Chapter 5: Revelations

Arnold lay awake that night, thinking about a great number of things. He hadn't participated in any of the conversations earlier, but he'd been listening to Max explaining his whole 'dragon-slaying' thing to Aaron, and the shorter man seemed intrigued by the idea. That is, until he found out the non-existent success of Max's aspirations.

Thinking of this conversation reminded Arnold of the guns they had left on the road a few days back, and he wondered now if that had been the best idea. Surely all of them shooting at once would at least scare the dragon away, right?

Most likely it would just make him mad, his mind's voice said.

Arnold felt a dull ache in his leg and rubbed it a bit with his hand. This reminded him of when they'd had to jump out of the truck, and he closed his eyes. He hadn't been watching where anybody was going. He had still been a little groggy from sleeping when they'd had to jump out and it was only the pain in his leg that really woke him up. He'd forgotten to land on his good leg and the pain had shot up the entire side of his body.

If only the pain hadn't been so bad… He might have seen which way Curly had gone.

Maybe if they'd let the tailgate down instead of climbing over it…

Arnold's train of thought stopped then and rewound itself. We did open the tailgate…

Arnold pictured the truck in his mind the way he had seen it that afternoon. The tailgate had been shut, but he could have sworn they had opened it to climb out.

Eric probably closed it, he thought idly. But why would he bother?

Arnold lay still for a long time, eyes open. Something wasn't right, but he just couldn't put his finger on what.

"Eric?" Arnold whispered to the man laying next to him on the dirt floor.

"Hm? What?" The older man said groggily.

"Did you close the tailgate on the truck after we got out?"

"Huh?"

"The back hatch on the truck, did you close it?" Arnold said a little more urgently.

There was a moment of silence before Eric said: "I don't know."

"Think."

"Uh…No…no, I didn't close it…why?"

Now it was Arnold's turn to be silent, but only for a few seconds before he jumped up off the floor and pulled on his sweatshirt.

"I know where he is!" He said rather loudly as he plunged into the hole that would lead him outside. He could hear Eric and a few other muffled voices shouting to him as he climbed through the hole. He wanted to explain it to them, but for some reason he felt an extreme sense of urgency.

It was pitch black outside and Arnold wasn't aware that he'd reached the end of the tunnel until he felt the chill of the air hitting him on all sides. He leapt to his feet and hurried off in the direction of the road hoping that by running straight he would not get lost. It wasn't long before he found the road and turned left, running as hard as he could. His leg burned with pain each time he put his weight on it, but he paid it little heed. He had to get to the truck.

The chilly air cut through his sweatshirt and nipped his skin. But it was that same wind that moved the clouds across the sky to reveal the moon, which sent a faint blue glow across the landscape.

Arnold could see the abandoned truck in the distance and whispered a silent prayer of thanks to Dr. Brandon's god. He'd been afraid of running right past it in this inky darkness. He stumbled to a stop and wheeled around to the back end of the truck. The tailgate was closed and the cover was pulled down. He pulled the cover back and looked inside, but the moon was veiled once more and he could see nothing. His heart sank.

"Arnold?"

His heart rate doubled at the sound of a small, cautious voice, and a very familiar face became visible in the darkness.

"Curly?" He dropped the hatch down and was about to climb onto it, but he knew in an instant that his leg would never allow it.

As soon as the hatch was down, though, Curly gripped both his arms and looked at him with wide, bloodshot eyes. "Oh, God…" He said breathlessly, almost inaudibly. Had it not been for the darkness, Arnold would have sworn that Curly was crying. He'd never seen such a crazed, shocked look about his friend before.

"I thought…I thought I was the only one left…" Curly choked on his words, and Arnold knew that he was indeed crying. Curly had obviously spent days thinking that they had all been killed and he was the only one still alive, and alone. He put his hands on Curly's shoulders, but where Curly's grip was one of desperate hope and disbelief, Arnold's was one that sent strength and reassurance.

