“Gwen, you’ve got to let her make her own way if she wants to. Sure, she’s your daughter, but she’s also her own woman. Let her be independent if she wants.” Zach suggested.
Gwen immediately shot down his words, “But that’s the thing. Even though she wants to be independent, she doesn’t know how to, exactly. She can’t look after herself. The first time she left me, after London, people around her died, and then there was a god damn nuclear missile attack, of all things.”
“Yeah but Gwen, even if Annabelle was with us at the time, that missile still would’ve been launched. Annabelle had no abetting in that.” Zach defended her.
But still, Gwen had not fully made her point. “The second I gave her such freedom; she was influenced too much by the people around her. I mean Elliot,” she hesitated for several seconds, having not mentioned ‘that’ name since the incident. “Elliot’s ideology was all wrong, yet Annabelle liked it. If I let her go now, she’s bound to come across someone just as, if not, more, evil than he is… was, yes, was.” She reiterated that point to herself.
As Zach prepared to form a counterargument, his debate with Gwen was interrupted by a voice on Gwen’s radio.
“What the heck?” Immediately she drew it up to her mouth and spoke into it, “Hello? Is someone there? Can you repeat that please?”
She waited several seconds, then the same feminine voice answered again, “Gwen? Is that you?” She clearly recognised Gwen’s accent.
“Um, yes? It is? Who is this?” She was slightly uplifted by a familiar voice.
“It’s Erica! Holy shit, Gwen! You’re alive!” Erica sounded jovial.
Zach and Gwen exchanged bright smiles and laughter – they had found an old friend…
Chapter 20: Shattered
Kristina’s eyes fluttered open. As she awoke, her eyes were buffeted by the bright lights around her. She instantly covered her sight with her hand, and she groaned deeply.
“Kris? Kristina!” Bertie’s familiar and loving voice tended to her. “Thank goodness! She’s awake, guys!” He turned around and shouted back.
Tina appeared at Kristina’s left side. Looking up at her longingly, she tried to thank her, as she had a feeling that this was the woman who had been keeping her alive.
“Can you hear me, Kristina? Please, nod if you can hear me.” Tina requested.
With some difficulty, Kristina nodded her head. Her neck clicked, due to a recent lack of movement.
“Alright, excellent. Can you speak? Try to say… ‘Pineapples’,” She picked an obscure word.
“P…P…” Kristina could not get past the ‘P’ sound without hesitation.
“Pi…Pineap…Pineapples,” her voice was quiet, grumbly, and hoarse.
Tina nodded down at her and smiled, “You’re going to be just fine.” She looked over at Bertie, “Stay with her. Call me again if anything changes, ok?” She parted the two of them.
“Thank you, Tina!” Bertie watched her leave the bedside with his beady-blue eyes.
“Where… Are we?” She croakily asked, in a tone not too far above a whisper.
“Well in summary, we’re heading towards Prague. But as luck would have it, we’ve found a survivors’ camp before then!” Bertie was overjoyed. “That’s good, right? Hey?” He nudged her slightly.
“Yeah,” she forced out a smile through her aching cheeks, “That… That is… Good…” She coughed deeply.
The ‘refugee’ camp was really just four walls built up around a community area. As such, there were public toilets within the walls. Inside the gents, Elliot stood alone, resting his arms on a sink bowl, staring into his reflection with disgust. Despite how much he had changed, and the kind of basis he now lived by, it seemed Reed’s death had taken a far more ‘classical’ toll on his mental health.
Against his will, Elliot’s life had been saved. From the burning trailer, Reed had pulled him out, and taken him to the medical house.
“Come on, Tina! He’s losing consciousness! Please hurry!” Reed rushed Tina; who had returned to the Camp just a day earlier – Though ironically, Erica had already taken off looking for her. She had decided to stay in case her former lover came back as she had done; this was the primary thought occupying her mind right now, rather than Elliot’s condition.
“Just give me some space!” Tina gently shoved Reed back from her. She grabbed some towels from the table next to the bed Elliot was on. “Run these under the cold tap!” She forced them upon Reed. Obeying her orders, he darted over to the sink, turning the cold nob all the way to maximum.
