Still Myself, Still Surviving: Part II: The Realization

by Marlin Grail

Even without seeing the vehicle drivers directly, I could tell they became aware of this man’s escape method.

  He was better off on the top than jumping down. This tells me I have too much compassion for the threats which show no compassion in return.

  Kneeling down to help him, I moved Josh’s head so it rested on my left leg.

  “Gary, you leave me here! Do not let him get away!” he demanded.

  “I can’t! We’re together on this matter!” I argued back, gently and mindful of his wounded state. I then felt the barrel of his shotgun push right into my stomach.

  “You get him, for the sake of my group. I’ll be fine. Get me after you get him!”

  I took his subtle threat as reasonable to the cause because he worried about his group’s welfare.

  I take that into account myself. Even though I know my people can watch out for themselves, I’m still protective. And I’m still aware that I would certainly want the same end result if I was Josh in this moment.

  With a nod, I gently laid Josh’s head on the roof’s asphalt. I then raised my sword out from its sheath, all the while trailing right behind this man’s position.

  He looked back at me.

  I expected him to fire a round. Instead, he timed his second jump down off the building entirely, while I landed right where he was. My vision rattled when I impacted to the surface of this smaller roof. Watching from above, I saw him panic at the sight of the truck moving towards him menacingly.

  The moment I jumped again I heard him yell out, “I’m not a killer! I’m no killer!”

  Josh was nowhere near dead, but this man is still an attempted murderer. I will fulfill Josh’s possible last request.

  I landed only several inches away from him. He attempted to raise his pistol upward, but I reached down, ripping it away from his flimsy grip. With my sword’s pommel, I slammed it against the side of his head, swiftly muting his active consciousness.

  The truck stopped, and the driver immediately stepped out. “You got him! Nice job scaring him with the false shot I heard on the roof. I was wrong about you, New—”

  “Josh! He’s up on roof shot in the chest!”

  The second car honked and roared the engine even louder, so the undead would continue to throw themselves at it. Unfortunately, it appeared some began to catch on to our strategy, as a few walked over to where the rest of us were located.

  Without confusion, the three in the truck’s bed hurried the unconscious man into the vehicle. I instructed the driver to keep moving in pattern. “Once I get Josh, we’ll get into the back!”

  I raced up to the roof, hoping those last few moments hadn’t been enough to weaken Josh further.

  I pushed the door open, seeing him laid out, and raising one finger up at me. I placed my hand on his shoulder and exclaimed, “We got him! Mission successful!”

  With eyes barely remaining open, he stated, “Gary, when you get back, tell our supervisor you need to speak with my people. You must speak with them, especially to the blonde girl. My love… Tell her… I now believe in spirits. You heard the voice too? Please tell me you did.”

  He’s referring to the quick guidance from that mysterious voice, which led to being much more than dehydration.

  “I-I did.” I purposefully diverted away from the topic to ease his thoughts. Not wanting him to not behave like this, and not wanting to believe this was his ending point. “Relax. You’re going to be fine, Josh. You need to let me get you up.”

  He only turned his eyes away from mine, angling them directly up at the night sky. “The stars. There’s so much not known about life. I’m only a little speck of it all. But, she…she’s my whole world. Tell her this…please.”

  His eyes fell shut. That arm, with the finger extended, fell limp.

  I found myself rehearing his exact final sentences to me.

  They, like a possible encounter with a spirit, haunt me after the fact.

  I regretted that I couldn’t take him with me for burial. It didn’t seem fair or right. Suddenly, I couldn’t help but wonder if when we’re burying our enemies, we’re also burying all the friends we had to leave behind.

  Josh… Rest in peace…

  Knowing what little we had dwindled, and that the undead were beginning to wander towards the building, I quickly bid him adieu. I immediately pulled off a necklace he’d been wearing that whole time.

  His people deserve to forever remember his sacrifice. We all do.

  I hurried to the truck’s bed, landing right next to a guard who helped me resituate onto the wobbly surface.

  “Where the hell is—” he tried to ask, but I immediately showed the necklace. I then banged my fist against the roof of the truck, indicating we were ready to depart.

  An undead’s hand touched my arm as we began moving. I casually threw it off, rubbing away the grime it left on me. As I looked down, one sound blasted the whole environment.

  It was the sound of a freshly-born haze appearing within the herd.

  ***

  There is so much we don’t know about this world. We as a race thought we grasped the meaning of how the cycle of life works.

  Clearly, there’s plenty left to discover about it.

  C.’s created his own life cycle, one where death is more common. The fact this mission insisted followers of his to do it, rather than just him, means there’s more we haven’t learned about why another person has just been added to the list of “Fallen during Duty” …

  C.’s duty.

  Chapter I

  A couple of days have passed me by since those events. It seems I’ve let my distressed mind be cornered by Lissie’s concerns. I feel the soft pad of her hand gently tap onto my bare chest.

  “Gary, what’s the matter? Is it still about Josh?”

  Josh… This is why it’s prickly for me to learn real names from real people. Moving on becomes harder. It wouldn’t be a sore spot in my mind as much if I had just given him one.

