Disclaimer: I don't own Left 4 Dead
Among The Bodies: Library
I slept peacefully, without interruption. The entire night my mind was filled with images of the past. I remember seeing Bill's face, smiling as he flicked his ashes away or hearing my dad's laughter as he watched me repeatedly hit the brakes the first time I drove a car. And the first time I nearly crashed it. Not a sweet memory, but one I thought fondly of.
The night went on and it wasn't until I felt the morning sunlight run across my eyelids that I woke. Without opening them, I rolled over to my side where the back of the couch was covering my face. Now that no light was burning my eyelids, I could continue to sleep, a much needed reward I say I deserved.
A few minutes passed before my luxury was disrupted. The sofa was tipping.
My eyes flew open and I had just enough time to brace myself before the back of the sofa hit the ground with a solid thud. Shaking my head from my rude awaking, I glared at the culprit.
The hunter was two feet away, a grin plastered across his face. His hat he had forgotten the night before sat slightly sideways atop his head. I sighed. "You could have just, I don't know, poked me or something." I groaned picking myself up. The couch was a better resting place than the floor, yeah, but I had gotten used to sleeping on hard surfaces. My body didn't recognize the foreign feeling of 'soft'.
Standing up, I dusted myself off. An entire sandstorm erupted as the sofa hit the floor, covering in a blanket of it. I patted myself down, eyeing Aaron out of the corner of my eye. He grinned, and I made note to add another dose of 'revenge' to the to-do list, which was getting to long to keep up.
I reached over and flicked his cap back into its correct position. The sudden movement caused him to flinch slightly. He snarled and I rolled my eyes. "Oh hush," I mumbled. "How long were you up, huh?" I questioned, not expecting an answer. The infected's snarl disappeared, and he gave a halfhearted shrug. So he just woke up and decided he needed company. Fantastic.
I walked across the room and peered out of the window. The sky was a deep blue, the sunrise over the horizon shining through the glass. Rubbing my eyes as they adjusted to the light, I pondered on yesterday's events.
Philippe had made it clear that the library was a place worth checking out. But he didn't state what I was going to find in there, not to mention I have no idea how I was going to break into such a heavily guarded place anyway. My cover had been blown, and as human as Aaron seemed a glance at his claws and hell would break loose. Not to mention my big mouth, smooth talking wasn't easy.
It could be a trap as well, seeing as how I got this information from a total stranger who shoved a gun to my face the first time we met. I glimpsed at Aaron's shoulder, the spot where his shirt had torn. Yeah, let's not forget that either. But it was a lead. Until recently we've just been wondering the streets looking under rocks.
I thought back to what I saw on the rooftops, the ant sized men I spotted walking around the building. A lot of guards meant something very important was being held in there, or someone. It could serve as the 'city hall' or perhaps the 'headquarters' of Paradise, hell if I know. The only issue was getting inside. When I can do that, then I can care about what's in it.
I looked down at myself. My jacket was left back at the radio tower. I was clad in Doug's T-shirt; though I think I've worn it enough to call it mine now. Rolling up the sleeves to my elbows, I looked pretty decent. I could pass as a citizen. The only unusual thing about me was the combat boots, but it was a lot less strange then running around barefoot.
A light bulb was flickering in my head. I turned to Aaron. "Hey" I called, distracting him from tracing the dust on the floor. I eyed his wardrobe. Plain black shirt, cargo pants and sneakers, add his cap. Nothing unusual. If he tried, he might be able to pass as a citizen too. He's done before, though he didn't enjoy it.
"Put your hands in your pockets." I ordered. He tilted his head, confused. I shoved my own hands into my jean pockets, feeling both guns on my fingers. Say yes to deep pockets. "Like this" I urged, trying to get him to mimic my actions. He stared, before standing up to full height. He patted his pants leg, as if trying to understand.
I nodded. "Pockets," I patted my own to show him. He snuffed, fumbling with his hands. I rolled my eyes and grabbed his wrist. He gave protest, but I shoved his right hand into the first pocket. "Keep your hands…" I took his other hand and repeated, barely missing his claws. "Here. Do you think you can do that?"
