The Integration (Part I): Still Myself, Still Surviving

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The Integration (Part I): Still Myself, Still Surviving Page 8

by Marlin Grail


  The trees around are very thin, with no leaves on them. They make it easier to see what lies within them.

  How will we exist in plain sight, no longer discreet from others? Moreover, what effects have taken a toll on those others who 'work' in this organization? Are they stripped down of their own leaves, voiceless and impaired from freedom of their choice?

  Only time will tell, and, once again, time feels against us, as each second counts down our current way of life for today.

  Chapter XI

  We are walking up the mountainous terrain, currently on the thin and narrow path we took. “Where do all of you think those other paths we have seen would lead us?” Ashton asks out loud, while massaging his right ear.

  “I have no idea, and I'd prefer not knowing.” Lissie replies, with her tone disinterested.

  “I'm sure they'd be safe to explore, and most definitely were they created for us to know where they go.” Janice inputs, sounding more open-minded.

  “Maybe we should venture them today, Ashton. We should at least be knowing of where they take us.” I tell him, thinking of true possibilities. “We might have others around closer to us than we think.”

  We get up the path, seeing the other mysterious 2 on both our sides, but the spectacle at the moment we see is Will savagely slamming his fists into the undead that remained laid out on the ground from our last encounter. He has equipped his knuckle brasses, which are getting stained from the blood that squirts out of their skulls due to his brutalizing force.

  I look around to see 4 he already killed himself, but 1 still alive is walking its way towards him. I zoom in all of my attention on that undead, pulling out my sword and readying to take care of it, but I feel a hand land on my shoulder. “Wait, Gary, let me have this.” Ashton tells me, already assuming my 'yes' present before he actually hears it.

  He pulls out one of his knives, and sticks it in the frontal lobe of this undead. The body goes limp and falls as soon as he pulls back his blade. Will is still exerting much anger and energy on the skull of the undead that he's already killed, while he sits on top of its body. “Okay, Will, that's enough!” Janice yells out.

  He continues to pulverize on the skull, which seems to have completely collapsed of structure. I go over to put my hand on his shoulder, but Ashton beats me to it. Immediately, as soon as he does though, Will backhands him in the face. “Ashton!” Janice yells.

  While he backs up in pain, Will stands up to follow him, inducing much terror to Ashton, making him struggle to take steps away from him. I extend my arm to block Janice, for she is trying to run over to Ashton. “Stay put.” I tell her, this time not accepting a denial to my protection.

  She does not fight it, for then I run up to Will. He goes to guard his stance from me, but I twirl clockwise around him, and while in the midst of doing so I extend one of my legs to trip him forward, as I move behind where he planted himself. He tumbles down. Janice waits until Will is not a threat and rushes over, grabbing Ashton, and they get back to where Lissie is.

  As soon as Will puts his hands by his chest, like doing a pushup, he looks behind himself to see me, which then encourages me to take out my sword. “Will, restrain yourself!” I command, while pointing the tip of the blade at him.

  Grunting can be heard as he gets himself off of the ground. “Harold does this to us, and now I'm the bad one?!” he ferociously says.

  “You just hit Ashton. He is not your enemy!” I yell back.

  Will takes several moments, but begins to control his breathing.

  “Everything that was about Harold is dead to me, which means all of you are dead to me!”

  “We are not the danger here, Will, but we, I, will not accept behavior like this in the group.”

  He then decides to try and dissect the argument into his favor. “How many people have you killed with that sword, Gary? Are you okay with the thought I might rush at you, and are you brave enough to actually swing it? Have you swung it at people before, not just at the undead, but at an actually living, breathing, person?”

  “I told you I don't keep count.” I tell him, cautioning him to watch his tone.

  “And, why is that?”

  “… Because I have not needed to.” I respond, tripping my words with the statement, but spoken out regardless.

  I am not ashamed I have not killed people with it, but I am growing ashamed that I am letting Will's prodding engage me in this game of his.