“Don’t die on me, Elliot. Don’t you leave me as well,” she injected him with a syringe, as his groaning spiked slightly. “Come on, come on, please,” she awaited visual confirmation of her idea. “Dammit!” She clenched her fist and slammed it on the table.
“What is it? What’s going on?” Reed kept looking back and forth between Tina and the towels he was holding under the tap.
Elliot’s groaning did not fade away, “The drug’s not working. Hurry up with those towels!” Tina shouted at him.
Reed handed her the first towel, then began wetting the next.
Tina wrapped the towel around the back of Elliot’s shoulder; where his burns were most severe. Again, his wincing sharpened momentarily.
“It’s ok, it’s ok…. You’ll be ok,” she tried to reassure him.
The door was kicked open, as a bulky middle-aged man stormed in. “He’s still alive, I knew it! I thought I saw someone drag him from the fire!” The man marched towards Elliot, as Tina began shaking, gesturing to Reed to hurry.
“Ned, please don’t do this.” Tina begged for Elliot’s life.
“Oh, you want me to show mercy to him? You mean like in the same way how he showed mercy to my brother? One mistake, he made one mistake, god dammit! Yet still, that was enough to justify Elliot’s killing of him…”
“The Camp was become overcrowded!” Tina blurted out, “Of course Elliot had to start killing people! Of course he needed to implement a system! Otherwise, no one would’ve had any idea what the fuck was going on! We all would’ve died! Can’t you see that?” She pointed out to the good aspects of Elliot’s seemingly corrupt nature.
“And can’t you see that we’ll do anything to survive nowadays? That’s what Elliot did. He killed people, so that there were less threats to him. What he didn’t count on however, were the consequences. He must pay the price. We all have to! For everything we do! Now, my dear nurse, walk away. Just walk away,” Ned gave her a chance.
Tina thought back to when she and Elliot first met in London. Ever since that place, she had always stood by him. She thought to herself that she’d be damned if she gave up on him now, “No…”
Ned laughed sinisterly, “You’re pro-Elliot? Really?” His conniving smile dropped into an evil frown, as did the bridge between his eyes. “Guess that’s just how it’s gonna be then.” He pulled out a knife from his side. Reed dropped the towels in the sink bowel, and drew out his hunting knife in a similar fashion.
Ned looked over at him, “Seriously? You’re defending Elliot as well?”
Without words, Reed looked over at Tina, then back to Ned. He nodded in affirmation, with stern eyes.
“Then let’s dance!” Ned accepted Reed’s knife threat, and charged at him. As Reed readied his knife, Ned dropped into a tackle, picking Reed up by both his legs, hoisting him over his shoulder. He shimmied him down his arms, and threw him with great force at the wall. As Reed staggered back up, Ned kicked him in the gut, again with great force.
Tina was torn between helping Reed, and helping Elliot. Opting for the latter, she grabbed the towels from the sink, and applied them to the other burnt areas of Elliot’s body; his arms, his legs, and his chest. Only his face was unscathed.
“You’re pathetic, boy!” Ned taunted Reed, as he kicked him hard in the gut a second time. Due to how winded he was, Reed began to wretch. As he motioned to vomit, he looked up at Ned, and projected the vo
mit directly at his face. Ned deeply screamed, as Reed’s sick stung his eyes; he dropped his knife subconsciously, freeing his hands, and allowing them to rub his eyes.
Taking a chance, Reed leapt over to the knife and equipped it. He drove it into Ned’s throat, as his dark brown eyes shot open – barely visible through Reed’s vomit.
“I may be pathetic, but at least I’m still alive,” Reed taunted Ned back. Raising his leg high up, he kicked Ned in the chest, and knocked him to the ground.
He watched as Ned bled out for a moment, before his breathing began to pain him again. He cradled his stomach area, still winded from Ned’s blows.
A while later, Reed and Tina sat next to each other, slouched back against Elliot’s bed.
“Are you sure he’s gonna be ok?” Reed asked Tina, worryingly.