The hunter looked down, baffled at why his hands had suddenly disappeared. He's used his hoodie pockets before, was he really that detached? I stepped back and looked him over. I tried to imagine as if I was a normal citizen and he just passed me by on the street. He looked human, especially from a distance. Just as long as nobody touched him, he'd be fine.
I had a feeling he was going to hate this.
I smiled, feeling satisfied. "Ok, so…" I trailed off, pieces my plan together with words. "Go to the library, and figure it out from there. Sound good?" I asked him, though in reality I was talking to myself. Still, this way it sounded a little less crazy. His mouthed thinned in disagreement. His eyes may have been hidden, but he was clearly not too happy.
"Don't give me that look." I muttered. "You're the one that decided to wake me up, some you must be eager to go, huh?" I grinned, hands on my hips. With a smirk, I turned my back and ran down the stairs, hearing him following a moment later. He hesitated at the top step, before walking down as I did. I take it he usually crawled down these sorts of things, and walked up straight was still a work in progress.
I made sure to walk carefully over the broken glass still lying around the floor. As I reached the door, I waited for him. He simply sauntered over, ignoring the crush beneath his shoes. My smirk disappeared and I frowned. "Now what if glass had gotten into your shoe, huh?" I teased, and he remained blank.
Swinging the door open, I look to my left and right before setting a foot outside. It was warm, warmer than yesterday but a wind blew through my hair and tickled my neck, reminding me of how much colder it was going to get if we didn't get moving soon. Aaron stood statue still had the breeze passed us. "Ugh, can't you feel that?" I mumbled as I walked down the porch stairs.
The hunter caught up to me, denying an answer. "It's like you're an alien or something…" I wondered out loud. An alien, puppy, toddler. Yep, that sums him up just about right. Wait, it's missing something. What a word for something that is overly aggressive and hates society?
Speaking of society, people moved around us, obviously too busy in their own lives to care enough and look over to us as we silently passed by. There wasn't a crowd, but still a decent amount of people. Mostly adults in uniforms, plumbers, aprons and even electrician passed by. Heading off to work, I suppose?
A woman carrying a heavy purse rushed by us, coming dangerously close to Aaron. He bit his lip as she passed by without so much as a word. I noticed he was close to me, attempting to avoid any other human contact. Helpful, since anyone could discover his infection and draw attention, but he also did the same thing about a day ago, when we first arrived.
I kept my hands to myself, glaring at the store windows as we passed by them. Social anxiety? Whatever it was, he obviously wanted to keep his interaction with the living world as thin as possible.
Something caught my eye and I slowed my pace, falling behind the hunter a few steps. He noticed my sudden change in movement and copied, also following my line of eyesight to see what I found was so distracting. He found it, having a similar reaction to mine.
Two infected stood in a store window, or really, were trying to stand. It looked as if their knees would buckle any second now. Both glanced at us with tired, glazed eyes. Their mouths moved as if to cry, but the movement was so small I took it their jaws were stiff. They were incredibly skinny, skinnier than a normal infected should have been. Definitely hadn't of had anything to eat in a while.
Their skin looked sicker than normal, covered in bruises from head to toe. I eyed one of their ankles, a dark mark burned across the skin. The brand looked painful, black against the ill colored skin. They were both clad in a raggedy dirty t-shirt and shorts, barefoot. On one of their faces, I noted how her nose was bent unnaturally to the left, clearly broken. The other didn't look any better.
It didn't help that they were both children.
I swallowed my emotion and turned away. There was nothing I could do for them without getting caught. Besides, even if they were free, wouldn't they just attack us? How are they any different from the infected outside of these walls? Still, they shouldn't be sold like cattle, even if they have the minds of animals.
I glanced at Aaron, glaring at his feet as we walked away. Not animals, but not human.
The rest of the walk to mid-down was uneventful, aside from a few close calls from the locals. All I had to do was smile and wave, not accustomed to the friendliness. Aaron kept him head down, gritting his teeth whenever someone came a bit too close.
A steep path of steps led to the front library doors, men and women minding their business as they trot passed. I stared at the ground for a moment, hesitating, before making my way up to the large chestnut colored doors. On either side of them, two officers eyed me with suspicion, but kept their mouth shut. I followed one of their eyesight's down the stair, aimed directly at Aaron.
