Ha, I like how the part Of Dark Carnival I knew nothing about ended up being the longest chapter. Good job, there.
Also no, I didn't forget about Gnome Chomski. I remember thinking at some point that Ellis put him into a backpack and carried him around, and then I thought everyone who read this would assume that, too. BUT. I realized they wouldn't. SO. I just made that clear in this chapter.
You might have noticed I've been using a lot of actual lines from the game. It provides authenticity! Totally not a cop out! Plus some are too good not to use.
And maybe it's just me, but I can't stand Mustachio. So Nick sort of channels that dislike. Sorry.
"Nick. Nick, let go of me."
Nick cracked an eye open and saw that he had an arm wrapped tight around Rochelle's waist. He quickly let go and sat up as she rolled away from him and stood up.
"What happened?" he asked, feeling his heart beating (was that from fear? Probably). "What the hell were you doing lying next to me?"
"I was cold!" she replied angrily, crossing her arms and keeping her distance as he stood up. "I didn't know you'd be all clingy."
"I was probably hoping you were Zoey," he grinned, shaking off his jacket.
"Yeah, that's why you muttered 'Ro', right?" she shot back, grinning.
He tried not to look mortified. "The hell I said Ro. Keep dreamin'."
"Hey, I'm just sayin' what I heard," she replied, holding up her hands.
"You heard wrong," he insisted, getting angry. "I must have said no. Or go."
"Whatever you say," she shrugged.
"Anyway, I was asleep, so anything I said or did is null and void." He looked around the room impatiently and saw Ellis was beginning to wake up. "So just forget about it and let's go."
"I don't know why you're getting so worked up over it," she muttered, rousing Coach from his chair.
"I'm not," he snapped. "Just don't do it again."
"Fine," she said angrily.
"Nick, remember when we ran on that roller coaster?" Ellis asked excitedly, getting up.
Nick covered his face with his hand and sighed deeply.
"Yes, Ellis, I remember," he said.
"We all up?" Coach asked, stretching and cracking his neck. There were various nonsense noises which meant yes. "Good, let's get some ammo and supplies before we leave."
Nick picked up a Combat Shotgun and glanced over at Rochelle, who had bent beside him and picked up one of those three-round burst machine guns. She met his eyes, glared at him, and then straightened up and walked away. Nick frowned at her back, but before he could say something, a voice drifted in from outside.
"Moustachio! Ha ha ha!"
Nick pressed his face against the bars, trying to see where that obnoxious sound had come from.
"I don't know what that is," he said, "but I already hate it."
"Good!" Ellis nodded, joining him at the door. "Moustachio's evil!"
Everyone stared at him.
"Um…what?" Rochelle said, voicing everyone's confusion.
"He's this evil pistachio," Ellis explained, looking extremely serious. "He's always tryin' to do in Lil' Peanut!"
"Ellis, why in GOD'S name do you know the names of these things!?" Nick shouted.
"Uh…cause Kiddieland is awesome?" Ellis replied, as if it were obvious.
"All right, that's enough talk," Coach cut in, stepping up. "Let's go."
The four stepped out and were immediately confronted by several Infected, who charged and clawed at them. They knocked the screaming things back and shot or swung until the things died. When it was somewhat clearer, they continued, passing a trailer and a ticket stand, as well as a hot dog stand, several plastic chairs and tables, and a dumpster.
"Look, there's the perfect place for that prize you won, Ellis!" Nick exclaimed, pointing at the dumpster.
"You seen yerself lately? I think yer suit belongs in there," Ellis shot back.
"Damn, young 'un, shootin' it right back at Nick!" Coach praised as Rochelle burst out laughing. Nick just scowled.
"This suit cost more than your house," he muttered.
They walked through the center of what used to be an area for customers to sit and eat. Several empty green tables sat quietly under a string of dull lights which were strung up above the group's heads, encircling the perimeter and slightly hurting their eyes. The bumper cars were directly across from them as they left the tables behind, but Ellis saw something to their right that distracted him.
"Oh boy, a test-your-strength game!" he cried, running over to it. "Maybe I can win somethin' else!"
