CHAPTER 62: A Warm Welcome Into a Northern Town

I woke up in within the whiteness of the TEC's infirmary. There was nobody in there . . . unless I counted. Sighing, I decided to reach over to my left and grab a map of some sort. When I finally had it in my leaves, my eyes began to dart left and right across the paper as I found that the TEC was way bigger than I thought it could ever be. The ex-shopping mall was connected to the stock market buildings on Bay Street and the Toronto Reference Library. I smiled weakly as I traced the complex pathways of the base . . . until a question began to bounce around my head.

What the hell am I doing here?

"So there you are, Elyssia!"

Savannah just popped out of nowhere and came running over to me.

"I'm so, so sorry about what happened back there!" she cried, her green eyes wide with remorse.

"I'm not the one who makes up the news! I mean, after all, you don't shoot the messenger! It's just . . . I'm scared for you. Really scared. Please . . . this is real! I wish it wasn't true but . . . we can't control what God does. We can't control what Fate does. We must play with the cards we're dealt, good or bad. You hearing me?"

I raised my leaf and nodded.

"Listen. I don't care about some stupid newspaper article! Tsh, since when have I let a threat get the better of me?" I scoffed.

"I just had this needle jammed into me, and I started feeling panicked, that's all!" Savannah bit her lip, and hugged me.

"Elyssia . . . I wish you the best of luck wherever you go, whatever you do. Sure, I don't really know you that well, but . . . you're already Ontario's symbol of hope, and maybe, one of these days, you'll be Canada's beacon, from sea to sea."

I let out a few tears of happiness at those words. Ontario's beacon . . . could I really be the beacon of at least 2500 cities? And one day, maybe one day, could I be Canada's hero?

"Elyssia, get up! Up I say!" I was shaken out of my reflection by Eric yelling at me to get up.

"How long was I out?" I wondered aloud.

"A few minutes. You'll live." Savannah replied optimistically, her usual shine back in her eyes.

I climbed out of the bed and grabbed the tin that the Resistance gave us, ready to face the mission and whatever it brought.

A train took us to Pickle Lake for the mission. But this train wasn't any of those fancy Ottawa locomotives. It seemed like a subway train that transported humans on the TTC once upon a time. I was grateful for the bumps, jolts and the lack of luxurious food to eat. After all, I was going on a mission, not on a vacation. Besides . . . vacations are from another world right now, here in post-apocalyptic Toronto. My mind began to wander and roam as the hours passed. I thought about odd things . . . from the lunch menu to the weather . . .

A steam whistle threatened to cause me to go stone deaf as the train pulled into a tattered station.

"Get used to it, Elyssia. If we're going on long journeys, expect coming out a bit deaf." Eric muttered as he tugged on my leaf.

I got up, went out of the train, only to be greeted by a hot, sticky atmosphere.

"Oh . . ." I began to sweat, and my eyes began to sting.

As a frozen plant, I had an intolerance for heat, and it made me feel uncomfortable. And if the heat was bad enough, I could get weak. Taking a deep breath, I stepped onto the ground, which felt like walking on burning coals.

"What's this place's damned problem?" I complained.

"It's the graveyard, and the sewage plant next to it. That sewage plant is a factory that makes God-knows-what, and we need to get rid of it." a Chomper piped up.

Looking at the map, I saw that we needed to destroy two places. I sighed, and did the sign of the cross, before our team of 4900 plants set off.

We arrived at a forest at the edge of the graveyard. "Oh . . . oh . . ." I was beginning to become nauseous as the heat was taking its toll on me. Gritting my teeth in frustration, I closed my eyes and counted backwards from 100, although this proved itself to be one hell of a bad idea.

99, 98, 97 . . .

"Well, Terrence, what now?"

I began to hear undead voices as I attempted to numb the discomfort.

. . . 87, 86, 85 . . .

"The forest, that's what."

. . . 75, 74, 73 . . .

"AA-CHOO!"

I heard a plant sneeze. Biting my lip, I desperately hoped that the zombies didn't hear that noise . . .

. . . 66, 65, 64 . . .

"SHUT UP! YOU DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!"

. . . 43, 42, 41 . . .

"In the forest! The forest, I swear to God!"

. . . 29, 28, 27 . . .

"We're almost there. Get ready!"

. . . 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 . . .

BLAM!

"Crap!" I shrieked as a bullet was shot at the tree I was using for cover.

"Run right in!" I instructed.

Naturally, at least 200 plants were shot down by the zombies, but I didn't back down. I started tossing the bombs at the graveyard, which turned portions of it into rubble. Running towards Peater, I handed him the tin of bombs.

"You do the rest. I'm going in!" I yelled, before I started running around zombies and into the church.

The door of the church was boarded up, but I eventually found a passageway behind some rotting wood crates. Crawling through the tunnel, I saw that the torches lighting it were flickering as the wind danced around it. I savoured the coldness of the tunnel. It gave me strength and power, and it caused the fear that was slowly creeping up my back to surrender. With a smile on my face, I continued crawling through that dank tunnel.

I was at the top of the passageway after ten more minutes, only to be greeted by a sneering, snarling voice.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Elyssia Antonia, ruler of none!" I looked to my left, and saw a zombie holding a chainsaw.

"Stop right there, Oliask. I know you . . . all too well." I growled, holding my right leaf up.

The zombie named Oliask smiled, and started laughing as he saw my leaf high in the air.

"You think that some random snowflakes will be able to bring me down?" he hissed.

I looked into his lacklustre eyes and began to growl quietly, thinking about all the pain that he caused my family. Just then, Oliask turned into a bird, then an eagle, and then a demon. After those changes in form, Oliask turned back into a zombie.

"Catch me . . . if you can." he snarled as he used the chainsaw and clipped into my stem.

With my anger and want for vengeance as my strength, I launched myself onto Oliask with a scream. I clambered up his chest and head until I was on top. With my left leaf holding his neck, I began to wave my other leaf back and forth, steadily weakening the zombie.

"Get the hell off me! You hear? Get the hell off!" Oliask howled.

Not giving a care, I continued my torture; his howls and cries for mercy giving me strength and confidence. Finally, he gave way to the ground, which caused me instinctively to jump off and do something . . .

Until I felt the chilly breath of an evil soul run down my stem. I turned around, and saw Oliask's ghost. He began torturing me in indescribable ways with his mind. I groaned and twitched, until the anger came and replaced my fear. I raised my right leaf, and blasted him into smithereens with a loud yelp, causing the whole church to light on fire. Looking around at the burning embers, I let out an ear-splitting scream, for I was becoming weaker and weaker as the flames danced around and consumed whatever they could. I got the hell outta there in a matter of minutes, only to be greeted by a gory sight. The corpses of many plants littered the ground, which had finally lost its "burning" characteristic.

"Oh . . . !" I whispered, saddened by our loss.

Peater came up to me and almost lost it when he saw the gash on my stem that was slowly bleeding.

"Elyssia Antonia!" he yelled, before he started slapping me whilst lecturing me. "You . . . complete . . . fool! Why . . . were . . . you . . . so . . . damn . . . foolish . . . ?!"

After that was done, he hugged me tightly.

"Oh, Elyssia. Don't do that ever again! Please . . . don't make me die of a heart attack!"

I squirmed away, before I started gazing at the hazy red sky.

"Hey Elyssia . . . even though we're going through a lot . . . do you feel like giving up and going home?" Peater asked as we commenced the scary process of burying the dead.

"Yes. Because when I'm with you, there's no place I'd rather be. I mean, as long as you're holding onto me . . . that's one of the only times I feel safe." I answered softly.