This is getting pretty darn depressing. Wow. But it'll get better!
"...so there was that, but did you know you can eat some animals while they're still alive? Like...this one time, my buddy Keith saw this guy eatin' a live squid on TV, so he thought he'd try it out. We went on this fishin' trip on the Gulf, an'..." Ellis had to draw a deep, shuddering breath before continuing his story, something about Dave catching a huge, pissed-off squid and Keith trying to eat it alive with a knife and fork.
Nick could barely hear what Ellis was saying, though he was trying hard to listen. He sat still, stroking Ellis' sweat-damp hair while the boy's head lay in his lap. Mostly Nick watched; watched the mechanic blabber on like nothing had happened, pausing every now and then to run his tongue over his cracked and bloody lips or flash Nick a pained grin.
Coach and Rochelle had long since left the small room and Nick could see them across the way, bickering and gesturing about something. He had a pretty good idea what it was about.
"--these suckers with, like, hooks or some shit on them. An' it started chokin' Keith with its tentacles and like, bitin' at his face with its beak, it was like something out of Aliens or some shit!"
The boy's skin was pale, hot to the touch. His eyes were fevered and bright.
"An' the damn thing jes' wouldn't come off, so me an' Dave started hackin' at it with this huge-ass fishin' knife..."
He paused a moment, his eyes narrowed slightly and his mouth slack in apparent confusion. He stared weakly at the ceiling, then at Nick.
"What was I talkin' about?"
Nick stared back. The confusion on Ellis' face was painful.
"Squid. Attacking your loser buddy."
He was expecting Ellis to bob his head in reply and blabber on some more after regaining his train of thought.
But instead, Ellis still had blank look on his face.
He couldn't remember.
"Oh well...I'll probably 'member the rest later. Oh, did I tell you 'bout this one time, Keith found this desert where they were, like testin' land mines and s--" he stopped in mid-sentence, his body tensing and his teeth gritting together. A violent hiss of pain escaped his lips, small tears prickling beneath his tightly closed eyelids.
"Ellis?" Nick gently patted Ellis' cheek, "You okay?"
"Hooollleee shit, Nick," the mechanic grumbled, keeping his eyes closed, "jes'...man, it ain't...I ain't never felt this bad in my life. Well..'cept fer...'cept fer this one time...when..." he suddenly flipped himself off Nick's lap, landing hard on his hands and knees and vomiting forth a thin stream of bile.
"Ellis, son!" Coach ran up alongside Rochelle, their concern evident, "boy, you okay?"
"Does he fucking look okay, Coach?!" Nick snapped, standing to his feet and shooting a smoldering glare at the older man.
Ellis collapsed at Nick's feet and rolled over to his side, moaning in pain and pressing his palms hard against the sides of his face. His skin was almost blue-gray now in its pallor.
And when had his fingernails become so long and jagged and black? His fingers looked like someone had slammed a door shut on them.
"Nick," Coach breathed softly, watching Ellis in morbid fascination, "we gotta lock him back up. That or--"
"Or what?! Fucking shoot him?!"
"Boys!" Rochelle moaned and shook her head in horror, tears rolling down her cheeks, "don't you say things like that around him! Don't you..."
Beneath them, Ellis cried and yelped and screamed in a keening, high voice that they'd never heard out of him before.
And Nick ran.
He ran despite the calls of his teammates, despite the fact that Ellis was rolling around on the cold floor in what was probably the last human agony he'd ever feel again.
He simply couldn't put up with it.
He ran as far away from the theater as he could, until it felt like his heart was going to explode. Then he sunk down onto the polished concrete floor and leaned his back against the wall, eyes shut tight and blood pounding in his ears.
Coach and Rochelle could deal with Ellis. Coach and Rochelle could take up that gun, put the boy out of his misery. Coach and Rochelle could effectively end Ellis' life with the knowledge that it was for the best, and that would outweigh any guilt they would feel. Coach and Rochelle could do it.
But Nick couldn't. He wouldn't. He wouldn't be there for the beginning of Ellis' transformation, and certainly wouldn't be there for the abrupt and bloody end.
The conman buried his face in his hands and both listened and tried not to listen at the same time. He heard nothing, he was too far away from the theater, but he imagined all sorts of things...yelling and crying and awful screams and...gunshots. And with each imaginary noise, his heart wrenched painfully in his chest because he knew, he knew, he had lost the boy, and would never get him back. This wasn't like one of the several times Ellis had gotten himself knocked off a bridge or pulled away by a Smoker; Nick couldn't pull him up or untangle him this time.
Nick couldn't do anything.
Minutes passed like hours and Nick didn't notice the bright yellow sunlight streaming in through the broken windows until he looked up.
It wasn't morning anymore. Or at least, not the delicate part of the morning where the sunlight was soft and hesitant. No, this was decisive sunlight, strong and proud and gleaming. He didn't know what time it was and didn't care. All he knew was that it must be over by now.
And he'd have to face it.
He lifted himself to his feet and stood still a moment, staring blankly ahead. His stomach gave an odd lurch and he began walking, slowly, the way he had come. The world was in sharp detail; Nick noticed every stray shard of glass, at his feet, every dust mote that floated like memories in and out of the light.
He made his way back to the theater...no...laboratory. The laboratory where sick scientists turned people into zombies, even though there were plenty of zombies to choose from already. Nick refused to believe Ellis would die somewhere as dainty and harmless as an elementary school theater; though he supposed, somehow, it fit.