"Ellis, you just won that troll," Nick complained as the rest of the group followed the eager boy. "Where is it, anyway?"
"Ok, first off, Nick, it's a gnome? Gnome Chomski? Duh," Ellis corrected, looking at Nick as if he was an idiot. "Second, he's right in this here backpack-a mine, safe n' sound. Cozy, too."
"Ellis, it's not alive," Nick murmured to himself before raising his voice. "Well, at least you'll be shooting things instead of cradling that thing like a baby."
"Speaking of babies, this one time-"
A Hunter shrieked and pounced on Ellis from behind while the youth was beginning to go into another long-winded yarn. He hollered in surprise and thrashed on the ground, trying to shove the hooded creature off as it tore at his t-shirt with its claws. Coach smacked it off with his shotgun and blasted it twice, where it slumped to the ground and lay still.
"See what happens when you talk too much?" Nick said.
Rochelle stepped past him and took Ellis's hand, helping the kid to his feet. Nick looked away, annoyed, and noticed a stuffed giraffe sitting on a green bench near the strength machine. These stuffed animals were all over the place.
"Moustachio!" the machine announced, interrupting Nick's thoughts.
Nick glared at the cardboard image of Moustachio with distaste. "Is that all it says?"
"Moustachio! Test your strength!" the machine said immediately. "Doh ho ho!"
"Smartass," Nick growled. "That's not any better."
"Nick, stop talking to inanimate objects," Rochelle scolded.
"All right, lemme give this a try," Ellis said, readying his cricket bat.
He swung down as hard as he could. They all watched the marker fly almost up to the top, then fall back down.
"Ha ha, too weak!" the machine taunted. Nick wanted to put his fist through it. He hated this pistachio even more than that stupid peanut.
"Try again, Ellis," Rochelle encouraged.
Frowning, Ellis swung again, harder than before. The marker rose to the exact same spot, then fell back down. He stomped his foot in frustration.
"Dangit, what's wrong with me?" he complained.
"It's not you, it's the machine," Nick informed him. He knew how some of these things were rigged. "They probably weighted it so that you can't get it to the top unless you, I dunno, took one of those adrenaline shots or something."
"But that ain't fair!" Ellis looked aghast.
Nick shrugged. "It's pretty common."
Ellis shot the machine a glare and stormed off towards the bumper cars. "Stupid cheating thing."
"Aw, Ellis," Rochelle began.
"Wait, give that to him. Bribe him with something so he stop looking like a kicked puppy," Nick whispered to her, pointing at the stuffed giraffe.
She gave him a funny look and picked it up, running to catch up with Ellis. Nick and Coach watched as Ellis looked at Rochelle, then down at the giraffe, then at Rochelle, then back to the giraffe.
"What'm I supposed to do with that?" he asked.
"Uh…" Rochelle looked sideways at Nick for help.
Nick stared back at her, thinking quickly. He mouthed the word "friend", held up four fingers, then pointed at Ellis's backpack. She nodded slightly, then looked back at Ellis.
"It's a friend!" she said brightly, holding up the giraffe. "For your gnome! Wouldn't want him getting lonely in your big dark backpack, right?"
"That's just silly."
"Oh." Rochelle looked disappointed and lowered the giraffe. "I'll put it back, then."
"Nah, hold on, Ro, I'll take it. I woulda won it anyway, if that stupid game hadn't been rigged. 'Sides, it's kinda cute," Ellis admitted. He placed it next to the lawn gnome and then zipped up the backpack. "All right, let's head through the bumper cars."
Coach immediately headed off after Ellis, but Rochelle turned back and jogged over to Nick.
"Thanks for the help, slick," she said.
He shrugged. "No problem. Hold on, there's one thing I hafta do."
Nick marched up to the cardboard cutout of Moustachio, took out his crowbar, and bashed its smug cardboard face in. He smiled at the hole, nodded, and strolled towards the bumper cars, looking satisfied.
Rochelle walked next to him, shaking her head and smiling. "You are a crazy man."
