Gary's Trilogy (Book 3): Still Myself, Still Surviving (The Retaliation)

by Marlin Grail

  His punctures start to become predictable with their pain level, but as he winds down to his last incision with the curved needle, I being winding up with frustration to myself.

  They’ve only helped you because they want to use you. Why? That should be none of your concern, Gary. So, why are you considering giving them an opportunity to share?

  The man by my feet assists Tanner with cutting the thread for the last time. If Tanner were a surgeon in the modern world, he would tell me I need rest, no movement on my leg so much. But, even with the mild curtesy I’ve been given by them all, I recall this isn’t the modern world, and they make this as clear as possible.

  They lift me up by both arms. “Listen,” Tanner says. “We had the tools we used for your fixer-upper just now, because we have a direct source to get the supplies from. We have a deal with people, and they willfully follow through every week in giving us their stuff.”

  He pauses when he realizes my focus is more on their jeep.

  Surely you’re messing up. That’s fair, considering you’re dehydrated, and lost some blood for a bit.

  The mercy tree they had grown for me Tanner chainsaws down. He slaps me on the face violently. “Don’t you DARE try and escape!” he threatens through clenched teeth by my right ear.

  Chapter XL

  Coming out of the grittiness I felt down on the ground, that slap barely rings as pain to me. It only dazes me about what I should do next. Say I’m sorry? Ask another question, and receive another slap that dazes me again while they just hold me in place?

  Seconds are passing, Gary. Precious seconds that could be spent advancing you closer to your people, even if it seems like these…aggressors are keeping you captive.

  “O-okay,” At this point I’m too exhausted bite back. If I was healthy…well, my reaction would be a bit different. Especially, if I still had my sword.

  I expect my right ear to be filled with words again. This time, it’s the on left from his assistant.

  “We’ve got to meet them this evening. But the recon we did, before I guess Tanner found you, was done when we’ve found out newcomers are around them.”

  Just like his assistant, who pulled me closer to him with a tug at my shirt, Tanner tugs me back. He does this fill in the blanks with their back and forth briefing.

  “And, based off of what we saw, these aren’t regular people. They came in helicopters,”

  My working leg, healthier than my currently healing one, wants to collapse to the ground first. Tanner and his assistant assure I don’t do so. My mouth goes colorful, a feeling that I could hack out in shock. And, like the pain I still feel from my recovering thigh, I’m going to embrace these feelings.

  Could they be…could they be there?

  Without thinking to do it, my face lifts up with an open smile. Little self-control is left in me to not express glee. Then, after moments of chuckles, I turn my glittering eyes towards Tanner and his assistant. I’m grateful I was told this even as I recall the blurriness of our partnership.

  I push myself on the opposing side.

  “You…” Tanner then morphs to a shocking revelation of his own, but acts on it in anger. Both release their grip under my arms aggressively. It throws me off balance. The ground sucks me down. Pebbles scatter on impact from my splayed arms trying to stop the harsh descent. “You came with them, didn’t you?”

  I do my best to turn and face him, but he circles me at a fast speed. I can’t make eye contact. He eventually gives me the opportunity for appropriate discussion. His hand grips hair, yanking on my scalp, to force my head in the direction where he wants me to look.

  He forces me to look at the people surrounding their bonfire. Their eyes collectively pierce through mine. They’d be burning holes into the back of my head if they could.

  I had to be very careful. I didn’t have all the pieces. I couldn’t seem like a threat. Tanner seemed like the type who’d respond positively to fear. His victim’s fear.

  “N-no,” I utter out in audible fright. “I don’t know what group you have a deal with, and I don’t know anything regarding any helicopters.”

  He stays silent. It’s answer enough that he doesn’t believe me. He reinforces his lack of faith when he lands his body’s weight on mine, digging the pressure of the ground into my wounded thigh.

  Involuntarily, I let out a deep yelp, but he won’t budge. Neither does his questioning.

