his brother's voice, noticing a red line of liquid running down his shirt. Panic set in. Immediately, Martin lowered Chris to the ground. His little brother fell limp and lifeless onto the forest floor. Tears began to pour from Martin's eyes, eyebrows stitched together in despair. Chris's face was a sickly pale, his lips blue and cold, contrasting with the crimson stain across them. His body completely relaxed.
"Chris!" Martin cried, holding his brother close to him.
Chris was unresponsive, his breathing so shallow it nearly ceased to exist.
"No no no no, Chris don't leave me! Pleaseā¦" Martin sobbed. His hope escaping with every tear he shed.
Martin would give anything to wake up from this nightmare. This couldn't be real! This isn't his time to go! Hot tears clouded his vision, sobs shaking his frame.
"Chris fight!" Martin screamed, shaking Chris in an attempt to keep him alive.
Chris was incredibly still, his pulse fading with every hollow breath. Martin held Chris in a hug, rocking back and forth in lament and panic.
"Don't go, don't go, don't go" Martin repeated, tremulous with distress.
Martin laid Chris back on the ground, kneeling over him. He placed both palms together, pressing forcefully and repeatedly on Chris's chest. Martin refused to give up. Switching from chest compressions to supplying his brother with air. He continued, on and on, but to no avail. Martin stopped compressions, sobbing over his brother's chest. It was no use. He didn't even get to say goodbye.
A faint sound in the distance grew louder, the buzz of an engine.