“Yes,” she answered once again, “He’ll be absolutely fine!” She said this with such confidence, that Reed didn’t realise the uncertainty hiding behind her tone.
“Thank you, Tina,” he raised his eyebrows at her whilst showing his gratitude. “Not just for saving Elliot, but for everything since we first met back at that seaside town… Crikey, it’s really been a while.” He daydreamed, trying to project just how much time had passed since then.
“You’re telling me,” Tina nodded competitively. “Before Elliot came along, I’d spent the entire apocalypse in London… Price, Beth, Cora, Steven, Olivia; everyone. They’re all gone now. It’s so weird just how many we’ve lost along the way.” She avoided mentioning Erica, still hopeful that she may come back still.
“My father,” Reed added, “Vincent, Andy, Pierre,” he smiled whilst walking down memory lane, “You’re right, we really have lost a lot of people.”
Tina turned to face him, looking directly into his eyes. “I did love Erica, but…” She smirked at Reed slightly, “I’m not exclusive to women.”
Reed looked back into her eyes, realising where Tina was taking the conversation. She edged closer to him, causing him to stand up and back away. “I… I need to piss,” he awkwardly swallowed, then left the room; stepping over Ned’s corpse as well as his own vomit as he left.
Feeling lost by Reed’s rejection of her, Tina sighed, and rested her head back against the bed.
Unknown to her or Reed, Elliot had been wide awake for some time now; eavesdropping on their conversation.
Elliot’s remorseful expression had devolved into an angry frown. Reed had always been there for him. The aftermath of him nearly burning alive was just one example of that.
As Elliot’s mind snapped back to the present, he shook his head despairingly. “It’s not fair,” he clenched his right fist, and began to shake unnervingly, “The good die…”
His fist turned red, and then purple, from the sheer violence of how tightly he was gripping it. Pulling his entire arm back, he punched the mirror as hard as he could, shattering it. His broken reflection stared back at him through the cracks.
“Elliot? My friend, what have you done?” Asked Xavier; someone whom Elliot had met upon arriving at the refugee camp. He was originally from Spain, having been arrested and imprisoned in Germany, but after being released, became Christian; an unorthodox man of God.
“I’m… sorry…” Elliot’s breathing and heart rate were irregular.
“Come, let’s have something to eat, shall we?” Xavier took Elliot into his arms, guiding him out of the toilets.
“Is he alright?” Asked Natalie – Xavier’s daughter – Who was waiting outside. She was in her mid-teens, though was still wise beyond her years, likely due to the apocalypse.
“He’s fine… My dear Natalie, would you help us to the dining area? Please?” He gestured for his daughter to assist with carrying Elliot.
“It’s fine,” Elliot said lowly, “Just bring me Reed… Reed can help me. Just bring me Reed…” He repeated.
“They say breaking a mirror is seven years’ bad luck… I guess when Elliot was a young child, he must’ve smashed up a glass factory.”
Chapter 21: Socialising
Xavier and Natalie finally brought Elliot to the dining area, and sat him down at a table. Next to him was a boy in his late teens, named Taylor; he reminded Elliot of Zach a lot. On the other side of Elliot was man of equal age to himself, named Scott. Next to Scott was his younger sister Maria, and next to her Natalie sat down. Naturally, Xavier sat next to Natalie. Between Xavier and Taylor, and thus completing the circular table, sat Eric, a technological expert in his 20s; though what use was this profession now days?
“Eric! I need you!” A shaky female voice called out from the hallway.
“Oh seriously mum?” Eric was British, which surprised Elliot; especially given how his mother spoke with a German accent. The others at the table laughed, as Eric rose out of his seat.
“That was Eric,” Xavier pointed him out to Elliot, “That’ll be his mother Dawn whom he’s being called to!”
Despite not meaning to do so, Xavier had triggered more deep cuts in Elliot’s mind, specifically, the word ‘mother’…
He looked around the table at everyone else, desperate for somebody to break the ice; though he himself was not willing to do so.
Meanwhile, in a small office with a radio transceiver, Annabelle tried several frequencies, putting a challenge out on several radio waves.