  “Where’d you come from? Why’d you get shot? Were you alone?”

  He sounds betrayed. Is it my fault I want to keep those helicopters unknown to the outside world? Perhaps the operative leader was right. The public, being people like Tanner, won’t be able to take in the truth.

  Am I any less different in being protective to that extent like that operative leader was when we first came to the base?

  Seeing how things are turning out, knowing now those helicopters clearly have to be related to those at the base, I understand I will only get the chance to find out for sure if I “play nice”.

  I have to play the part of a frightened man. Someone they believe they can crush at any time. There’s no room for pride here. If I appear as a sniveling weakling, then that’s all the better.

  I pant out syllables to sound out answers, but Tanner’s anger is rising too quickly to even let me finish. “I knew you were trouble!”

  Without being able to see his head, I just receive the vibration of it elevating away from my ears. He speaks to the man who assisted him in my surgery. “You were right. Had he not shown his mutation, he would’ve gotten a bullet to his head.”

  On one hand, they like I’m different, and they hate it at the same time. They like the idea to use my immunity for their advantage, and they hate me for thinking I’m tied to those helicopters, the newcomers. Awkwardly though, I would be.

  I take a deeper breath. Given my physically weakened condition, I feel apprehension when his mouth moves back to my direction. Tanner is breathing heavily from his nostrils, hard enough I feel each puff of hot air against my skin.

  I must play nice with the lion, to tame him in the long run. “I-I’ll help you!” I exclaim, with a deliberately trembling tone. “You want my help? That’s fine! I’ll help you!”

  Tanner’s spread out fingers on my scalp don’t let up on their grip, but they give a change of how they angle my face’s vision. He turns me to look up at him, while he stares me down.

  “You will do everything I tell you. You understand?”

  He jolts my head with a left and right swaying motion. Pain explodes in my head. My eyes close, feeling dazed.

  I’m not safe in my head, my thoughts, anymore.

  “Do you understand me?” he roars in fury.

  “Yes!” I use a tone to represent complete obedience. “I will! You want me to summon undead for support? I can do that!”

  If they want to utilize my abilities, then I’ll be the lighthouse for all potential undead within this wilderness.

  Tanner seems stunned by my remark. He’d already gathered I can go into a haze. Truth is, he might’ve thought it was a simply convenient place for me to hide at the time.

  In some ways, he’s correct. Because I’m about to hide the true meaning of my ability to control the undead.

  He doesn’t notice my vindictive intent beneath my submission. But I don’t notice his next step regarding his group’s plan either. There’s not enough time to find out, for his next breath is spent forcing me back up. With his hand still on vicious contact with my scalp, he includes a newly felt violent grasp to the back of my shirt.

  I swallow my fury at being manhandled like this.

  His assistant tells to Tanner to force me to reiterate what I meant by that.

  It’s obvious to me that both have gone from concrete certainty about what happens next to needing my words to relax their anxiety.

  “What do you mean you can summon those things?” Tanner interrogates.

  “I can get them. Now, if you’d like,” I sub
tly coax in a pleasant tone.

  I’ve had hold of undead when they were already present. Can I attract them though? Just keep in mind, Gary, the key is symbiosis. Accepting their presence to you.

  When I offer this as a possibility to aid their cause, Tanner finally seems to believe the act will all be within my control. His fingers on my scalp gradually begin to let off.

  Work with it.

  “I will have them under full control. Once they’re here, under my whim, you show me where this setup is at, and I’ll be able to locate them over to it.”

  His fingers twitch, just like his expression. They now completely leave my scalp. His glare turns dazed.

  You won’t share everything, Tanner? I won’t share everything myself. This isn’t out of hatred. It must be done, for the sake of not wasting more of my time.

  I internally acknowledge this manipulative attitude of mine is diabolical. However, my sincerity to see goodness in others won’t let me lie and say it doesn’t exist in Tanner right now.