"We're all still here, Curly. We're all alive-"

At that second, Gerald appeared, followed closely by Max. There was exclamations of shock and surprise at seeing Curly alive, and Gerald immediately embraced him. Curly clung to Gerald pitifully as though all three of them would disappear if he let go.

"Are you alright?" This question of concern came from Max, who had one hand on the distressed man's shoulder. Curly nodded as Gerald released him.

"I think…I think my leg's broken."

No wonder he didn't get out of the truck when he first saw me, Arnold thought.

"Let's see." He said.

Curly carefully pulled back his pant leg to reveal a very swollen and out-of-place ankle.

"It's not that bad." Arnold lied reassuringly. "Just your ankle."

"What happened?" Max asked.

"I don't know, I think I stepped in a hole or something."

"Alright, well, let's get you out of here." Gerald said then as he swung Curly's arm over his shoulder and helped him out. Max took his other arm and together they helped Curly to stand. As much as he wanted to help, Arnold was glad that the other two were there to assist Curly instead. He could barely support his own weight, let alone that of another…

Arnold froze for a split second, appalled by the word that had almost crossed his mind.

Cripple.

He'd almost thought of himself, and Curly, as being crippled.

I am NOT a cripple, he thought to himself angrily as he followed the others across the road. He spit on the pavement as though he had actually spoken the word and it had left a vile taste in his mouth. He cast the thought from his mind as they approached the tree line where many of the others waited.

When they arrived back at the shelter, Arnold spent the better part of the evening trying to explain how he'd known that Curly would be in the truck, and apologizing for leaving so abruptly.

It was just a few hours until dawn by the time things settled down again. Since there was nothing with which to splint and secure Curly's ankle with, he was forced to simply endure the pain for the time being. However, the joy of seeing his friends still alive seemed to completely over-shadow any pain he was feeling. He still couldn't walk though, and it was to this dilemma that the topic of discussion inevitably turned when they awoke at daybreak.

They briefly considered taking turns carrying him, but that idea was quickly abandoned. All of them knew the unspoken truth was that Curly would now slow them down and make them very vulnerable.

"I don't think we have a choice, guys." Eric said, looking at Curly with regret. "We may have to leave you here."

"I know." Curly said dejectedly.

"We'll come back for you, of course."

Curly nodded his head. Though he never would have agreed to going with them and putting them all in danger, he hated the idea of being left behind.

After an awkward moment of silence, Jenny began gesturing with her hands.

"She says 'look on the bright side, at least you can stay here with us where you won't be alone'." Aaron translated as Jenny smiled reassuringly. Curly returned the smile, weakly. Her words were truth, and they certainly helped, but only a little.

"Well, guys, let's get ready to head out, then."

As the others gathered their things, Eric spoke to Aaron directly. "I guess it's a good thing we were coming back for you and Jenny, huh?"

"Yeah, no kiddin'."

"Thanks for all your help, Aaron, and for lookin' after Curly for us."

The two men shook hands firmly.

We said our farewells to Aaron, Jenny and Curly and were on our way once more. That was about six days ago, which brings the tally up to about twenty days total. We found a pile of ash and rubble that used to be a toll road plaza, but no decent shelter and no travelers information. Specifically, we were hoping to find something that would help us find a place to live in the country. We needed a specific place to look rather than just search around without any set destination. That would take forever. We've gone over many bridges and been able to see a great deal of the surrounding area, but we just don't have time to search every town.

Arnold gazed up at the mid-morning sky as the group trudged on down the road, this being their 23rd day of travel. The old Arnold would have simply daydreamed the afternoon away beneath a sky so blue, dotted with puffy white clouds. The man that he was now, however, had all but forgotten how to allow himself such an innocent luxury. His trained ears listened for distant sounds as he scanned the horizon. They'd come to an area that was barren and open. Arnold could only guess that it used to be farmland, for it seemed to be plotted in large squares that stretched into the distance, with a patch of trees here and there. Though the trees still held some colored leaves on them, the land was as gray and dead as the city they'd left behind. Arnold knew that he could easily be overtaken by loneliness in a place like this, had he not the companionship of eight other people.