"It had to be done, Ro," he replied. "There was no way I was leaving without at least punching that thing in the face."
"It's just a cutout, Nick."
The group tromped across the wooden floor of the bumper cars and headed for the glowing green exit sign.
"Good thing a Tank didn't show up here, right guys?" Ellis called back, grinning.
"Ellis, why are you trying to curse us?" Nick replied.
The sudden sound of a helicopter nearly deafened them once they stepped outside. They all ducked instinctively, then watched as it flew away to another area of the park.
"Shit, it was so close!" Rochelle cursed, watching it go.
"Head to the stadium, I have an idea!" Coach ordered.
"This idea wouldn't have anything to do with food, would it?" Nick asked suspiciously.
"No, my idea's about how t' get rescued!" Coach replied impatiently.
They headed through an opening in the bushes and turned left. At the end of that short path, they turned right, passing a burger stand with four stuffed elephants and giraffes.
"Jeez, these things are like rabbits," Nick muttered to Rochelle.
"I agree," she said, looking at them and wrinkling her nose. "They're too cute for my taste."
"I was referring to the way they appear to be multiplying like rabbits, but it's good to know you have some taste," Nick replied.
"Says the guy wearing a suit during a zombie apocalypse," she shot back.
"Exactly, you know I'm credible!"
They caught up with the others, who had stopped and were looking around. The area they were currently in had a row of giant barns, most of which were sealed shut. The one at the farthest end of the line had a door open. Several food stands and vending machines were scattered around. A game to the left of a vending machine nearby caught Nick's eye.
"Stache Whacker," he read aloud. "Oh, I gotta see this."
He walked over and examined the machine. Five holes on top with miniature Mustachios inside and a red button to start the thing. So it was like whack-a-mole, only you hit that goddamn pistachio. This could be fun.
"Guys, I'm going to play this," he informed them. "Watch my back in case something comes."
"What're you gonna hit 'em with?" Ellis asked curiously, gasping as Nick picked up a nearby pistol. "Nick, that's cheating!"
"Relax, Tiny, it probably doesn't give out any prizes," he argued, pressing the button.
Thirty seconds started counting down as music came on. It was exactly the same as the shooting gallery's music, only muted. The first Mustachio mole popped up, and Nick shot at it, leaving a bullet hole dent in it. He hit three more, and then two popped out at the same time on opposite sides.
"What is this crap?" he demanded in surprise, forgetting to fire.
They both dropped down before he could shoot, and he cursed. Another one popped up and then down before Nick could even aim at it. He slammed his fist down after it.
"Come on!"
He hit another three, and then missed two. He tried pistol-whipping one, but his score didn't increase.
"This is such bullshit!" he shouted, furious.
"Nick, calm down, you're going to work yourself up into a heart attack," Rochelle joked.
"This thing is so unfair, I can't even belie-"
Nick shot one more mole as the timer buzzed. His score read nine. CONTINUE? popped up on the screen, accompanied by a ten second timer.
"Hell yes," Nick muttered angrily, hitting the button again. He threw away the pistol and took out the crowbar.
"Nick, we really don't have time for this," Coach insisted.
"Ellis got to play a game, and I'm playing this one," Nick declared. "I'm not going anywhere until I beat this stupid thing."
"He must really hate Mustachio," Ellis whispered to Rochelle. "It's just a cartoon."
Off in the distance, something squeaked. Nick ignored it and readied his crowbar.
"What was that?" Coach asked, looking around. Whatever it was squeaked again.
The first mole popped up, and Nick swung at it. There was a loud clang, followed by an "Ouch!", and it popped down, dented. Nick's score became ten.
"Yes!" he said happily, grinning and gripping the crowbar with both hands. This was going to be awesome.
A clown zombie emerged from the far barn and started running in their direction, a moderately large group of Infected following it.
"Clowns? Clowns," Ellis said in disbelief. "You've gotta be kidding me."
Coach, Rochelle, and Ellis beat back the swarm as Nick continued to smash away at the moles. A lone Infected stopped behind him and punched him. Nick punched it right back and turned back to the game.
"Fucking Infected," he complained.
