Still Myself, Still Surviving: Part II: The Realization

by Marlin Grail

  I want Gary to take care of that man for us all.

  I’m huddled and relieved, even as several men behind me lay lifeless, but this is their punishment that they earned. They were okay letting their “leader” rape another person? The dazed and confused around us may feel for them. That’s more than they should be getting. Oblivious pity.

  Gary, with his sword still in hand, moves through the crowd. But it’s a more that they cleared the path for him. I’m sure his image as the wonderful singer he was just minutes ago is gone forever.

  He’ll forever be a misconception of the greatness he truly is. He doesn’t lie or warp who he shows himself as, and, right now, he’s showing them what lengths he'll go for the ones he loves.

  Suddenly, around the corner, C. appears.

  He blocks Gary from passing, with his revolver in hand.

  Chapter XXX

  (Gary)

  The ferociousness I have towards the man who tried to rape Lissie ends up coming out towards the other person that’s tampered with our peace.

  “Get out of my way!”

  C. remains in place, only to cock his head in shock. “Gary, you know to not raise your voice at me, don’t you?”

  “I’m not interested in playing this with you! Let me pass!”

  My demands don’t appear to ring with importance to him. At least not as much importance as it is to me to receive confirmation of that man’s death.

  “Why, Gary, you killed some of your own. Don’t you realize the consequences?”

  I’m baffled by his irrevocably calm tone, but I don’t doubt he’s fabricating it. It’s what he does. “They were never to be trusted! They tried to kill me, and…rape Kayla!”

  He still thinks that’s her name, just like he thinks I don’t know his own secrets.

  My yells sets the people next to us to back away. C. takes to notice this. “Easy, Gary. Okay, so, that means then they all have to die?”

  How many have died under your care, C.? So many people you’ve manipulated to believe in your whole “convince or kill” method! Many who I know didn’t deserve to die did. And worse, there’s many that I’ve seen live under your name who’ve done things that would make any sane person question why they got to live over the other. Why did Jacob and Mitchell not make it, and why does the supervisor remain alive?

  I visibly make it known to him I’m not standing down, but I’m smart enough to see he has a gun pointed by his hip. “C., you know as much as I that they were causing trouble long before this trouble even began. If you need my convincing, I’d tell you they should’ve been left behind, and we should’ve moved on without them.”

  C. moves his aim away from me and down towards the front of the building. “That was him who tried to hurt her?”

  With my vicious nod, I firmly show him I’m more than eager to get over to the man. Currently, I’m working every strain of mind power to not give into the pleasure to see him writhing in pain.

  C. puts his gun against my chest to hold me back. “No! You’ve caused enough trouble scaring these poor folk!”

  What’s scary to me is thinking he’s lied about who he is to not just to me, Lissie, or our whole community of people. It’s the fact he’s keeping his peace-making persona on him at this moment. I know he brought the gun out of its holster for me.

  If these people weren’t here…I’m sure he and I would be colliding as full-on enemies.

  I clench my jaw tightly, glaring deep into his eyes. I’m confident with the position I have my sword in. If we battle here and now, I’d be able to give a quick slice to his thigh.

  What breaks my concentration is when he gives into my persistence.

  His bull horns back away, the equivalent being his gun and overall body. He grants me an opening to storm past him. One statement exits my mouth to him as I pass.

  “I won’t be long.”

  The dead man, but a few short steps away, finally rises off the ground, exceptionally fast as his eyes meet with mine.

  “Watcha’ gonna’ do wit that, Gary the—”

  He has no freedom to finish that question.

  I lunge with my blade. There’s a piercing moan of pain, before I commit by pushing my sword all the way through. A shiver travels up my spine when I have to apply extra force to ensure maximum impact.

  “I’m sorry, but if you know what it means to truly earn love, and not take it, then you’d know you’d do anything to protect it!” This rips out of my throat, animalistic with its tenor.

  Gasps occur from behind me. His body drops hard to the ground, nothing but flesh toppled onto the hard pavement surface. His eyes are wide, unable to accept what’s happened to him.

  I’ve seen these eyes before. What’s chilling this time is that I don’t feel sorry for him. I don’t feel sorry for any of his group. I’m not a good person, but I’m not bad.

  I’m Gary Nillon, and I’ll do what it takes to protect all that I care about.

  C. makes himself vocal, again, clearly unaffected by the man’s execution. “Oh, Gary! You owe me on this opportunity!”

  I don’t owe you anything, whoever you are. The only people I owe is the poor community here. They’re the only reason I’ll throw these bodies over the fences. I can’t be okay burying them now.

  I release grip of my sword. It tips over on its side, but only because the weight of it within this lifeless man’s chest gets pulled by gravity, which also tips the body to its side.

  I turn towards him. The men and women surrounding his sides view me in complete horror. C. is the only face that isn’t intimidated.

  He doesn’t need to be. I’m not looking for a war.

  I roar, “All of this…I’m done!”

  “No, you’re not,” he calmly replies, still apathetic to the whole reason why I’ve killed an entire group of his—why I utilized my sword to slay the living for the first time. “As a matter of fact, you’ve shown me you’re more than essential for the mission. I need you, Gary.”