Only eight, he thought, wondering briefly how Curly was getting along.

With his eyes and mind wandering, he didn't notice when Eric motioned for them to stop, and he collided slightly into Misha's back. Misha glanced at him curiously, and Arnold gave an apologetic shrug before looking ahead to where Eric stood. The man had a very set, intense look on his face as he seemed to be listening very hard.

Then all at once he swept his arm over his head at a wide arch and set of at a brisk, quasi-silent run. They all followed him as quickly and as silently as possible with their packs and their weariness in tow.

It seemed an eternity to Arnold before they finally reached a small cluster of trees just off the road a ways where they all dropped to the ground and lay perfectly still, trying not to pant too loudly. Only Misha ventured a question.

"What is it?" His voice was barely audible.

"Dragons."

"Are you sure?"

"No," Eric said after a moment's pause, "but waiting to be sure wasn't an option."

They laid there silently beneath the cover of the trees for a short while, and it wasn't until their heavy breathing had died down that they suddenly heard the rushing of wings in the near distance. It was approaching fast. Arnold found himself wishing that he could sink into the ground and vanish from sight altogether.

The sound grew louder still before a gust of wind shook the trees around them and three gigantic dragons soared overhead. Their aged wings caught the wind with a surprising grace and agility, but this did not deter the mind from their foreboding, hell-bent presence. The mid-day sun shone off their black and red scales as they made their way north.

Arnold heard Gerald release a strained sigh beside him, and he realized he'd been holding his breath and released it abruptly and quietly. It wasn't until the dragons had almost disappeared into the distance that someone finally spoke.

"Looks like you were right." Misha said. "How did you know?"

"I heard them…at least, I think I did. Maybe I just got a bad feeling or something."

"You had a feeling?" Max said skeptically.

"Hey, I got us to safety, didn't I?" Eric snapped.

"Yeah, ok. Sorry." Max said quickly.

They all climbed to their feet, feeling an awkward silence.

"Well, anyway," Gerald said, patting Eric on the back, "look's to me like we got a good man leading this band."

"Yeah." Eric muttered as he swung his pack over his shoulder and started walking. He didn't signal for them to follow him, but they did anyway, some casting concerned glances at each other.

Arnold jogged up beside Eric. "Hey, everything alright up here?" He asked, saying this because he always brought up the rear.

"Yeah, fine, Arnold. I guess I just don't feel too good today."

Arnold hesitated before speaking again. "Anything on your mind?"

"Not really." Eric answered. They walked in silence for a short while before Eric spoke again, startling Arnold a little.

"I guess I'm just tired of being in charge."

Arnold waited silently for Eric to continue, if that was his plan. And it was.

"I'm just not sure I'm the best guy for this job. I mean, look what happened to Curly? If something else had happened…I mean, if we got attacked and one of you died-"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down, man. You know what happened back there wasn't your fault, it wasn't anybody's fault. We all joined this group knowing the risks. Nobody's going to hold you responsible if-"

"I will!"

Arnold was silent for a second, and when he opened his mouth to speak, Eric cut him off before he uttered a word.

"Look, Arnold, I know you're trying to help, and I appreciate it, really. But don't worry about it."

Arnold respectfully said nothing more. As much as he wanted to help, and as much as it was still a part of who he was, he knew Eric well enough to know that he'd better just let it go for now.

Day 25:

We located information at last today. Near the boarder of Indiana and Michigan we found a toll plaza that was still standing, stocked with a wealth of tourist guides and information about the surrounding area. We weren't exactly sure where we were until reaching this place, and I was stunned to learned that we'd traveled so far. Granted, it's taken us almost a full month, but I guess I just didn't expect to come so far from home. The others were aware of this too so we've decided to go no further. With the information we have now, I'm sure we can find a decent place to live. There are a couple different locations we're going to check out, specifically further out in the country.

"Arnold?"

Arnold looked up from his writing. "Hm? What?"

"Are you listening?" Eric was saying with just a slight hint of agitation.

"Uh, yeah, sorry." Arnold said he flipped his notebook shut.