The game stopped. His score was at twenty-one, and yet nothing was dispensed. He pressed the button again as the group groaned.
Another clown came after them, this time from the direction of the bumper cars. While the group fought the Infected off again, Nick only managed to bring his score up to thirty.
"Goddamnit!" he cursed, slamming his fist down. "This is the last time I'm going to play it. If nothing comes out, we'll go."
When Nick's score reached forty-two, sparks shot out and the machine emitted a loud screeching noise. Nick jumped back in surprise, wondering if it would explode or burst into flame. And where was his prize, goddamnit? The five Mustachio moles shot out and stayed up, frozen.
Shit. It was broken.
The familiar howl of an incoming Horde cut through the air, and Nick joined the others.
"Aw, real good job, Nick," Ellis complained, glaring at him. "You broke it and got the zombies after us!"
"I didn't get a prize, either!" Nick grumbled. "This place sucks."
They blasted and beat back the sudden rush of zombies, switching between guns and melee weapons once the Horde's numbers began to dwindle. After a while, it was clear again.
"Now that Nick's done breakin' things, we can go," Coach said.
Nick gave the Stache Whacker machine a glare, and then noticed what was opposite it. A few stuffed snakes and crocodiles were just hanging up, waiting to be taken. He hated to admit it, but they were kinda cute. He plucked a crocodile off a hook and hurried after the rest of them.
"Ro, wait up, I got something for you!"
She stopped and turned to him, impatient.
"What is-" she began to complain, but stopped when he held up the stuffed croc. "Nick, it's adorable!"
"I thought so," he agreed, grinning.
"Aw, but where am I going to put it? I can't carry it around," she realized. "Damn. Thanks anyway."
Nick looked over her shoulder and noticed she didn't have a medpack. "I know, turn around."
She glared at him. "If you're going to make a crack about my ass-"
"I'm not, just turn around!" he insisted.
Rochelle gave him another warning look, then turned around. He attached the stuffed animal to the strap that usually held the medkit, making sure it was secure.
"Ok, you're good," he told her.
She grinned at him. "Thanks. Let's catch up."
She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. Nick blinked at her, surprised.
"What-"
"You stupid bastard," she cut him off.
"Hey!" he protested.
A roar came from up ahead, near one of the barns. Coach and Ellis came sprinting back as the ground started to shake.
"Where the hell were you two?" Coach demanded as they joined up.
Neither had time to reply as the Tank rumbled along a corner at them. The four split up, firing at it. It appeared to have a fit, probably frustrated at having to choose which person to go after. It slammed its fists down on the ground, then lifted up a large slab of concrete. Coach dove behind a kettle korn stand as the chunk smashed behind him.
"Shit, now it's throwin' things!" he panted.
Their combined fire brought it down just as it picked up another piece of concrete to chuck. It fell forward onto its face, the concrete smashing down on top of it.
"That was fun," Nick commented as they headed back to the open barn. "Any other surprises? Don't answer, Ellis."
A Boomer was hiding just inside the doorway of the barn. As Coach, Ellis, and Rochelle stepped through, it puked on them. Nick was far enough away that he managed not to get hit.
"Shit!" Nick cursed, shooting it.
It exploded and covered the other three with even more Boomer bile. They wiped at their faces, yelling in disgust.
"GODDAMNIT, NICK!" Coach bellowed. "Watch where you aim!"
A swarm of Infected appeared from nowhere and quickly ran at the soaked survivors. Nick and the others beat them back and blasted them, Nick hitting more often than the others since he didn't have puke dripping over his eyes. As their vision cleared, the zombies were dispatched more efficiently, and soon they were alone in the barn.
"Ugh!" Nick gagged, covering his nose with his sleeve. "What is that?"
"Maybe the dried puke we're now covered in?" Ellis replied sarcastically.
"No, it's worse," Nick claimed, looking around.
A dead cow lay rotting in one of the stalls. He pointed at it, and the other three looked at it.
"I wonder if it starved?" Rochelle wondered, looking upset at the idea.
"It was probably the virus that did it in," Coach decided.
