"Like I said when my life was in danger, he didn't pull the trigger when he had the chance" Maya explains coolly, using me as a tool to further her point.
"You're here now though?" Ben points out the obvious. "Yeah, cause I'm a survivor" Maya jokes. Though, the statement is clear. She didn't need me or Marcus. If anything, I bet she would've been fine without us anyway.
"I told you to leave him out of this" I finally butt in again, lashing out at her. They are not booting me to the side that easy. Then, they become quiet. Maya smirks, Ben smiles.
"What?" I ask meekly, a sudden shyness rushing over me. Something’s going on and I haven't got the slightest idea what. Maya continues to chew away. Ben reloads his rifle, one well-placed bullet at a time. "What!” I say again, raising my voice louder to get the point across.
"You didn't fight against anything I said about you. You protected your friend instead. That's something there" Maya says, winking at me. While she begins to blow a small bubble with the gum she's got, I contemplate smacking her.
We both know I'd never do that though.
Well, on what she said, I don't know what the surprise is? I'd trust Marcus with my life. I've known him two years and we are closer than someone I've known ten.
Maya then turns her attention to Ben. Her expression is still stony. Seems as if it isn't just me now, she's keeping the same bitchy look for everyone. "I'm sorry Benjamin, I haven't even introduced myself. The names Maya"
"Ben is fine," his tone changes to match hers. It's rather scary how he suddenly went from a smiling goof with me to a hard attitude with her. They share a single nod. "Can you check my rifle out, I think I got a pretty bad jam in it" Maya observes her rifle which she had placed down beside the table. "I'll do it in a few," Ben says. Does either of them trust the other?
Then, it clicks in my head as they talk about exchanging rifles. "Could you both teach me?"
"Not until you learn how to become a man" Maya insults me instantly. Holy shit, she didn't even think about that one. Like, damn! I know she is right but I can't stop my pride from feeling, diminished.
Ben and Maya exchange rifles; Ben fixing hers and her cleaning his. A fair trade for the both of them. But neither one wanted to do something for the other without benefiting themselves. You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours comes to mind. I don't understand but I guess that's okay. I'm just a boy...
A boy who needs to learn how to be a man. How though? Like, where do I even start? Everyone here seems to be in some sort of mindset to deal with what is out there. Maybe that is why they all survived? There's a reason these people are here and alive. Heck, even Chloe has probably had to get up close and personal with the creatures. They are survivors and I am-
"Quite a burden really," Ben says sadly to no one.
"Okay, what?" Maya is even confused. Taking her boots off the table and sitting upright for once, she faces Ben sternly. Probably thought he was talking about her gun.
"That Chloe girl" Ben continues.
"Nah, she'll be tough as nails once she recovers mentally" Maya smirks, confident she knows what she is talking about. "She'll go numb which can be just as bad as it is good" worry evident in Ben's voice. They get on well. Ben's a caring guy with a cheery personality. Maya's dependable, someone you can rely on if she can rely on you. Yet, she really dislikes me and Marcus. Is it the bad blood we have between us?
"Hey, what about that Cody guy?" I ask the question now that no one has thought to ask yet. Both Maya and Ben look at me and then each other. I guess I am finally in the conversation?
"Well... I haven't been here long enough to say anything. What about you Maya?" Ben throws the question onto Maya who thinks carefully about this. No one asks me, so I think up my own answer. I would say Cody seems kinda shifty. No doubt he must've been hit hard by all the events that have happened today.
"I wouldn't trust him" Maya's grip on Ben's rifle gets harder.
"Really? You think so" Ben seems weary, clicking something in her rifle before inspecting it once more. He flips the safety on and off before holding it out in front of him.
"Yes," she insists, caution in her voice.
There's a knock at the door, and we all turn to face Marcus. My first thought is the purple bruise around his eye...
"Guys, we have a problem" Panicked, Marcus tells us to come with him. Within seconds, we are all up on our feet and running through the ranger station...
Chapter 7 - Flare up
Ed
The fresh air gives me a sense of calm, relief washing over me despite everything that's happened today. Standing on the front porch of the ranger station; I lean against the wall. My eyes fixated on the shining moon above, its light illuminating the world below. The area still has power, luckily for us, electricity might last us a day at most. After that point, we'll have nothing. The station itself has its own backup generator that will power the building for two days after that. Once we reach that point, we either find fuel for the generator or a new light source altogether.
Wrinkling my nose, I breathe out heavily, flaring my nostrils as I push away the hostile scent that is the burning tobacco. Smoke floats around me, its source being Marcus's cigarette. The breeze from the lake is too weak to force it elsewhere tonight. Marcus hasn't smoked in months. Tonight he picked it back up again. "Want one?" He suddenly says, offering me a fag. His eyes squint against the smoke. His hand outstretched with the cigarette packet in the open for me to see. Only three cigarettes still remaining as he gobbles them up one by one. Three in the last hour alone. Frowning, I send a look of concern his way. "You know I don't smoke... Besides, you were doing so well with quitting" I voice my worries to no avail.
"Suit yourself" His voice a dull monotone. A figure moves within my view from the car park. Officer Miller paces around the patrol route created by Patrick. He has a rifle in his hands and a pistol at his side. Wilson isn't far, being on the opposite side of the car park following the exact same patrol path. Both of them making sure to avoid the scorched part of the car park were a ceremonial funeral was held for the huge pile of bodies that we burnt away. It took all day for it to be reduced to nothing. Became a fierce bonfire at one point, the smell was revolting. Now, it's not so bad. Nothing but embers left on charred pieces of bone and cloth. Patrick occasionally comes outside to check on the Officers. Sometimes switching shifts as well. Officer Davis rests at the moment, having finished his shift. Only three Officers and one SWAT Commander, so where is everyone else?