"Anyway," Max started saying again, "I think we came too far. We've come over 600 mile and it took us almost a month. How are we going to get all those people this far without incident?"

"Not counting that many of them are too sick to walk." Evalyn added quietly.

They sat in the kitchen of the toll plaza restaurant, gathered around the stove which, remarkably, still worked. The evening was chilly and the stove was all they had for warmth. They also helped themselves to some food they happened to find, which consisted mainly of bulk canned foods like pickles, chili beans…etc.

"Look, guys. I understand your concern, but we're here now and it's the best place we've found so far. If we'd stopped and searched beyond even a few of those other towns, we might be 300 miles behind and still searching." Eric said, and James nodded in agreement.

"But w are we going to move the consumption patients this far?"

"We'll probably have to make multiple trips-"

"Wait a second, guys!" Misha said suddenly. "This is a toll plaza, right? Can't we just use the gas at the pumps out there? If we could get it to the truck, then we'll use it to haul people back and forth!"

They were silent a moment, pondering this.

"That sounds good to me-" Eric started saying.

"They probably don't work anymore." Max said rather negatively.

"We can try, though." James said.

"Tomorrow. We'll try tomorrow. Even if the pumps don't work, I'm sure we can get to the gas another way." Everyone agreed. "Now, if we do get the truck running again, I think half of us should go back and the rest should stay here and check out these places." He continued, glancing down at the information brochures he held in his hands.

"Shouldn't we wait until we've found a place before going back?"

"Not if we hope to beat the snow." Weitman said, this being one of the few times he actually voiced his opinion.

"He's right, our chances of getting them all here before winter are better if we start as soon as we can." Arnold said.

"Alright. Well, it's getting late. We should hit the sack and continue this discussion in the morning."

"That's the best plan I've heard all day!" Gerald exclaimed.

Arnold woke slowly to a small shuffling sound. At first he thought it was just his imagination, but after a moment or two more, he knew that someone was up and moving around.

More curious than alarmed, Arnold sat up slowly, his muscles groaning in protest. He'd been curled up quite comfortably on one of the cushioned restaurant benches and, though his mind was curious, his body hadn't wanted to be disturbed.

As he eased up into a sitting position, he didn't notice right away that the sound abruptly stopped. He looked around the large area that surrounded the sleeping group, but saw no sign of anybody having been moving around. Everyone was sound asleep.

He sighed, wishing he didn't have such an overactive mind as he flopped back down onto the bench and quickly fell back asleep.

Arnold was jarred from sleep by the sound of a horrific crash. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the post-dawn light, but he instantly saw that he wasn't the only one woken with a start. Two seconds later, the sound of metal hitting linoleum and the pattering of feet sent people jumping to their feet to investigate.

In the kitchen, they found the over door open and a couple pans scattered on the floor. At first, no one said anything, just looked at each other. Max bent down and drew one finger under the edge of one of the pans, staining the finger with something. He examined it closely for a moment before looking at the others.

"It's blood."

Before anyone could respond, there came a small, indistinct sound from the far corner of the kitchen.

Arnold was beginning to wonder if they hadn't taken some of those guns after all.

"The closet." Misha said.

"I think you're right." James whispered as he and a few others moved cautiously in that direction. Evalyn stepped foreword, but Weitman took her protectively by the arm without a word.

Brandishing whatever blunt object they could find, they advanced toward the sound. Arnold felt rather ridiculous holding a metal spatula as a weapon.

They approached a closet door and heard another small sound from within. James motioned for the others to stay back as he reached for the doorknob. He hauled it open and gripped his frying pan, poised to strike at whatever was inside.

The creature in the closet had no intention of pouncing, however. All the men were silent as they stared with wide eyes and dumbfounded expressions.

"What is it?" Evalyn ventured to ask when no one spoke right away, and peered over her husbands shoulder. "Oh my…"

The figure in the closet whimpered and pressed his crouching body against the back wall, both hands covering his head protectively. Blood trickled down his temple and onto his hands. His shorts and t-shirt were tattered and his calloused feet were bare, and he had thick blond hair that reached almost beyond his shoulders.