"Can animals even catch the green flu?" Rochelle asked doubtfully.
"I dunno," Coach shrugged.
"Maybe they were carriers," Nick suggested, joining them reluctantly. It stunk to high hell. "Probably the reason this whole thing started. Let's go before I puke all over you guys."
They crossed into the next barn, shooting the few Infected who were inside. They headed through a door in the back corner and found themselves in a large room. Two rows of four mostly empty tables decorated it. Ammo and some guns lay on the farthest table. Nick shut the door behind them to cut off the dead cow smell before following the other three.
"Good, I was running low," Rochelle admitted, picking up more ammo.
Nick grabbed some as well and reloaded his gun. He glanced at her as he did so.
"So you kissed me. Willingly, I might add," he pointed out. "No adrenaline to blame this time, honey."
"Actually, I took some pills right before you gave me that croc," she answered, smiling. "So I can blame drugs. Honey."
"Oh yeah? What were those pills made of? Bullshit? You didn't have pills or a shot when we got to the barns. You wanted to kiss me. Admit it, babe."
"Nothing to admit," she said lightly, reloading her gun as well. "Like I said, pills are to blame, babe."
"You're stickin' with that, huh, sweetie?"
"Sure am, sweetheart."
"I want my croc back."
"Too late, you already gave it to me."
"We all ready?" Coach asked, looking around.
The other three nodded at him and they started to head outside. Nick, still aggravated, pinched the side of Rochelle's stomach. She yelped and jumped sideways, banging into a table. Ellis and Coach looked back in alarm.
"Jeez, Rochelle, try to be a little more careful!" Nick said loudly, daring her to say something.
"Sorry, caught me off guard," she replied, glaring at him.
"It's ok, Rochelle, just try to make a little less noise," Coach advised.
"I agree with that," Nick began, before Rochelle kicking him in the ass cut him off. He stopped and looked back at her, shaking his head at her nerve. "Do that again and I will drop you."
"Ooh, scary," she joked, waving her free hand. "What're ya gonna do if I mess up your suit? Wash your hands some more?"
He didn't reply and waited patiently as Coach climbed up onto the roof of the barn. When Ellis, who followed, was almost all the way up, Nick suddenly spun and grabbed her, digging his fingers into her ribs. She screamed and kicked at him, laughing uncontrollably.
"Let go!" she begged, trying to squirm out of his hold.
"Not until you admit pills had nothing to do with kissing me!" he insisted.
"No!" She tried to hold out, but it was getting hard to breathe. "Ok, ok! Just stop, I can't breathe!"
"Fine." He let go of her and waited patiently, his hands on his hips. "Well?"
She pretended to be more winded than she was, waiting for him to speak again.
"I'm waiti-"
She quickly slapped him and then scrambled up onto the roof. Nick grabbed at her leg and barely missed it, his fingers brushing her shoe.
"Oh you bitch!" he cried, climbing up after her as she started cackling and running after Coach and Ellis. "When I get my hands on you-"
"Quit messin' around and hurry up!" Coach yelled from the second rooftop.
She was halfway to the second roof, and Nick was closing in on her, intending to get revenge (he would spank the fuck out of her, that'd teach her to slap him) when a Charger cried out and then grabbed Coach, carrying him off the second roof and onto the third.
"Shoot this thing poundin' the shit outta me!" Coach hollered, unable to break free.
Ellis, being the closest, shot first, but Nick and Rochelle soon joined him. After a few seconds the Charger released Coach and limply rolled off the roof, landing on the ground below. Unfortunately, its large corpse attracted the zombies' attention. Infected began jumping up and pulling themselves onto the roof. Thankfully, the higher ground allowed the survivors to easily see and pick most of them off before they got too close. When both the ground below and the area to the right were clear, they began jumping down. Coach and Ellis continued towards the scaffold and gate. Nick followed them, glancing back at Rochelle. She was keeping a good distance behind him, watching him warily. Smart move.
A Smoker coughed somewhere, and everybody stopped, looking around for it. Rochelle felt herself yanked off her feet and dragged back, eventually hanging straight down in front of an abandoned house.