He passed through the double doors and made his way to the very back. Rochelle and Coach sat on overturned file cabinets, staring at the ground silently. They didn't even look up when he approached.
They stayed like that for a while, silent and somber beneath the dimming lights and the humming electricity. With Ellis gone, Nick didn't think there'd be anyone to break the silence ever again.
But Coach proved him wrong.
"Nicholas...why did you leave?"
"Not sure," Nick admitted, surprised by the carelessness of his own voice. He cared. He cared a goddamn lot. But he had conditioned himself to act like he didn't, and damn, he had done a hell of a job.
"The boy needed you," Coach sighed and shook his head, because he expected that much out of Nick and shouldn't have been surprised, "Nick, come here."
He stood and Rochelle followed, and they stood in front of the red steel door that had held Ellis. Coach lifted the metal pipe that served as a lock and handed it back to Nick, who took it dully.
So they intended to punish him by showing him Ellis' dead body. He probably deserved it. Some sick part of him even wanted to see, to know know that it was really all over.
Coach shoved open the door.
Ellis lay, intact, seemingly asleep on the floor. There was no brain matter splattered on the walls, no chunks of flesh torn off his body by hot bullets. Hell, there wasn't even any blood.
Nick gawked.
"He's okay?"
He moved to approach the boy and his heart jumped into his throat when Ellis whipped his head up and shrieked, eyes blazing and handsome features twisted into the ugly snarl that they all knew too well. Coach and Rochelle were yelling something, but Nick couldn't hear anything other than shrill yelps and his own grunting, because the minute he saw that face, the Hunter's face, he began wailing upon the creature with the length of pipe, raining blow after blow down on its back and head, making it pay for turning Ellis, his Ellis, against him...
"Nick, goddammit, stop!" Rochelle pulled him back with a strength he hadn't known her to possess, and the pipe was ripped away from him by Coach, who brandished it in the air as if restraining himself from using it on Nick. Ellis regarded the pipe weakly, unmoving save for his tongue licking at some of the blood streaming down his face.
"Nick, what the hell you think you're doing!?"
"You didn't kill him?!" Nick cried desperately, staring at them with wild eyes, "you didn't...oh, goddammit, you were supposed to...Jesus!"
"We found some sedatives and needles so we sedated him!" Rochelle's eyes were scrunched up with worry and shining with tears yet again, "you didn't have to beat the shit out of him, Nick! He can't hurt us. He can't hurt us right now."
Nick turned to stare at the boy, who snarled weakly in response. Ellis jerked his legs and arms in an erratic effort to try and back away, and whined with the pain of the movement before giving up and laying still, curled up into a prone little ball on the floor.
"We just couldn't do it," Rochelle said quietly and Nick couldn't blame her, but at that moment he hated her for it.
"He's...not Ellis," Nick said softly. He felt a delicate hand on his arm and Rochelle was looking up at him.
"Nick, you have to look more closely," she murmured and pointed to Ellis, "he...turned, yeah, but he's not like the others. See, his eyes are fine...his skin's a little gray, but nothing like those things we're used to seeing."
Nick's eyes swept over Ellis. It was true, his skin looked unnatural, but there were hints of blush red mixed among the gray. And it was still human skin; uncorrupted and smooth when it should have been split and gnarled and angry.
"He ain't a hundred percent zombie, Nick," Coach said, putting a hand to the gambler's back, "musta been they gave him an incomplete strain...or maybe 'cuz he's immune, his body's fightin' it, I dunno, but he ain't all zombie."
"So...what now?"
"Now," Coach repeated, and shrugged, "now we get some goddamn rest because we all been through too much these past few hours. After that...well, let's just get some sleep first. Plenty of time to decide what we're gonna do."
"All the time in the world," Nick grumbled. They shuffled out of the cell, one by one, and secured the door again, locking the boy up again.
Nick had always joked that Ellis would end up being locked away due to mental illness. Now his jokes came back and stung him. Through the bars of the door, he saw Ellis laying still and silent, chest heaving with labored breaths like a dog who'd been hit by a car and left for dead on the side of the road.
"Come on, Nick," he heard Coach's voice and felt gentle hands pull him away.
Sleep had come quickly once they found a room suitable enough for it; Nick hadn't been expecting that. He had expected to be up for hours, hell, to never sleep again. But he had learned to be able to sleep through a lot. They all had.
It was dark outside when he woke; he could tell by the sunroof centered in the middle of the small room's ceiling. The school's electricity was stilll on; that was a good thing, at least. Near him, he saw the slumbering form of Coach, still and snoring on his pallet. On his other side, Rochelle sat on the edge of her cot, her face in her hands.
Nick was glad she was crying, because maybe she could cry enough for both of them. He watched her, and she must have known he was up, because she spoke in a trembling voice.
"It's just not fair...that poor, innocent little boy...that little angel...just a baby, Nick. Just a kid. How could they...would they still have done it, if they had known...?"
She didn't need to explain for Nick to understand. Would they still have done it if they had known Ellis? If they had known he'd give someone he just met the shirt off his back? If they had known how childlike and naïve and full of life he was? If they had known about the boy's plans, whispered plans in the quiet night about re-opening his auto shop and living with Nick and buying a puppy and naming it Black Jack, in honor of Nick's card fetish? Stupid plans...plans Nick never agreed to...but plans nonetheless.
Nick put an arm around Rochelle and, as he hoped, she cried for both of them.
As always, reviews are appreciated, and thanks for reading! Also, I'm working steadily on my other fics, so do not fear.