The disguised hunter stared blankly at the challenge ahead, cautiously taking the first step. I noted on how this was his first time walking up the stairs, not crawling, and he was actually smart enough that crouching down on all fours would of sent off alarm bells.
He joined me at the top, ignoring the distrustful stares of the officers. A male voice spoke from behind one of the mask. "He shy or something?" he asked, obviously trying to insult more than trying to sound concerned. I smiled at the man, "He's not a people person." A normal answer, nothing strange about not being a people person.
I remember back in college days, I would rather spend a night in a dark room with only a screen to light my dorm. I hated going outside, and only attended the classes when I knew I didn't have a choice. Sure, I had friends, but they didn't understand my need for independence. I was definitely a loner when times were easy.
The officer said no more, looking away and tending to his post like he should have been. I swallowed thickly, reaching out to open the doors. I inwardly winced at the creak of the wood, quickly stepping inside. Once we were in, the door shut behind us with a thud, leaving us with little to work with in terms of reaching our goal. It was like playing hide and go seek, I suppose.
Aaron looked up for once, sniffing the air. This motion made my own senses come to life, a scent rushing to fill my nose. I took a whiff of the warm air. The aroma was a mixture of bleach, ink, and cheap air freshener. The flowery fragrance overlapped the inky and bleach odor, not really something pleasant. If my nose was suffering, I wonder how Aaron's heightened senses were doing.
As if to answer me, a small cough was heard beside me. I gave a reassuring look, since it was the only help I could offer at the moment. Now if only we had telepathic communication, that would just, be dandy.
I took a moment to fully take in the appearance of the room, doing my best to ignore the smell. It was large, with an open upstairs that once could simply look down or leap over the rails to the bottom floor. There weren't many rows of shelves, since the walls had shelves nailed to them, but the few that were separate and were empty. Instead, stacks of paper, and even bags were littered across the room. A neat mess, for lack of better words.
There were lights, hanging from the ceiling and the occasional lamp now and then. I spotted a woman, seating neatly behind desk. In her perfectly filed nails, I spotted a blue leash. I followed the blue till it led to the neck of a small, shivering form semi-hidden underneath the desk.
I frowned, gritting my teeth. Aaron simply chose not to show a reaction, looking away from the frail mass of bones. The witch looked up from her silent sobbing for a moment, before clutching her face in her declawed hands in another round of tears. Heartbreaking and cruel, but there was nothing I could do. At least, not yet.
The woman seemed to glance up from her paperwork, and with a dull glance, she motioned for me to approach. I smiled, putting up the friendliest, most harmless façade I could manage. It was easy for me, all I had to do was play clueless. Aaron, on the other hand, seemed more like he would rather of rid of the woman before anything else.
With a warm smile still plastered on my face, I took a single step towards the desk. Sirens suddenly blared from every direction.
The sudden noise erupting from plain quiet was deafening. My hands flew in my ears in attempt to stop the ringing; my head was already swirling in nauseous motion from the unwelcome headache. Dispite my hands covering my head, I could still hear the sirens clear as day. My eyes were clenched shut. I struggled to open one, shocked to see a red tint cast across the room.
The pain for Aaron was worse. His claws flew to his skull, clawing at his eyes partly hid by his hat. Suddenly, he let loose a feral screech, filled with agony, anger, and eagerness. He took off before I could have any say. When I finally had the ability to pry my eyes open again, I caught him hanging off the side of a railing, snarling at the officers that had bombarded inside, aiming heavy artillery precisely.
They rushed past me, for the moment ignoring my existence. I heard something slam and lock behind me. The door was locked, and the only option we had was to run. But everything was happing so fast, the ambush was coming in so quick that I didn't even have time to consider it.
The room was filled with men and women clad in black uniforms, all aiming their sights at me. Distracted, I went unaware of the danger, standing frozen as I watched Aaron leap from wall to wall, nearly missing full clips of bullets. I was so focused on him, I didn't feel any other senses until something small and sharp pierced my neck.