  “Because you haven't needed to what? Kill people?” Will asks, mocking in his voice. “So, you just point that at me, when you've never used it to hurt a person, and you expect me to fall to your command?”

  “Will, I've killed before. You know that. But, I haven't needed to with my sword.”

  “So, I could walk up to you now, and I'd be safe from it, right?” he taunts further.

  I slowly put my sword back to its sheath, and see the maniacal laugh he wants to release, but the smile on his face disappears when I pull out my pistol at someone for the first time today. “I don't need to kill with it when I feel most acquainted with this.” I say, overweening to him like I haven't done before with any of our group.

  He stands silent, but decides to egg me on by spreading his arms.

  He's gesturing I shoot and prove myself right. Well, I won't—as long as he doesn't try anything first.

  “Will, I'm not going to kill you, but I will protect my group however I have to. You're either with that group, or not, but make that choice now.”

  “If this is my chance to leave, then good. I'd much rather be in the wild and on my own.” He responds, becoming more ill-mannered as we stare each other down.

  “Then go. Go, and have the freedom you want. Become the leader you've always thought you deserved to be.” I tell him, passive-aggressive in my tone once again.

  He continues to scowl at me, and he then directs the look at everyone else. Janice views him with fright and disappointment. Lissie has a look with the mentality that I contain right now, except her only language she provides is that of a middle-finger. Ashton, infuriated, doesn't even look at him.

  “Fine.” Will states, now surprisingly seeming offended and aggrieved. He grabs his radio and tosses it on the ground, next to where a recovering Ashton is standing. “I'll go. It's what I should have done yesterday.”

  I would discourage him to go back where we all still remain ignorant about, but he is now his own man, and his own survivor now.

  He begins walking down the path we all came from. While doing so, he passes Ashton, Lissie, and Janice, who all spread off to the extreme sides of the hill we are on to avoid close contact with him. He turns one last time to me. “You want to be a good leader, Gary?” he asks me, being rhetorical.

  I won't offer a response, because, now, I am not his leader. He is now his own.

  Janice tries to convince Will to stay, but he acts as though we are not behind him. We are currently non-existent in his mind. Closing this one chapter with him, shutting my eyes from stress of it, I remember my philosophy.

  Let others' chaos be their own.

  I emotionally bid ado with Will, put my gun back in my pants, and I go over to Ashton. His face presents a visible, purplish, bruise placed across the right side. “Are you alrig—” my question proceeds, until abruptly ended by him.

  “Don't worry about it, Gary. He struck me as a foe, and not as an ally.”

  I look at both Janice and Lissie, concerned for what they feel about his departure. “I'm sorry, Gary,” Janice says, while picking up the walkie-talkie off of the ground, “I wasn't able to help him.”

  “There is nothing to be sorry about. Like I said, none of us could help him. If he needs to be on his own, then so be it, but I will not let one that breaks off from us break all of us off.”

  I look over to Lissie, which she firmly acknowledges what I say with only a nod, but there is no actual care being shown in her eyes. “Okay, the 3 of you stay close behind me. We need to continue.”

>   Janice ensures she stays closest to Ashton, so she can be fastest in response to any trouble he feels from the attacks he's endured today.

  He has always been impervious to many strikes and blows in the past, and often times he would move on with no recurring angst, but I can sense something is different this time. I know him and Will did not have a close relationship to begin with, but it seems when Ashton considers somebody trustworthy and they squeeze and crumble that trust he put in them, he becomes very disconnected to their very name.

  We travel, walking in silence, up until we get to the first fork in the road we saw earlier. “Hey, Gary, why don't the rest of you go back to the shelter. I feel like seeing where this other path goes.” Ashton says, shocking us all—considering his recent injuries.

  “You're not going on your own,” Janice promptly tells him, cuffing the forearm she's had hold of with both hands now, “you need to rest after what you've dealt with.”