"Help!" she cried, struggling ineffectually.
Nick couldn't see the Smoker, and he didn't want to risk hitting Rochelle with a bullet. He ran up to her and grabbed onto the Smoker's tongue with both hands. He yanked down as hard as he could and it immediately let go, tumbling down onto the ground headfirst. Nick stomped it a few times to make sure it was dead, then turned to Rochelle.
"Hold still, you've got gunk all over you," he said, brushing off her legs with his left hand. He readied his right as she tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for him to stop.
"Taking an awfully long time for you to-" she began.
He smacked his right hand as hard as he could against her ass and she jumped straight forward, dropping her gun and clutching her behind. She whirled and stared at him, her mouth wide open in shock.
"That's what you get for slapping me," he told her calmly. "Don't do it again or else that'll happen."
She continued to gape at him and he sauntered past, smirking. They were even now.
Something bounced off the back of his head and he turned around, startled. An empty paper cup lay at his feet. He looked up just in time to see Rochelle throw another one. He flinched as it bounced off his forehead.
"It's like you deliberately provoke me!" he declared, advancing towards her as she backed up, looking around for another cup to throw. "Like you want me to touch you or something!"
"Are you girls done grab assing over there?" Coach shouted, sounding very annoyed. "We need to get through this gate!"
"Sorry, Coach!" Rochelle hollered back, punching Nick in the chest. He staggered back and coughed as she picked up her gun. "We'll be right there!"
Nick punched her hip as they ran back and she stumbled, giving him a dirty look. He pretended not to see.
"We need to press this button t' open the gate," Ellis told them once they were all together. He pointed at a button just inside a house. "'Course that means it'll probably make a ton-a noise and bring all the zombies down on us."
"Fun," Rochelle sighed.
"There's a safe house up ahead, though," Coach said, pointing at the familiar spray painted sign, "so once the gates are open, we'll need to plow our way through."
Nick thought he heard the faint sound of a Witch crying somewhere in the distance. It was probably just his imagination.
"I'm stayin' in this corner, so I'll press the button when you're ready," Nick informed them, settling back against the wall.
"I'll take the opposite corner," Rochelle announced, running over to it.
"I guess we'll keep a lookout up on the scaffold, then," Coach decided. "Come on, Ellis."
Nick waited for the two of them to climb up. He looked over at Rochelle, who gave him the finger. He smiled at her.
"Charming!" he called.
"Thought you'd appreciate it!" she replied.
"Ok, we're ready!" Coach shouted down.
"All right, I'm pressin' it!" Nick announced, reaching in the window and slapping the button.
The gate started creaking, but Nick saw absolutely no movement. Of course the gate was rusted. He sighed.
Almost immediately, Infected began pouring in from all directions, mostly heading for the others. Nick shot whatever he could, making sure no one got overwhelmed. Coach and Ellis kicked off any Infected who tried to climb up, making their defense easy. Rochelle fell back on her axe and started swinging, decapitating whatever charged at her.
Nick looked at the gate. Still nothing. Come on.
Clowns, leading their own little parades of zombies, hopped over the gate, running at the survivors. Nick shot down the dozen or so who rushed at him, scowling. At least these ones weren't wearing fireproof suits.
"Gate's open!" someone (probably Ellis) shouted, barely audible over the sound of gunshots and snarling.
Nick saw the gate retract, revealing three turnstiles side-by-side. He ran through, swinging his crowbar at any pursuing Infected. Rochelle quickly caught up and passed him.
"Trying to get pounced? Not the best plan, sweetheart," he teased.
"I think I can take care of myself," she retorted, looking back at him and smirking.
A Jockey jumped on her and Nick tried not to laugh. Oh yeah, she could take care of herself. He tried to catch up to them, but the Jockey kept dragging her forward. Where the hell was it taking her? And was the sound of a Witch getting louder? Panicked, he reached the end of the path and turned left, following Rochelle and the Jockey.
A Witch sat sobbing directly in front of the safe room door, and the Jockey was steering Rochelle straight towards it.