I gasped, clutching the spot where the dart had landed. The needle like dart had dug into my skin; I could feel a trickle of blood flowing down my collarbone, barely reaching my shirt. With wide eyes, I scanned around myself. I was surrounded, the dart was buried too deep to rip out without tearing my flesh off in the process, and the room was becoming very blurry at an increasingly alarming rate.
I fell to the floor on my side, frozen and barely conscious. My sense of touch was gone, my entire body numb within seconds. Using the best of my slowly dying vision, I spotted a detector to the side of the door among the fuzzy shapes and colors that seemed to blend together. A device they use to detect shoplifting attempts.
Suddenly, my vision was gone, and so was my sense of smell. I wouldn't have missed the bleach, flowery stench, the ink or the smell of freshly spilled blood that pooled together underneath the librarian's desk. But I didn't appreciate the black canvas that had covered every corner of my sight. Or maybe it was white, to be honest, I don't even remember.
My hearing was the last to go, and with it echoed the shrieks of outraged infected, both of hunter and witch origin.
A clang of metal on metal rang in my ears and I sat up with lighting speed, covering them. Gritting my teeth I waited until the ring faded away to unclasp my ears. I opened my eyes, regretting as a bright white flashed across them. I shut them tight again, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the light behind their protective eyelids.
There was a hand on my shoulder, and a male voice calling out to me but I shrugged them both off instantly. I had no clue where I was, or what was going on. I needed to collect myself first.
Another male voice joined the other. The first sounded angry, the other amused. A third, more feminine voice joined the crowd and my head began to pound. Groaning, I opened my eyes.
Spotting the hand that tried to support me, I followed it to its owner. I blinked twice to make sure I still wasn't delusional.
Doug was blurry, as was Olive. She knelt beside him and I, watching as her husband shouted curses at the stranger behind the bars. Wait, bars?
I blinked again and the fuzziness began to fully cease. The room looked as if we were in a former police station, and the bars belonging to the holding cell, the very one I was now trapped in. A single light bulb hung from the ceiling giving off not a lot of light, but the white paint of the room was causing it to be unbearably blinding.
Another metallic ring and I turned to glare at a sharp suited man grinning at us behind the bars. In his hands he held a ring of keys, hitting them against the jail repeatedly. He caught sight of my awakened state and smiled, gold teeth glinting.
"You're awake! Good, good…" He trailed off, stuffing the keys back inside his pocket.
I swallowed thickly, staring harshly at the overweight man. "Who are you?" I questioned. My voice cracked ever so slightly, and as I spoke a small tingle ran up my neck. Rubbing my skin with one free hand, my fingers brushed over a small hole in my skin. A flashback of the dart raced through my mind.
The large man, still smiling, watched as I tried to pull myself together. "Oh, there's no need for an introduction. It's not like we'll see each other much longer anyways." He chuckled, walking away from the cage. I felt something dribble down my chin and I wiped it on my sleeve, putting the distraction aside.
The man pulled the keys from his pocket again, twirling them atop his fingers for us to watch. I sat fully upright now, glaring harshly. "The hell is that supposed to mean?" I spat. To my right, I heard Doug's booming voice. "Shut ya damn mouth pudgy boy!" He hollered.
He only smirked at my distress. "I'm done here, now that you're awake," He muttered. "I'll see you three in an hour, in the meantime; have a chance to catch up." He began to walk towards a door, located on the far left side of the room. "You won't get another one." The door slammed behind him.
The sudden rush of events and the severity of them run circles in my head. My head was already pounding as it was, and it was only getting worse by the minute. I looked to my right, where Doug sat beside me.
The only way I knew how to respond was to lunge and embrace him. I hugged them both, ignoring the fact that they both smelled of dried blood. They smiled, and my chest felt a wave of relief and shot term joy. Doug's beard was tousled and unkempt, just as dirty as Olive's hair, but the only thing that mattered at the moment was that they were alive, breathing and living.
I pulled away when I realized that Doug had only been holding me with one arm.
The joy felt from only a moment earlier vanished, and in its place a feeling of guilt and pity replaced it. My heart dropped and it went silent. Olive looked down to her dress, picking off measly specks of dirt across the fabric. My eyes began to water and my immediate reaction was to apologize, but he silenced me before I could.