  “I just need to know where it goes!” Ashton maintains back to her, with a little attitude in his tone. “Janice is right. We need to rest and recuperate from what has happened, but, later on, if you still want, the both of us can check it out together.” I say to him, attempting to be reasonable to both his and her perspectives.

  He clearly wants to have something that forces him to not think about his pains.

  He inhales a big breath of letdown, but accepts my compromise. We continue up the inclined path, and after a few minutes, the shelter is seen locked and vacant of danger. “Looks like that haze did move on.” I say, pleased, but also obscured by my thoughts—since we know who truly cleared it for us to now call this place our shelter.

  We then all rush to get to the front entrance. Fortunately, I still recall the 3-digit code on the lock.

  I am glad, that even after all of the events that have unfolded, my memory has the flexibility to recall numbers.

  Ashton helps me open both doors, and we let Janice and Lissie get inside first. I make sure to take the outside lock with me before we both enter behind them. I unite the doors together enough without closing them entirely. “Well, now what?” Lissie asks, bleak in her tone.

  “Relax, eat something, or take a nap.” I say, perky in my serious tone.

  “Gary, none of us can relax. You clearly are safer off from the rest of us, so maybe you can relax, but we can't. You clearly appeal to any ass on the face of the earth, so obviously you'll be okay. But I-I don't know if I can.” She tells me, trepidation dictating the sound of her voice.

  “Do not doubt your ability to let this circumstance be on your side.” I say back, trying to sooth her concerned status.

  Silence is in the shelter for a few moments, and I go to place my weapons in their spaces.

  “Why do have to always sound so not-emotionally involved, never really seeming as though you partake in what really is around you?” she asks, genuinely baffled.

  It takes me aback. “I am involved, Lissie. I'm involved with the conversation we are having now, and I have been this whole time we have known each other.”

  “You sound so sociopathic most of the time. I guess that's good to have in a leader.” She says with a lower, more saddened, tone.

  I am now standing opposite across from her and the bunk she is standing next to, but now we intensively look at each other.

  “Lissie, I care deeply about everyone here, and you are right. I am weird with not reacting to most problems like majority, but never think of me as emotionless. I am this way, because if I let my emotions flow freely, then I would be the exact extreme that I am now. I cannot allow myself to run rampant at the cost of your reliability on me.” I explain, now being vulnerable more than I typically show, taking huge breaths to control myself.

  “I'm not relying on you,” she bluntly says back, “I just need someone on the front lines, so I can escape the cross-fire, and I just wanted to know if you feel anything at all, so I wouldn't feel bad if you died!”

  Ashton and Janice are quiet, with Ashton looking at me, and Janice looking at Lissie. I quickly turn around, and strap my weapons back onto my body. “Well that's good to know then.” I say, bluffing her to think I'm not affected by what she has said. “I'm going back out to see the paths we have not explored yet. If it doesn't bother you, I would like my gun back.”

  “Wait, Gary, let me go with you.” Ashton says, holding out his hand as he says it.

  “Are you still hurting?” I ask him.

  “The sting is barely there, so I'll be fine.” He alleges, tapping himself on the face to signify he can sustain pain.

  I drop the bag I had been carrying next to my sleeping area, and have my hand out, waiting for Lissie to return back the pistol I gave her. She slams it hard onto my skin, but I pretend as though she did no trauma. “Janice and Lissie, you 2 stay to guard the place. We'll be back later. Listen for 3 knocks on both the left and right door.” I firmly state, while looking at Janice most of the time.

  “You don't expect us to stay here in the absolute darkness, do you?” Lissie says.

  I then glance over to her, and stare sensitively for a couple of seconds at her, though her eyes refuse to look back at me.

  I understand. Out of admiration for you, I'll look the other way too. It's guilty admiration, but I'll keep it.

  “Just be sensitive to what is outside, and be ready to shut them if something unwanted comes.”