  The peculiar noises from behind, the undead, apparently have grown louder. However, not louder.

  Closer.

  Chapter XXXI

  C. lets out a gust of being slightly surprised.

  “Damn! Looks like O.’s gotten too eager!” he shares in a mock-whisper, as though I’d know what he means by that. He then turns his back to everyone as he walks in the opposite direction, into the darkness.

  I’m not chasing him down. I’ll take this as our farewell.

  Screeching suddenly erupts when the people rush and scatter. Some are familiar faces of C. followers. I purposely don’t study most of them, so as to not grow regret for my decisions.

  If anything, I’ve given Trey, and all of the others an opportunity to break free from this travesty C. has called an “enterprise”. I don’t have time to share the details with them, but I hope they conclude the recent fallout was more than just a “spat”.

  It was my willing resignation.

  An undead, immediately evaluated by me as haze-incubating, arches forward with both of its arms. I twirl past its body, fluently grabbing at my sword. My momentum tears the blade out of what used to be “Shades”. This is perfectly timed as I kneel in order to regain my balance.

  That undead looks to take me from behind, but it fails when I sweep a leg to trip it. It now looks like it’s replicating the kneeling positon that I’m currently in. I bounce off and sprint back to the building’s side in order to round up my group.

  The Chief suddenly blocks me, saddened and lucid even with his delirious kneeling on the ground.

  “Forgive me! Forgive me! He used us! I know now! My people, forgive me!”

  I’m grasping to understand if the AWOL person who spoke with me had also spoken about this with the Chief. Is this the punishment they all receive because of it? If the Chief and his people bowed to this C., why would C. risk his identity to his followers by attacking and destroying what he claims he helped build?

  I’m impatient to see my
people, but I recognize the Chief’s pleading won’t do anyone favors. I shake him by both of his shoulders, and lift him to his feet. “Listen to me! You need to get your people out of the fenced area!”

  I look over my shoulder, concentrating further down the street and past the numerous swaying bodies.

  That man who can control the undead, or as C. called him “O.”, must’ve opened and allowed the collective undead to move through! Were there were no watchers over there? Or, did he charm them to take a break? Once the charm has worn off, O. and C.’s deception is quite visible.

  I continue to instruct and encourage the Chief to follow through on his duties as these people’s leader. “All of you can help each other to climb over your fence! You must do this so that you save all that you can!”

  My words begin to drill into him. His eyes clear up enough to show me he’s accepting the task. “I will! I will!”

  A snarl emits behind, which I won’t take as more than a nuisance.

  I back kick to where I predict its stomach would be. This haze-incubator falls to the ground, and right when I prepare to advance past the Chief, he captures my attention again by attempting to stick his spiked rod into the body.

  “No!” I catch his wrist at the last second. The breath from the undead’s mouth fumes around us, but fortunately it’s not a haze. “Green eyes are bad! No poking or shooting at those with green eyes!”

  These are words he gladly pays attention to. We both fall back where the crowd that hasn’t dispersed from the building remains. I hurry past them all, intensely frantic in finding my people’s clothes, faces, voices—anything about them still around.

  I grow agitated when I crudely bump into shoulders on my left and right, but then I grow sorrowful when they fearfully make their distance from me. The musician I performed with just a little while ago nails his back to the side of the building. His bulging eyes and sweaty forehead cringes away from my gaze.

  I would never hurt any of you…and I’m sorry if you can’t see why I wouldn’t.

  “Gary!” Lissie’s uniquely-accented voice rises over the shouting terror.

  We’re just five people, but I feel fully back to our mold as survivors—great ones at that—so I don’t worry how we’ll make it out of this awful circumstance.

  “Guys! Follow!”

  In a breeze, they move out with me across the street, heading diagonal to a house opposite from the assembly building. Thankfully, the backyards of this lot of houses are right beside the perimeter’s fencing.

  There’s no confusion about what to do.

  Ashton and I provide ours hands as stepping stones. Janice climbs up and over first, then is followed by Lissie. Will loses touch with it being his turn, because he’s shooting off his gun at the few undead catching onto our whereabouts in the darkness.

  “Will! Move!” I flex both my mouth and hands.

  He responds immediately by following through and stepping on my palm, along with “What about the truck?”

  “We’ll get there!” I answer quickly.

  Ashton comes up next and is over. He has the responsibility of waiting on the ledge. “Give me your hand!”

  I quickly push two undead on their sternums, then catapult my arm to his grip as I jump in synchronicity to the full motion.

  He gives a strained groan, commenting the whole time, “My ass won’t sit right for a week!”

  I pat him with respect and affection for his assistance, before we then both drop down off the fence’s ledge. Janice flails with the purpose of finding out what else is next to prevail over. Meanwhile she holds onto Lissie’s hunched over, crying body.

  When this calms, I’m going to hold her so tight, that I’ll never want her out of arm’s reach. This desire will keep me going through this.

  “Everyone! Let’s head around to the front and get to the truck!”

  Will urges me to reconsider, his hand reaching out for my shoulder. “How are we to get in it and back out with all of the undead coming from that area?”