  It emerges when he begins to slowly nod. “I should get my people packed and ready to migrate.”

  “Thank you,” I slingshot at his hustling figure.

  He turns back to look at me, but only with one eye. And that eye shows tremendous anxiety.

  Yes, do that. If you don’t…I don’t know if I’ll prevent undead and hazes from hurting them. They won’t hurt me, but…I won’t give the command to not hurt you, like I was able to with Trey.

  When Tanner looks away, my mouth and lips make expressions that look like I ate something foul. Where it comes from is the reminder of everything that put me here.

  Who put me here.

  Claw said, as part of his explanation before shooting me, I would likely have to take a vehicle for being on some sort of offense. He’s always right, isn’t he? Always lucky with predicting what will happen…

  In this position with irrevocable consequences, the least I can be grateful for is they have a way out to escape. Trey’s fate weighs down hard on me always. From here on out, it’s a reminder to me what happens when I choose not to see.

  I didn’t see that even he had an out, and it was not to tag along with me.

  With what I plan to do, it’s with knowing I’m not to be the hero here. I’ve tried so hard to believe that the greatest of intent will always topple the worst.

  I’m wrong.

  I could potentially kill all of these people, knowing I’m wrong. Tanner and his assistant’s people think their reason to use me is the greatest. It is, and my reason to draw undead here is the worst.

  When Tanner refocuses on me, I explain how I’ll need to first meditate in order for me to gain conscious control over the things we can’t see around us.

  Yet.

  I haven’t seen any around this area. It doesn’t matter.

  I begin without his consent, and he doesn’t bother trying to open up my eyes when they shut. I only hear his anxiety chiseling down to a core of pure fear of the unknown.

  He breathes harder and faster, but it won’t stop me.

  Thank you…

  I drain the clog in my emotions. I allow no more pain from my damaged thigh, or from what these people have made me feel. Anger, pain, and encouragement to be diabolic slip away. I’m simply at will to reel in my new following.

  I’m Gary, once a rockstar to the living. Now? My following is the things that shot my career into obscurity. Forever.

  My lips bind up a smile, and I can’t erase it off.

  We are one. You undead are me. I am you. There’s no difference in us. Come to me, I’m here. Come to me, I want you to. Come to me, we are one. Come to me, I…need you. Come to me…

  I concentrate hard to listen in on the surrounding wilderness. The slightest rustle of leaves or crack of a twig is what keeps me meditating. But harder, so it may deliver me to where I must go.

  Swarm and congregate, my beautiful—

  An alert comes as a sudden shriek of a woman from the bonfire. “Guys, get back!”

  Chapter XLI

  Beastly snarls and erratic pacing from intrusive stomping comes first in front. Then, a little to the right. I ignore both indicators of madness colliding with the maddening. My destructive state of tranquility isn’t interrupted by any of this.

  Keep coming. We are together, and one. Pure, we are. Come…

  Her voice, so terrified, is now uncaring how many whimpers it reveals when passing me. Her voice becomes only one of several running away. I pursue this drive of terrorizing further, without having to so much as lift a finger to accelerate the process.

  Come, and run them all off. Let them lead themselves far away from us. Come…

  There is no sorrow, or regret, that I feel with knowing how many scared feet trample past, slipping on the pebbles—likely because of their absolute worry of getting anywhere near me.

  There are quite a few I hear trip, skid on the ground next to my unaffected position, then run themselves to the ground more after scrambling back up.

  Tanner is petrified, but I won’t open my eyes or mouth to push his fate from being any more at a standstill. I have no anger, but I won’t break concentration from worry that I’ve done something wrong.

  Even though I logically understand I thought I was wrong before this meditative state.

  There is nothing wrong with them being here. You, Tanner, are what is the problem…

  I can’t catch what spills off my tongue and the concentration’s silence breaks. It confirms my absolute hold over these undead at this point.

  “RUN HIM OFF!!!” I shout from the deep bowels of within me.