"Get it offa me!" she shrieked, unable to change her direction.
The Witch howled and stood up, knocking Rochelle to the ground with one swipe. The Jockey hopped off and tried to scuttle past Nick, who slammed his crowbar straight into the back of its neck and kept running for Rochelle.
"ShitshitSHIT!" he hissed, grabbing for his flashlight.
"HEY! YOU STUPID BITCH!" he hollered at the Witch, flicking the light on and off in her face. "Get over here! Pussy!"
The Witch completely ignored him and started slashing at Rochelle in a crazed frenzy, shrieking in rage. Rochelle screamed piercingly, ineffectually holding up her hands to defend herself.
Oh God, that can't be her blood. It can't be, Nick thought wildly, running right up to the pale woman.
The Witch didn't stop clawing even as Nick blasted her with his shotgun. Finally, after the third shot, she fell to her knees and then on her side, motionless. Nick knelt beside Rochelle, grabbing her hand.
"Ro! Shit, RO!" he cried, feeling himself trembling. "Get up!"
Her shirt was soaked in blood, and she looked at him, dazed.
"Jacob?" she said sleepily.
"No, fuck, it's me! It's Nick! We gotta get you up!" He tugged at her, afraid to hurry her but also aware that the Horde would catch up and do even more damage if she didn't get up soon. "Come on, Ro!"
"What happened?" she asked, looking at her shirt and blinking slowly. "Is this juice?"
"Sure, sure, just get up, goddamnit!"
Losing his patience, he grabbed her and hefted her over his shoulder, running for the safe room. He could feel something soaking through his jacket and shirt as he ran.
There had better be a first aid kit in here, he thought. If not, so help me God, I'll search the whole goddamn park until I find one.
"Wait up!" Ellis called from behind. Nick ignored him.
He laid her carefully on the ground and she groaned in pain. He took off his jacket (the right shoulder was now stained with blood) and tied it around her waist, trying to soak some of it up. She looked up at him, breathing shakily. "Am I gonna be ok?"
"You're gonna be fine," he assured her, hands shaking slightly as he slid her shirt up and pressed his jacket against the wounds (he couldn't even see them through the blood, which he thought was both good and bad). "Just lie still and relax."
She smiled up at him. "Thanks, Doc."
Ellis burst in behind him, panting.
"Man, what the hell? Why didn't you-" He noticed the state Rochelle was in. "OH MAH GAWD! WHAT HAPPENED!?"
"Witch got her," Nick said shortly, barely looking at him. "Is Coach coming or what?"
Ellis stepped outside and hollered for Coach to hurry up, Rochelle was dyin' in here. Nick silently cursed the kid.
"I'm going to get you some first aid," he told her. "I'll be right back. Try not to move around if it hurts."
"It hurts," she groaned.
Nick bit his lip and hurried over to the shelves, quickly finding the one with the medkits. He snatched one up and ran back to her.
I gotta heal her. She has to make it. That GODDAMN Jockey! Why didn't I shoot it? What the fuck was I think chasing after it on foot?
The cuts on her hands and arms seemed shallow, so he focused on her injured abdomen. He peeled the jacket (now red and white) back and saw that there was still too much blood for the gauze to stick without sliding. He heard the door shut and looked up.
"I'll check the bathroom for a towel or something to help mop her up," Coach said solemnly, walking into the side room.
Ellis danced from one foot to the other with his hat in his hands, biting at the bill of it.
"Ohmanohmanohman," he moaned worriedly, not taking his eyes off her. "Is she gonna be all right? I just don't know what I'd do if-"
"She'll be fine!" Nick snapped, growing angrier and more frightened as she closed her eyes. "Shit! Rochelle, sweetie, you gotta stay awake a while longer, ok?"
She sighed heavily. "Ok."
Coach came out with a damp towel and handed it to Nick without a word. Nick quickly pressed it to her stomach and she flinched, crying out in pain.
"I know, I know, but I have to do it!" he soothed.
The towel started to make some progress in getting the blood wiped away. Nick flipped it over and started wiping off some of the blood above her stomach. She groaned weakly.