“Alright, I’ll say it for the third and final time… If you can hear me dickhead, and you know who you are… Then make your way down Autobahn 17. I’ll see you, and I’ll see you before you see me… Just because you killed my friend, that doesn’t mean I’ll meet a likewise fate. I don’t even know why you did that, but you can come and tell me in person, whoever you are. Autobahn 17, just head East on that motorway, and I’ll… Greet you. If you don’t show, then I will come out and find you regardless. You get me? And don’t think I won’t find you, because I always do. When it comes to the apocalypse, I’m the damn goddess of it. Things go my way, always… You’d better believe it. Over and out.” She stopped speaking, but left the channel open, hoping for a response from Reed’s assassin.
Bertie visited Kristina’s bedside once again. She was more awake this time however.
“Are we… In Prague?” Her head jerked around, still numb from the aftermath of the infection.
Bertie laughed, “Nope. Not quite yet I’m afraid. But listen, I’ve been talking with Elliot and the others. It’s looking more and more likely we’ll get there, Kris. It’s gonna happen. We’re gonna make it, and we’re gonna live!” He optimistically informed her.
“Bertie,” Kristina’s head was still jerky, though she could easily shake it in disagreement. “Bertie my friend, after everything that happened on the Gemini, do you seriously think that we can live again?” She had a look of deep self-sorrow on her face.
“Yes,” but Bertie’s optimism was unwavering, “I really do, Kris. I believe we can do more than live even, I think we can rebuild. Everything that we’ve lost, is just like everything else that’s been lost ever: We can still find it again.” His smile was definitive.
“But not everything which is lost, is also found,” she played along with his metaphorical-wording.
“No, you’re right, but this isn’t one of those things. When enough people look for something, it can be found. And I mean, here, at this camp, all of these people, it’s more than enough to rebuild some sort of system. Some kind of society. Elliot’s dining with some of the ‘locals’ right now. We failed on the Gemini, but we won’t fail down here on Earth.” He reassured her, as he gripped her hand with hope.
“Bertie,” she softly spoke, “I… I…” Gagging on her words, she began to choke, her head now jerked more extremely than before.
“Kristina? Kristina!” Bertie wrapped his arms around her, “Tina! Tina!” He shouted out. “Hang on Kris! It’s gonna be ok! You hear me? You’re gonna be just fine!” His grip tightened, believing somehow it would calm her. “Tina! For Christ’s sake! Tina, please!” He yelled out, partially in an
ger, and partially in desperation.
Finally, Tina drew the curtain back, and appeared at the end of the bed. “Kristina!” With quick thinking, Tina pulled a syringe from her side pouch, and injected it into Kristina’s forearm.
“What have you done? What is that stuff?” Bertie was concerned, as he felt Kristina’s body relax into his hold.
“I’ve sedated her. The last thing we need is her spewing out her guts. I’m also gonna need Jodie. Get her for me, would you Bertie?” Tina requested this with two intentions: Explicitly, for assistance, but more implicitly, so that Bertie would be out of her way, giving her more space.
After dining with some of the ‘locals’, Elliot socialised with Scott, and his sister, Maria.
“You’ll have to forgive me for saying this but, where are you two from? I can’t quite ‘work out’ what your accents are?” Elliot said this with great guilt on his mind, as though he had just asked an offensive question.
Scott and Maria looked at each other and laughed, “You do not have to ask it as though it is rude, my dear Elliot.” He reassuringly smiled at him, “My sister and I were born in Belarus. Although our mother was British, our father’s side of the family had always had an odd tradition: Everyone had to be born in Belarus. So, at 8 months of term, both times, our parents flew out to Belarus for a ‘holiday’, in order for us to be born there.” Scott enlightened Elliot.
“Oh wow, that’s pretty cool actually. You guys must be, what, 5 or 6 years apart, maybe?” Elliot now tried guessing their ages.
“Almost. Nine years, actually.” Maria answered in place of her brother.
“Huh. You look a lot closer than that,” he unintentionally complimented them.
Human Nature (Book 2): Human Nature II Page 11