He clutched the stump of his arm. "It's nothin, Bub." He reassured, a soft look painted across his features. "Ain't nothing in the world gon put me down. I tell ya I've been through a lot worse than this." He smiled, putting his free hand on my shoulder in a show of comfort. In a moment of unease, I glanced at Olive. The red in her eyes and face was a clear show that she had been crying recently.
I swallowed thickly. "When…did it happen?" I stuttered, unable to look him in the eye. He thought for a moment, also sparing a short glance at his wife. "That ain't important. What's real important right now it that ya livin, and we both livin with ya. Now ain't that-"
He cut himself off. Whether it was because he had run out of words to say or he saw the tears fall from my cheeks, I don't know. But all I could do was shake my head in denial. "Oh god," I whispered. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-"
"It ain't ya fault, Bub! Listen to me!" He demanded. I blinked through teary eyes, but brought my head back down again, unable to look him in the face. I felt two arms circle around me and I clutched Olive's hands as held me. "Zoey, I need you to listen to us, just for a minute." She whispered, her soft voice reminding me of my own mother's.
"Why? Why should you explain anything?" I choked out, eyeing the missing limb. Even the sleeve that had covered the arm had been cut away, like there was no compassion to it. "That's my fault! If you hadn't of gotten caught, you'd be at home right now! Safe!" I pulled away from her, and she stared at me in a mixture of shock and hurt. My chest swelled with unpleasant feeling.
"Ya didn't get us captured, Bub." Doug interrupted, grunting as he stood to full height. "Them fools were lookin for us for quite a while, it was only a matter of time before they found us." He held a hand out to Olive, helping her stand as well. I could still see the hurt on her wrinkled face from my perspective on the floor.
"I left you alone" I started, my tone rising as I spoke. "Maybe if I had stayed in that cabin with you, we wouldn't be in a situation like this-"
"If you had stayed, they would have killed you first." Olive stated her demeanor suddenly cold. Her sudden change of attitude took me back, but I lept up to lash out again. "You don't know that. I could have helped you, prevented this somehow." I yelled, clenching my fist.
Doug sighed. "No, ya couldn't have. There was just too many of them, Bub. And they don't know ya," He halted. "Ya would have been shot on sight." He ended, as if the argument was won.
Grinding my teeth I tried to stand, clutching the nearby bars for support. Olive watched me struggle and lent out a hand, and I seriously considered swiping it away. "You came back for us, Zoey." She murmured. "You didn't leave us for dead. You don't need to ask for forgiveness for something you didn't do."
"But I did." I drawled out, resisting the urge to bury my face in my hands. "I left you to get captured; I killed people to get here, and for what? To get captured myself?" Hoisting myself up, I looked them dead in the eye. Doug was on the end of his nerve, while Olive looked ready to collapse from the weight of the situation. "How can I help you if I'm stuck in here with you?"
Doug sighed, standing tall dispite his weekend state. "Now listen here Bub, I'ma say this once and I hope it's understood. Ya ain't done nothin wrong but holler and whine just cause an old man lose an arm that wasn't no good anyways. Ya been kicking ass ever since I dragged ya out from the city but you can't do nothing if ya keep moping around feeling sorry for yourself. Yeah, we got caught but if ya had been there they wouldn't even have let ya live another second. They shoot first, ask questions later." He took a breath. "To tell the truth, I ain't sure how ya even figured we had been brought here anyhow. Anybody else would have just thought we disappeared off the face of the earth."
The sudden rise of authority in the room was off putting. I wiped my wet face until it was dry, hating on how my shirt's sleeves were now covered in hell knows what. "I met…" I paused, sniffing. "People, in the forest that day. They told me you were taken here." Doug nodded. "And?" "They wanted me to come with them, but I didn't. I just took their map and…" I hesitated, my mind following back to Tanya's death. The image of her hollowed out throat filled my mind and I shook it away.
Olive narrowed her eyes. "Why? Why would they want you?" Doug too, furrowed his brows, as if to ask the same question. I shrugged, shaking my head and working to sooth my now raw throat. "I-I don't know. They just snuck up on me and ask me I was and there was two of them and they saw Aaron so I guess-"
Aaron. Oh holy fuck, Aaron.