"What…" Eric stuttered, not entirely sure what to say.

"Where the blazes did you come from?" Max said bluntly.

"Max." Gerald scowled

"You…you took my food…" the boy accused in a small voice, still cowering on the floor, peeking at them through his fingers with one curious eye. No one spoke.

"Oh, you buys are all useless!" Evalyn said suddenly, pushing her way between them to stand in front of the closet door. At her approach, the boy moved closer to the wall, if that were possible.

"Are you alright?" Evalyn asked gently.

He peered at the little woman cautiously for a moment before nodding slightly.

"My name is Evalyn. What's you name?"

"Tyler."

Evalyn smiled brightly at him. "Tyler. What a handsome name."

Tyler didn't smile at her compliment, but he did seem to be warming up to her.

"Yours is pretty." He said quietly, and Evalyn smiled again.

The other man all stood around watching in wonder. This boy was obviously not all there, and yet Evalyn spoke to him as though it were effortless.

As though he were a child.

It was plain to see, however, that this boy was hardly a boy at all.

He can't be much younger than me, Arnold thought.

"Do you want to come out of there?" Evalyn asked, but Tyler shook his head vigorously.

"It looks pretty uncomfortable down there. Are you sure?"

He shook his head again, eyeing the other men warily, and Evalyn caught his gaze.

"Don't be scared of them, they won't hurt you. Their like…big teddy bears."

Tyler looked up at them again, and his eyes locked with Arnolds for just a second, long enough for Arnold to smile at him. Tyler didn't return it. Evalyn reached out a hand to him. "Come on, Tyler, you don't want to stay in there."

Tyler looked at her outstretched hand, then at the men standing behind her, then at her smiling face, then back down at her hand. He reached out and carefully placed his own hand in hers. It was stained with a little blood, but Evalyn didn't seem to mind as she carefully pulled him to his feet and out of the closet.

"Hold still now, honey." Evalyn was saying as Arnold cleaned the cut on his head and applied antibiotic ointment.

"You have a weird face. Did you used to do drugs?"

Tyler's bluntness almost made Arnold drop the ointment tube. It wasn't the first outlandish accusation he'd made about one of them, but Evalyn warned them not to take offense. Tyler didn't know any better, he was just curious. He seemed to trust no one but her.

"No, sweetheart, Arnold never did drugs." Evalyn said quickly.

"Drugs are bad. My brother did drugs once, and mom sent him away."

Both Arnold and Evalyn were quiet a moment, then Evalyn spoke. "Those are burn scars. Arnold fought a dragon."

Tyler looked back at Arnold, mouth agape. "Really?"

Arnold nodded and held up his gnarled hand. Tyler stared with wide eyes, his mouth still hanging open. "But…no one fights dragons…everybody dies."

"Not everybody." Evalyn said with a smile.

Tyler reached out and touched Arnold's misshapen hand carefully as though mesmerized.

"Dragons are evil." He whispered, as though talking to himself.

"Yes, they are." Evalyn said.

"You guys are heroes, though. You fight them."

"We just do what we can to stay alive, that's all. We don't try to fight them."

Tyler was looking straight into Arnold's eyes now, and it made him a little uncomfortable.

"But you do fight them, that makes you a hero."

Max walked up to them then, interrupting. "Eric wants to move out, are you coming?"

"Where?" Arnold asked, breaking away from the boy's vivid green eyes and looking at Max.

"Out to scope that military school."

"No, I'm gonna stick around here and help James with the gas."

"Alright."

"You're all leaving?" Tyler asked.

"No, some of the guys are going to find a better place to live." Arnold answered him.

"Really? Can I go, too?"

"Well, not yet. They're just going to look. They'll come back for us when they find a place.

"I'm glad you guys came, I don't like it here. People get sick here."

Evalyn and Arnold looked at each other. "Sick?" Arnold asked.

"Yeah, real sick. I've been sick a bunch. And the baby died."

"Baby?"