"Almost done," he lied.
He pressed the towel down over the area that had been bloodiest and waited. After a few minutes, he moved it away. There were five or six claw marks which still bled, but not profusely. They were deeper than the ones on her hands, but not deep enough so that, say, her intestines would spill out. Nick shuddered at the thought.
He tossed the towel to the side and opened the medkit, taking out disinfectant.
"Shit, I should wash my hands. I don't want to risk infecting her with something," he realized.
Nick ran to the bathroom and quickly scrubbed his hands clean before running back out and dropping back beside her.
"Rochelle?" he said, trying to get her attention.
"Hm?"
"This is probably going to sting," he warned, and then hesitated before continuing. "A lot."
"Ok," she replied, obviously not understanding what he had just said.
No time to worry about that now, he thought, opening the bottle. He poured it carefully and slowly onto the gashes. Her shoulders jerked and she clenched her teeth shut and growled through them as the liquid fizzled and bubbled, turning into white foam. She dug her nails into her palms.
"We'll be done soon," he promised, taking her hand.
Bad idea. She dug her nails into his palm instead. He winced but didn't pull his hand away, reaching for the bloodied towel so he could wipe away the foam.
"It stings!" she hissed, her eyes squeezed shut.
"Good, at least you can still feel, right?" he told her, dabbing carefully.
She grumbled something he didn't catch and let go of his hand. He put the towel down again and picked up the roll of gauze.
"I need to wrap this around you, ok?" he said. "Can you sit up?"
She tried, but only got a few inches before falling back, groaning. She had started to sweat.
"Ok, ok, I'll do it without you sitting up," he assured her.
He carefully stretched the gauze over the wounds, setting them in place as best he could. He picked up the tape that went over it and tore off a piece, taping it from one side of her stomach to the other over as much gauze as he could. He repeated it with another piece, then another, and finally one last piece. He set the roll of tape down and replaced her shirt.
"All right, we're done," he announced.
She sighed wearily, opening her eyes. "Thanks."
"You should get some rest, baby doll," Coach spoke up, startling Nick. He had forgotten Ellis and Coach were there. "Took quite a beatin'."
Ellis still had his hat in his hands, but had stopped jumping from one foot to the other. He didn't say anything.
"All right," she murmured, closing her eyes again. "Wake me when it's my watch."
The three men watched as she fell into a peaceful doze, then looked at each other.
"That was too close," Coach whispered, looking haggard all of a sudden.
"What exac'ly happened?" Ellis asked quietly, looking at Nick.
"A Jockey jumped on her, and the little bastard steered her right into a Witch," Nick replied. "Bitch was sitting right in front of the safe room."
They were silent again. Ellis played with his hat and Coach rubbed the back of his head. Nick looked over at Rochelle.
"You should get some sleep," Coach said to Nick.
"No, no, I'll keep watch over her," he insisted. "You guys sleep. Either of you get hurt?"
"Nuthin' too bad," Ellis shrugged. "Hold on."
He untied the sweatshirt around his waist and held it out to Nick.
"You can make it into a pillow or somethin' for 'er," he suggested. "So she's more comferble."
Nick nodded. "Thanks."
He heard the kid walk off and turned back to Rochelle. Coach put his hand on Nick's shoulder.
"She'll be fine, Nick," he emphasized.
"I know," he replied, too quickly. "She's tough. I just…wanna be there for her when she wakes up. She'll probably be confused. That, or she'll just blame me."
Coach chuckled. "We'll set her straight."
Nick smiled. Coach walked off to sleep as well, and he began folding Ellis's sweatshirt into a pillow. He gently lifted up Rochelle's head and slid the garment under, setting her head down just as carefully. He scooted back slightly so he was against the safe room door and sighed, feeling exhausted.
You know, it is your fault.
Nick tried not to pursue the thought, but it continued as he looked at Rochelle.
Chasing after a Jockey when you KNOW how fast those things are? It's like you WANTED her to be incapacitated. And ignoring that Witch? What a pal you are.
Nick swallowed hard. This was not going to be fun.