An audible gasp from Olive was heard. Doug nodded grimly. "They mistook ya for a tamer, huh." He thought for a moment. There was a familiar feel of the urge to vomit creeping up my throat, the thought of me leave Aaron alone and in danger was sickening. I hunched over, hands on my knees, fighting back a sob. It's with my head down in this position I see Doug's last hand, and what's written on the back of it.
Slowly, I pointed at it. "How did…" Doug followed my finger's direction, lifting up his head to examine. "Oh this?" He rotated his palm, staring dully at it. "They've been doing it to everybody that's come in contact with the infected, their own little way of determining who's immune and who's not." He stated, as if it was just a casual fact that everyone should know. As if to further prove his point, Olive lifted her own right hand, and on her delicate finger's the word CLEAN.
I glared at the print, unsure of how to make of it. Suddenly aware of my own hands, I fumbled with them clumsily. Cracking my knuckles, rolling my wrist until I heard a small pop from each bone. I swallowed thickly when I realized that it wasn't just their skin that had been printed on. "…Clean means immune, right?" I asked nervously.
The couple glanced to each other. "Yes…" With their response, I held the hand up for them to see. "Then what does the Biohazard sign mean?" I inquired, my heart plummeting for the millionth time that day as I watched their faces drop. Doug began to stutter, before hushing up. Olive was the one to finish for him. "We…don't know." She babbled. It was clear that she did not expect for me to have it, which wasn't necessarily a good sign.
Panic invaded me. "Is that bad?" I asked, my pitch a little high. "I don't know, sweetie, I just don't know." She repeated, clutching her husband's shirt for emotional comfort. Doug, noticing both his wife's and my own state of distress, blew a puff of air. It seemed like he hasn't been able to smoke in a while. "Bub, where's Aaron?" I shook my head, doing my best to remember.
"I don't know." I answered, and Doug gave me a look telling me to continue. "We came here to find you, we were hidden, you know, disguised. But we got caught, and I was thrown in here and I don't-" I caught my breath. "They used some sort of tranquilizer on me, the last I remember he was being chased down by a shit ton of armed men." My rubbed the bags under my eyes. That refreshing hours of sleep I had to keep me energized were gone now, replaced by a dose of exhaustion and stress.
"Well, they used a tranquilizer on you, why not on him?" Olive said, attempting cheer me up, even if just by the slightest. I shook my head. If he's already killed someone, who says Paradise is suddenly going to have a heart of gold and forgive?
"Zoey…" Doug began, his tone of voice serious. I piped to attention best I could, he never used my actual name. "Are you are carrier?" Olive turned to stare at her husband, as if he just asked something extremely rude. It became silent in the jail cell. I took a deep breath and prepared to explain myself.
The door open and I shut my mouth immediately. The same pudgy man from before walked in, carrying something in a white plastic cup. The smell of coffee rushed through my nose, sending a burst of alertness through my senses. I can't remember the last time I had coffee. Needless to say, back in the day I was a coffee addict, drinking the caffeine every chance I got whether it be morning or in the middle of the night. I went through terrible withdrawal when the apocalypse began.
The man, noticing how my eyes followed the cup, smiled and waved it around, parading it. I snapped my attention from the coffee to him, debating on whether or not I should reach out and flip the cup over in his hands. My arms were skinny enough to reach through the bars, but not long enough.
He laughed, taking a victory sip. Suddenly, he spat out the liquid, panting and holding out his tongue. It was a red, swollen color and a bit of steam came from his mouth, as well as the coffee that was now sadly spilled all over the floor. A small smirk danced on my lips as I watched him fumble to cool his burning mouth.
He glared up at me with beady little eyes. "And just what are you smiling about, bitch?" He sauntered up to the edge of the bars, leaning in closer to my face. "Wipe that shit grin off your face before I come in there and smack it off ya." I leaned backwards, disgusted by the smell of his breath. The coffee had done nothing for him. He smelled of alcohol and something else I don't even want to describe.
The look of repulsion on my face replaced the smile, and I guess he took it as me being obedient. The man grinned, backing away from the bars. Olive hid behind Doug, who simply stared at the man, waiting. I covered my mouth and nose, trying to dispel the smell of his breath away from my face. The stranger eyed this. "What's the matter, eh?" He cooed. "Feeling a bit sick?" He chuckled, eyeing the Biohazard sign printed on my hand. "It's what you get for hanging around filthy, infected, scum."