"Yeah, my baby. I'll show you-" Tyler jumped from his chair and made for the exit, Evalyn and Arnold hurrying to keep up with him. They followed him outside and across the expanse of dead grass that served as a 'nature walk' for people stretching their legs after a long drive. Tyler led them past a few plastic picnic tables to a small mound in the center of the park. At the head of the mound stood a long wooden spoon with a ribbon tied around it like a flag.

"This is my baby. He's dead now." Tyler said quietly. "It gets cold here when winter comes, and he got real sick. I got sick, too, but I didn't die.

Arnold and Evalyn stood there by the little grave feeling very awkward, speechless, and quite sad.

"How old was he?" Evalyn asked gently.

"Don't know. He was still wearing diapers when I found him, and he couldn't talk. Just cried a lot, 'specially when he was sick. He cried a lot when he was sick."

"You found him?" Arnold couldn't help but ask.

"Yeah, in a minivan. His parents got ate by dragons and I saved him. I loved him a lot…" Tyler trailed off, deep in his own thoughts. Evalyn pulled her thread-bear sweater closer around her, and Arnold noticed then just how chilly it was.

"We should go back inside now." He said, trying to brake the awkwardness, and Evalyn nodded. She linked her arm in Tyler's, carefully at first. He took her arm in return as though it were normal, and they started back inside. Arnold marveled at this, wondering how Evalyn was able to so easily relate to someone like Tyler.

The search team turned up nothing that first day, and they returned disheartened.

"The town was completely flattened." Gerald told Arnold.

"Meh, we're looking for open country anyway."

"Well, we'll find it here, that's for darn sure." Misha added from a few feet away as he dropped his bag on a bench. "Surrounding the town was nothing but empty fields as far as the eye can see."

Arnold felt a slight swell of relief. He knew that this was a far as they could go, and if Misha was correct, he hoped it would be far enough. He didn't want to have to backtrack.

"Any luck with he gas?" Misha asked then.

"We got some from the pumps, but not much. We tried to get it from underground, but the opening is bolted pretty tight." Arnold answered.

"Will it be enough to get the truck back to the city?"

"Oh, yeah. We should be able to make at least one trip there and back." Arnold said.

"Just one?" Gerald said, his disappointment mimicked on Misha's face.

"It should be enough to transport all the sick ones. That's really all we need it for." Arnold confident tone seemed forced, as though he himself wasn't entirely reassured by his own words.

"Sick ones? You're bringing sick people here?" This was said by Tyler, who hurried over to Arnold with wide, panic-stricken eyes.

"Not the kind of sickness you're thinking of, Tyler. You can't catch it, you'll be fine." Arnold reassured him. However, that trace of fakeness still laced his voice. Even though Dr. Brandon had said it wasn't a contagious disease, the fact that it seemed to have been spreading throughout the community led Arnold to doubt the doctors words.

Tyler didn't seem too convinced, either.

"How can you be sure? I get sick real easy. Are you sure?"

"It's not contagious, ok, kid?" Max blurted somewhat gruffly from where he'd stretched out on a bench.

"I'm seventeen years old." Tyler told him matter-of-factly. Max only grunted and turned on his side, away from them.

Arnold looked at Gerald. "What's with him?" He whispered.

Gerald only shrugged. "I don't know, man. He just gets like that sometime.

That, unfortunately, was a mood that Max maintained for the remainder of the evening, so no one bothered him.

A/N: Ok, I know for some of you the whole thing with Tyler was probably irritating in it's appearant pointlessness. However, I feel that it's neseccary to have new faces pop up during their journey because, based on the movie, it's only been a few years since the dragons attacked and there are still quite a few people left in the world. This will be made evident later, but for now I have to stay true to the fact that there is not going to be alot of rapid dragon activity in the barren stretches of farmland in states like Pennsilvania, Ohio and Indiana, hence the ability of random people to survive in random places.

Hope this doesn't bother people too much. To make things easier, I've stuck with the whole "bio's at the beginning" thing, which I will do for Tyler in the next story. Thanks for stiking with me, guys!