  C. implied O. had something to do with this. He should have control over the majority. He can direct them elsewhere, as long as it’s by his command. Last time I saw him, he was by the entrance. Whether by his choice or not, we’ll have his power be to our advantage.

  “We’re getting that truck, and I know how!” I say aloud, also explaining to them “The man that sat behind C. all the way here will help us!”

  “Are you certain of that?” Ashton doubts—only because he doesn’t know what I’m about to do.

  “You’ll find out why!”

  I take the nose point of the group’s hustle past and around the perimeter. I concentrate and listen to the streets, tuning out the various noises of the tormented and the tormenting.

  I’m sorry this has happened to you all. Your people deserved none of this. I just hope your Chief is filing his duty to his very core.

  I couple my sword back to my hands. Ashton and Will become the sources of light for our direction straight ahead. The undead swarming in through the fence’s opening stray to our position when they can see we are closer to fetch.

  They all fail to my swings and jabs, only to further aid in our pursuit to spot O. I see him standing by the tree he clung to earlier with such negligence to it and my observation. The fence’s hexagonal hole by him is just large enough for the tip of my gun to poke at his back.

  “You are but one second away from being gone if you do not obey me,” I menacingly growl by his head.

  Chapter XXXII

  “You sure you don’t want the key to this?” O. offers up slyly to me again. “You don’t know how incredible this feels!”

  I make my movement sharp and deliberate. “You listen closely. Command them away from the parking lot, and you won’t be shot to obliteration. Deny me now, and I’m wishing you a quick death.”

  His back slumps with awareness to my serious tone. Then, after several seconds of nothing but unpleasant twisted moans from the undead, he fulfills my deal.

  I see the undead roaming in spellbound cadence away from the vehicles. I extend the exchange further, ensuring he won’t send them straight back to where they came from. “Will and Ashton, you get the truck.”

  The sorcery is questionable to them all, except for Will, who’s shaking head. Not from being staggered by this sight, only from being irked.

  After this, we’re done with being around these mystifying revelations. We need the normalcy of this world again. Simply undead and hazes are what we’d favor over C. and his pool of lies and intimidation. Occasionally people, but no more.

  I focus my sight in pinpoint accuracy onto them, watching as their flashlights hit both the ground and air as they swing their arms up and down, notching the footwork with how fast they’re grinding the gears in their legs. The truck’s engine soon zings to life.

  It now sounds like the golden ticket to freedom.

  Lissie’s consistent whimper rouses a ruthlessness inside me. It proves to me that I’m more than ready to pay the price for keeping her safe from here on out.

  Once the truck arrives to our position, I imagine how close to whiplash Will could’ve caused himself because of the hard braking he did. I let my barrel’s pressure escape O., and in turn, he flees into his own army of disposable.

  They may be seen as worth that much in their existence, but we aren’t. We’re not disposable like them.

  We pack up our truck’s bed and take our bags out. I don’t take time to place my bloodied sword in its sheath, and only toss both of them in.

  I can’t hide it anymore. I won’t hide it. The sharpness and red doesn’t need to be hidden. I’ve killed people with it, and I can’t hide—won’t hide—this fact to the outside. It will rattle around back there, and I need to accept such a reminder of who I am now.

  I pile in the back seat with Janice and Lissie, hurting my elbow when it dives hard in the interior door’s handle. Our radios come to life, projecting a message, which is also a new remind
er of never having them on again.

  Not as long as he holds the fourth of our set.

  “Have fun, Gary! When you just so happen to drop by again, leave your suicide note for these fine people of yours where we won’t be able to find it. Else we’ll just tear it up.”

  That’s not a concern, because we never needed the backing of your organization to begin with, C. I’m just as confident about it as you are opposing it.

  Will already accelerates on the gas before Janice is able to fully shut her side closed, shielding us from any more of that sickening chaos. A second or two passes before Lissie pounces on my body, leaking tears down my skin.

  For the first time—possibly the only time this year since I’ve had an emotional exposure to this extreme—I find myself losing clarity in both my eyes.

  They fill up, until the tears can’t keep from dripping down my face. All I can comprehend at this moment, what I know I don’t have to question, is how much I’m grateful she’s safe.

  “Lissie… My love…”

  As I do my best to massage her hair, massage her pain, I shake right up when Will breaks us to a sudden stop.

  He rolls down his window, and then screams at the top of his lungs. His shrillness sounds like he’s being burned alive.

  I don’t have to think hard to know it’s about Alex.

  My voice sounds choppy, but I let my remark be not only for him, but for the rest of us. Sniffling me, Lissie, and Janice, and the unusually hushed and expressionless Ashton.

  “Alex will be fine. Even if he didn’t know it, he was preparing for this moment. Back there at the setup, we had been preparing for this moment…”

  Chapter XXXIII

  (Janice)

  Even though we never got a chance to fill up our gas tank, we drove for well over an hour in one direction. That direction being getting as far away from C. and his madness.

  We passed small towns, but we had no intention of making any stops. The really beautiful scenery around us had no meaning except when it came to slowing down. The peaks of different mountains only pointed us towards the way of being less likely found.