"It's your yuck mouth teeth that made the poor girl sick."
The stranger whirled around to face Doug, keys jingling in his pocket with the movement. I sent a questioning glance towards the couple, hoping for an answer, but Doug had locked eyes with our keeper and Olive looked as clueless as I was.
The man appeared to huff, and assume what I guess was his 'tough and big man' stance. In reality, he looked similar to a puffer fish. "I suggest you shut your mouth, cripple, before I make sure you have no teeth." He threatened. Though his threat was macho, his body language was not. He took a step back away from the cage, small, but not unnoticed.
"And I suggest ya hush up, boy, before this 'cripple' kicks your ass." Doug taunted, a smirk daunting his features. I have no idea what he was planning, but whatever it was he seemed confident that it would work. I gulped, hoping and waiting to see where this goes.
Olive, still unaware of what was going down, patted her husband's shoulder in attempt to calm him. I pulled her behind me, furthest away from the bars and the two men. Putting my index finger over my lips, I made the universal 'shhh' sound. She seemed to take the hint pretty quickly.
"Shut your fucking mouth, you lowly piece of scum. Don't you know who I am?"
"Somebody who's bout to get his fat ass kicked by an old, disabled man. Pathetic."
The sharp suited man, now visibly enrage, took large booming footsteps towards the cage. He leaned forward and pointed a finger at Doug's unimpressed face. "Now, listen here you little piece of shit. You and your little whore are going down to trail, while this bitch-" He swung his hand and pointed at me. "Is going to be fed to the new livestock, you hear?"
Doug nodded. "Loud and clear." With one swift movement, he reached out from the bars and grabbed the back of the man's head by his hair. The man, too much in shock to do anything simply flailed his limbs as his head was bashed against the cage. Each impact against the metal created the same ringing sound I awoke to, and hence returned the dreaded headache.
Olive, obviously not used to such brutality, hid her face in my shirt. I placed a hand on my back, comforting her until Doug was finished.
Blood was flowing freely down the bars now, creating a small pool on the floor. Doug held it upright and motioned me to the body. "Bub, the keys." With one hand still wrapped around Olive, I reached down into the suit's pockets, and pulled out the first metallic thing my fingers wrapped around.
I pulled it out and eyed it carefully. It wasn't the keys, but still something worth keeping. It was a knife, probably my knife that was taken from me when I had passed out. I clipped it to my belt, searching again in the other pocket. The body dropped as soon as I pulled out the keys.
Letting go of Olive, I fumbled with the lock and keys until one of them fit, and the door opened. Doug, now having access to the man's body without the restraint of the cage, looted him for all he was worth. I stared blankly as he pulled off the two pistols off the man, the same one I had before. He handed one to Olive, settling one for himself. "Think ya can handle a blade, Bub?" He asked me, "We got your back, of course."
I nodded. They needed the guns more than I did right now. Though I wasn't sure how well Olive could fire a gun, something tells me that she just wasn't the kind of woman who would do well in a close combat fight. As for Doug…
I bit my lip, a habit I thought I had planned on stopping. He was at a 'disadvantage'.
We gathered around the steel door, unsure of our next course of action. "So" I began. "What do we do now?" Olive seemed to relay my question with a glance. Doug checked the condition of his gun, blowing out imaginary smoke. "We're leaving."
*emerges from rock*
Time: 1:36 AM. My classes are done. I'm also done moving. My writer's block is dead. I killed it. With a hammer. A jack hammer. So yes, this story should start picking up more in the action-y parts and so on. I'm not good with angst, so I tried my best to create a lovely reunion between Zoey and the couple, but something about it just doesn't seem right, no matter how I write it. Oh, and Aaron's missing.
BUT WAIT, THERES MORE.
I hope you read that in the voice of the guy that always does those TV commercials. But anyway, I'm really excited for the next chapter. Not only because it will be the 20th (didn't think I'd make it this far) but also because it has some decent development between certain characters. *coughAaron&Zoeycough*
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*coughcoughreviewcough*