  I open my eyes at the same time I command it. The numbers of the undead by far exceed what I could envision in these lonesome woods, or even a ten-mile radius, would gift me. I see Tanner. He’s the focal point all of their line of sights are stuck on.

  Because he’s the only human left.

  He gives me a panic-stricken look, not as a man who knows his way around the world, but a child who can’t comprehend anything other than a “boo” by the monster he fears.

  Me.

  “RUN HIM AWAY!!!” I reassert to my undead masses.

  They gargle and howl with the sounds of horrible ecstasy, as though I’ve boosted their energy, their stamina, and their purpose. They’ve become the example of my control.

  Tanner’s being subjugated by this sight. He panics and lets out a cry when the ones behind him start moving in closer. I allow this to also prove I’m not to be used. I’m not one to be given as a trade-off.

  I grit my teeth when I put more weight on the wounded thigh Tanner helped heal. I viscerally make it apparent to him this monster in me is not able to be communicated or reasoned with.

  I took from Tanner, and he’s fortunate I’m not blood-thirsty for his life to be taken as well. But, like a man morphing into a monster where he’d give a caution to the innocent around to flee now and never look back, I have to venomously bite at him, “WHY AREN’T YOU GONE!!!”

  It’s indefinable to know how horrified he is, and how, probably on the back burner of his mind at the moment, humiliated his stature as the brave one in charge has eroded. I can feel the vibration as Tanner rushes past me in a blitz. It’s clear he’s running to wherever he can close his eyes and weep in disbelief to what’s he’s been exposed to.

  Perhaps, he finds me more sadistic as I stand here, cold-shouldered, and not flinching once to when the undead trample each other, some brushing their shoulders with mine. I stand in a crowd. They’re going about their daily lives, and they have no idea they’re moving me forward—the controller.

  Do I smile? I touch my face to find out.

  My lips are lifted at the corners to make a U-shape.

  Disgusted, but I’m barely on the verge to let my mind wrap too heavily about it. Otherwise, I worry I’ll lose control over the ones still swerving, bumping, and drooling themselves to a mess that drips on my shoes and jeans.

  So I stand here, and wait
. While I stand, I give a stance that puts the most weight on my wounded thigh.

  Feel the pain. Feel the life of today. It keeps the chamber of this Russian roulette allowing you to feel anything, especially a chance of happiness. Your people being alive, and you being closer to them, feel this pain. Love it like you love her, him, her, and him.

  Especially her… Lissie.

  Chapter XLII

  Minutes have flown by with me in frustration. I’m sure it’s caused me to lose connection with the undead. It doesn’t matter to me anymore, though, since they have a duty I put on them.

  What happens to Tanner and his people, it’s their own story now. One without me—even if I’ve started it.

  But, the frustration isn’t me thinking about the guilt lingering within my head from what’s recently happened. It’s the guilt in my heart I’ve grown from not learning how to hotwire a vehicle. I curse to myself, thinking about a missed opportunity I never considered up until now.

  If only I let Ashton instruct me on this procedure. I was too busy then trying to deny everything around us. The apocalypse.

  “Ashton knew how to do this,” I mutter, regret loud in my tone.

  I give out irritable sounds, as I strain with the discomfort of reaching and stretching below the driver steering wheel to expose the wires. I’ve seen this moment done in movies, TV, and even music videos.

  “You can do this,” I encourage myself.

  But, trying to take off the plastic covering below the steering wheel, I grow discouraged again. I’m unable to break it loose. Then, I feel moronic when I realize the plastic covering’s being held by screws, ones I was unknowingly hiding with my hands.

  I’ve no experience in this, because Ashton always took up the responsibility, advising I simply would keep watch. I was content with standing on the sidelines, so dependent on Ashton to never even bother learning how to properly do it.

  Personally, I’m starting to wonder if Ashton wanted this ability to remain his thunder, and he didn’t want me stealing it by learning how to hotwire on my own.