  “I’ve come to terms with what happened at the site. It’s what happened when we got back here,” I respond, while intimately stroking her head as she lays it sideways along with her hand. “When we arrived at our supervisor’s roadblock, we escorted the man directly to C.”

  The expression he had was submissive and full of fear. I could tell, especially since he was doing his best to simply look at me, until C. clenched his chin to make them both view each other’s eyes.

  ***

  “C., he killed Josh,” I mournfully stated.

  “He was a life worth going through all of this trouble,” C. replied, sounding devoid of any emotional value with that statement. C. then began to show more vulnerability in a small exchange between him and this escorted man than he’d ever showed me or my group this whole month we’ve been here. “Brother, why must you lose faith?”

  It made the man start to breathe heavily, probably from also being uncomfortable that C. had one hand resting on the back of his neck, and the other resting on the side of his face.

  “I believe in your vision, C. I share it like you do, but the people you’ve recruited around here are too willful.”

  This remark tested the drone flyer’s patience with the blond man. It had already been pushed from when he kept rambling in the truck, mostly about friends becoming enemies. She was finally ready to swipe at him for this statement.

  C. eased her back down with an exaggerated “Whoa!”

  “You see what I mean? In front of her own leader, she was willing to attack me—possibly hurting you, too,” the man rushed in, desperate sounding to get his point across to C.

  In response, C. mumbled random sounds, giving a hand signal for us to all depart away from the area. “Gary, and the rest of you all, thank you for getting foes back to being friends.”

  Our supervisor stood right by C.’s left side. I knew this was more than the perfect time to ask for the location of Josh’s people. I took perhaps two steps when I received several noises of disapproval from those aroun
d me. C. instantly stared at me, looking cold in his eyes.

  “Gary, I believe I told you to leave.”

  “I know, C., but Josh’s last request was for me to go to his group. I need the location.” I stood in line of sight to both C. and the supervisor.

  “I’ll let you know later, Gary. Just go,” the supervisor replied sternly, uncaring to how important it was to me.

  ***

  Lissie smacks her lips briskly, with the sound of sympathy for me. “You did find them though. You got that responsibility off you.”

  “I did, but it wasn’t easy to have to share the news. Just handing that girl her love’s necklace carried so much somberness on its own. She already knew what I had to say before I even said anything. The residue of that is still sticking with me.”

  I wonder, because Lissie and I have become romantically involved, if I’m more sensitive to the idea of the both of us being in a similar circumstance, where one of us dies, and the other already knows it before the news is even shared.

  “You’re very noble to still have done it, Gary. As much as you have been here for me, I’m learning to know how to be here for you. Whenever you have a problem, you talk it out with me. Deal?” she asks, a warm half-smile ending her sentence.

  “I can absorb that,” I respond, happy to teasingly tap her on her nose’s tip.

  She giggles loudly, and the both of us playfully fight for who rolls on top of the other.

  This small mattress has made it perfect for us to know the familiarity of touching one another’s skin.

  However, without warning, the shelter doors begin to echo loudly with several pounds from a palm. “It’s us. Let us in.”

  I hear one of my group’s recognizable voice, yet my comprehension is mainly caught up with the fact Lissie and I have to envelope our mutual arousal.

  I couldn’t help just talking with her. Though I didn’t realize I drained away our time for more than that.

  I rip off the lock, grown used to its rigid sliding in and out of its hooking holes. With assistance from him, we open the doors together. The sunlight gradually peeps in on what was going on in the shelter. It reveals Lissie and mine’s exposed bare skin.

  Will, being the front of the line, is first to immediately see. He shields his eyes. “Oh! I’m sorry! You should’ve known when we said it would take us 30 minutes, we meant exactly 30!”

  “We weren’t doing anything! But, for once, try and knock first!” Lissie replies sarcastically, annoyed in her tone by Will’s suggestive statements.

  I’m with her. When alone together, we don’t always know where we’ll go from one act to the next.

  “We’ll, we’re coming in now!” Will declares, puffing in air as he goes through the threshold, climbing to the top of his bunk, then plopping down on his bed.

  Ashton is second to head in, with sweat drenching his newly sleeveless attire.

  “Were you guys running from something?” I quickly ask, rising into a sitting position.

  He only exhales deeply, then lets Janice speak for him.

  “Those two wanted to take the time at the wheat field as more of an exercise competition than an actual examination of growing the wheat itself.”

  “We should start a regiment of physical conditioning,” Ashton comments without insecurity to his drained appearance.

  Janice only chuckles, then climbs into her bed above Lissie’s and mine. “I think it’s interesting how it’s warm outside, yet the grass and field doesn’t want to rise from being dormant.”

  “It is December. Just like wildlife has been hard to come across, it probably has more to do with just habit of nature,” I muse.

  I’m not an expert on vegetation life, or an ecosystem’s cycle, but I know they’ve both adapted to the world’s negative influences by going into hiding.

  I then hear Ashton hiss like a cat. By my first impression, it sounds as if he has a wound. Will then confirms that impression.

  “Oh yeah, Ashton hurt himself on the fence trying to do a front roll.”