  That being my final statement to her, Ashton and I exit the shelter and go back down the path we recently came back from. “I'm really not hurting much, Gary, but what about you?” Ashton asks me.

  “Let's just get further from the shelter. I need… distance right now.” I respond, confining my true feelings.

  I was an artist, and artists feel deeper about certain things. I suppose it's good I have a few traits of being like an actor.

  Chapter XII

  This time, we go to the right path on the fork road. I am consistently replaying the last conversation Lissie and I had, which becomes more stinging each time I hear her words in my head.

  “Gary, you've done nothing but remain the collected one here, and all of what Lissie said was just her acting on her instincts, because she's not knowing what to think of our condition.” Ashton tells me as we walk down the path.

  “Am I being unreasonable here?” I ask him, stopping us in place. “I just want to keep you all calm and in-sync with each other, but should I be doing it at the cost of myself?”

  Ashton just looks at me, making me feel more isolated than being understood.

  “Gary, what do you want? Not as our leader, but as your own person?” he softly asks.

  I scramble to think of a response, knowing that, truthfully, the main image in my mind is… Lissie.

  “I want—” I say, ready to admit my peaked interest in her, but, suddenly, a loud shot can be heard in the distance, with the continuation of gunfire afterward.

  Just like it began, my vulnerability ends.

  “Should we—” Ashton prepares to ask.

  Before he can answer, I quickly say, “Yes.”

  I do not plan for us to run in to purposefully engage, but I do in fact want to ensure whatever battle is going on stays in that vicinity, and no participants of it come to our shelter's area. Re-imaging Lissie's panicking has readied me to ensure she doesn't raise in stress from this either.

  The shooting sounds are very close from where Ashton and I are located, so we proceed with extreme caution. The path takes us to what seems to be an actual road—a divided highway, which seems to ring familiarity in my mind.

  We must have been on this road in the RV.

  Our path is blocked by several large stones, which I'm sure makes the appearance of it not that noticeable to the naked eye at first glance. Ashton and I take cover behind them, and listen to the firing—perhaps 100 feet away to the left of us. “Ashton, stay down. I'm going to peek at what's going on.”

  Carefully, I look over, trying to keep my head down from being seen.
The skinny and leafless trees surrounding the path make it more visible of our movements, so we hug onto the stone barrier in front of us to better preserve our incognito. I aim my vision to our left. “I see 3 people, taking cover behind a van they've parked sideways to hide from gunfire.” I announce to Ashton, whispered directly into his ear.

  I look around further to see a body near the van, laid out lifeless with their rifle still in their hand. I cannot see who the ones alive are firing towards—only that they seem to be struggling to suppress back at their enemies. Examining their vehicle, their van's tires appear flattened from well-executed blows.

  After several seconds of no firing from the opposing side, they adjust to time their shots right, and seem to reach a point of seizing the upper hand of the fight. “The ones behind the van are now charging.” I let Ashton know, this time patting him on the shoulder so he can take a look for himself.

  All of them seem to get prepared, but 1 of the 3 stop and lower their weapon in bewilderment. I now realize they are looking straight back at where we are located. “Ashton, don't move, but I think one of them sees our position.” I tell him, being slow with my mouth's movement.

  I receive conformation that he notices something interesting to him, for he dangles his weapon by his side, as he is fully intrigued by what he is gazing upon.

  Is it just the path he sees, and not us?

  The man gets dragged back into his situation, as one of his comrades scream for him to get a move on. “Is he still looking over here?” Ashton asks, concerned.

  “No, but I don't know if he will come back.”

  “Then we should take this time to retreat.”

  I think of what the man might have seen.

  Whether it was us, or the stone structure he caught eye of, he is bound to tell the other 2, and they're likely bound to come over here.

  I worry about how far they will travel up the path, and definitely concerned about them finding our shelter. “Ashton, I have to go and get involved.”

 

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