  Ashton quickly demands Will stay quiet, which only has Will spout with laughter. “Will is right, though. I did practice. To be honest, I did get a deep scratch, or two, on my right hand. Maybe later you could help me learn how to do one, Gary.”

  I wait to respond until I get Band-Aids from one of the bags. Then I overhear Janice tell me over Ashton, Lissie, and Will’s commotion that there aren’t isn’t any antiseptic.

  “That’s okay, Janice. The scratches aren’t that risky to leave exposed,” Ashton assures while scratching the wounds with his other hand.

  Janice audibly disapproves, sounding like sizzling meat being squished down when she sees him doing so. I quickly tear open a sticky Band-Aid, then tell Ashton directly, “Yes, I’ll teach you how to do a roll.”

  He provides me his other hand to fist bump, then he asks me how things have been.

  “They could be better.”

  “Oh yeah? About that thing?”

  “It is. I’ll keep my spirits high today though because it’s needed.”

  After I finish placing a few strategically placed Band-Aids across his erratically placed tears, he reaches to the drawer top where the journal rests. “That’s right. Group assembly. Something about observing the kids being taught about outdoor survival.”

  Will, making pleasurable noises from getting rehydrated off his water bottle, then makes the comment that “If these people got one thing right, it’s teaching the young how to stand on their own two feet—the way it would be expected now—because children can’t be seen as incapable to protect themselves and what they have from others.”

  The children of today, regardless of the era they’re currently living in, still should be seen as the future. People should want to encourage them to keep developing physically, mentally, and emotionally.

  I throw in my own opinion to it. “Certain aspects, and people, alive today might not want that. Like you said, Will, kids are more likely to be viewed as equals to adults, and could be seen as prey to some of them. If it can be helped to show those children they can rebel against malevolent forces that want to witness their collapse, then it’s worth contributing our teachings.”

  Will and I can see eye-to-eye on things healthier now than ever before. It’s a change that I appreciate, even if it’s because one of us has developed differently from how we were just a month ago.

  I hear Lissie practically launch herself off of our bed, strutting right to my back. She slings her arms to hug around my shoulders, and then says to me, “I hope we’re not needed to share personal accounts or suggestions of things. I wouldn’t have much to say.”

  I look at her with slight confusion, though it’s hidden under a tiny smile. “What do you mean by that? I know you would have a lot to say and share.”

  “Well, maybe, but I don’t think I would advocate children to do what I know.”

  That’s fair, Lissie.

  When reading the journal entry, I skim through it multiple times, as a means to hide my internal concern about something I still feel has to stay burrowed underneath…

  For now.

  I could be off, but we’ve been made examples of. No doubt, our supervisor seems to have a hidden distaste for me—just me.

  Could, or will, we be made examples of at this assembly? We best get prepared to leave, then I can fairly judge what instincts are going off inside of me.

  Chapter II

  A whole neighborhood’s worth of people is gathered in a hexagonal figure, surrounding a wooden platform right in the center of this vicinity, out here in the plain wilderness.

  I peer to the outskirts of this assembly, wanting to be certain any undead or hazes aren’t going to invade the area. Even when there are guards posted by nearby trees and rugged paths I’m zooming in at. Everyone’s vehicles do help to provide a solid boxed-in barrier between the territory we’re currently placed in, and the very space of uncertainty. Most of these people I have seen, due to the m
andatory meet and greets within the past month.

  That would be important to helping the children truly get comfortable around those you have no choice but to count on.

  Once the first person walks up onto the platform, the implication comes for all the people talking to come to attention. “Welcome, everyone! I’ll be the instructor for today’s lessons!” he announces. “Would the children please step to the front of their groups, so I may do a tally?”

  It’s at this point that I realize a peculiarity that gives our entire group a sense of self-consciousness.

  We’re the only group that doesn’t have a child appear.

  I have two ideas. The first, there’s a mix-up with our group and another’s. The second, we’re once again being forced as the oddballs that will draw confusion.

  “Excuse me. Would a child please step forward from your group?” the instructor formally asks us.

  “There are no kids with us,” I reply, certain eyes from others are watching, perhaps judging us from afar.

  “Oh, okay then. That must mean you’re the demonstration unit,” he responds lightheartedly, but, of course, it throws more curves down our straight understanding of this event.

  None of the journal writing said we were to help demonstrate. I’m sure it would’ve been written down by one of us if we heard it.

  I simply nod, not wishing to consume anymore of the time allotted to get the instruction going for these kids.

  A few seconds of awkward silence fattens, then swells up more when followed up by the instructor’s hand in curling motion directed towards us. “Okay, then. One of you come up here.”

  I take a quick glance over the rest of my group. It becomes a mutual agreement that I will volunteer. I rouse up from the horizontal log we’re sitting on, and head over to the platform. Even looking strictly forward, I still notice the curious eyes of all of the children watching as I move past them.

  Getting up onto the platform planks toggles the instructor to begin speaking. “Today, we’re going to be showing certain methods of basic, but vital, conditioning. It will undoubtedly give an extra piece of reliability. Keep in mind, even if this is more for your children, this could also be helpful towards bettering yourself.”