I saw several of them die alongside the Sheriff but...
There has to be more. This place is huge! Even worse is the fact that no one else has arrived. The last person was Ben. Plus, it's been quiet. Too quiet. It's eerie. Tonight has a suspenseful atmosphere. It was difficult for those inside to fall asleep knowing the outside world harboured so much death. No one is safe. Maybe not even from each other. I glance at Marcus, knowing not long ago he had tried apologising once more to Chloe but instead, he accidentally woke her up from her sleep. It's not his fault, he had no idea she was snoozing away. Ever since he woke her, she hasn't been able to nod off. Chloe's been blaming Marcus hatefully for a while now. Cody passed out in the armchair at some point. A mechanic magazine placed over his eyes. I haven't seen Maya since Patrick rounded us all up outside to give us bad news.
"I am sorry to call you all together again. But you all deserve to know. Two teams were sent out to search and rescue. Neither came back. More teams were sent to the radio tower before any of you had arrived. There has been no response either. I know rumours have been spread. Yes, there were more of us. Where are they and are they alive, I do not know. That is all"
My stare-down with the moon comes to a draw. No one blinked, so I think we can call the game quits. "I don't think I can do this..." Marcus draws my attention back to him, his dry voice finally saying something other than how much he hates himself.
Marcus takes a puff from the cigarette before blowing a waft of smoke around us. Holding
my breath, I wave my hand about frantically to remove the stench. I always hated the smell, but I put up with it so I can be with Marcus right now. He needs it. To be fair, I think I need it just as much. "Sorry," Marcus says coldly, flicking the cigarette down the staircase.
Next, he walks down the staircase, three steps down before stepping on the burnt out cigarette, twisting his foot into the ground and crunching it into dust. Marcus turns, looking at me, his face blank. "Do you think it's safe here?" He asks. Is it safe here? I don't know. "Why?" I ask him instead.
Marcus looks away, watching the Officers in the car park. Marcus is not the same man he was this morning. "The bridge to the south, we could leave and find help..." Opinions start coming out, doubts appearing in our minds. I don't know what to think... He's not wrong. We could try and leave. Grab a car and make a run for it. Marcus whispers something, sounding like he is scolding himself before I can voice my opinion. "Our chance of surviving this mess is this mess of people. We stay here-" Marcus pauses to think for a moment. "For now" Those words sent a shiver down my spine. The hairs on my neck stand up. Dudes’ giving me chills from how deathly he looks right now. Marcus pushes open the ranger stations door and disappears inside. His words still floating around my head.
For now.
Is there no chance? Are we not safe here? This has to be the best chance we've got. Sighing, I look back up at the bluish moon. I always thought the sky looked beautiful. Something I think many people take for granted. The stars are out tonight as well, giving a pretty array of different colours. It's stunning, to say the least. A part of me wants to lie down and enjoy the spectacle. A performance is on tonight and missing it would be a waste. Then again, lying down on the floor in this godforsaken place? Nah, I'm cool thanks. Hmm...
That star is quite, red? That's odd. And, now it's moving too. Surprisingly fast actually. No, not red. Now white. No, no! Now red again...
It's a helicopter and a blessing...
"Patrick!" Barreling through the front doors of the station, I spring through the reception, into the lounge. "PATRICK!" I shout again!
Running at full speed, weapon in hand. Patrick sprints towards me, leaping over the sofa like a pro. Officer Davis following after him, his eyes look heavy, dragging the skin down around his eyelids. Cody wakes up, yawning in the corner of the room. Ben was chilling on the sofa, now standing up to see what all the commotion is about.
Patrick's face contorts into an irritated look. He seems annoyed that I'd call for him. His shotgun in hand in case something had gone wrong.
"There is a helicopter flying past!" I practically scream at him, joy overflowing from me. The fear is gone. Can we be rescued? This is it! OUR LUCKY DAY! Patrick's jaw drops as he turns to Officer Davis; not wasting time he makes a hand gesture and within seconds a flare gun is thrown at Patrick who catches it without even thinking. "Hold this!" Patrick shoves his shotgun into my arms as he sprints outside like a crazy man.
Three, two, one...
BOOM
Stepping outside, I watch as a spectacle of red smoke shoots into the air like a firework. The night sky is ruined by the smoky dark red. The helicopter can still be seen... I watch Patrick smile. He knows as well - this is it...
We are about to be rescued. I can go home. I am not going to die.
"They aren't slowing down..." Patrick says darkly. Eyes glaring at the hunk of metal in the air that flies right on by, ignoring us like the ants we are. Wilson runs up to Patrick, slamming his hands into his chest; causing Patrick to stumble back. Too startled to fight back, Patrick just stares in shock.
"Patrick, we can't be firing flare guns!" Wilson bawls at him. "What do you want to do, let every creature for miles know where we are?" He screams in his superior Officers face.
Patrick bounces back, getting in Wilson's face and sternly barking. "I don't know if you've noticed, but there is a fucking helicopter in the air RIGHT NOW!"
Officer Miller tips his hat up, wiping his nose and snorting. All the hope is gone from him just as much as it is from me. A defeatist look appears on everyone around us. Ben is out here, Cody as well. "Well it isn’t coming back," Miller says before turning around and searching for something in the darkness beyond the car park. A pit begins to build in my stomach. An overwhelming sense of dread shoots me. Officer Wilson seems shaken as well, hands clutched tightly to his rifle as his will is tested.
He breaks.
"EVERY FUCKER FOR MILES IS GOING TO SEE IT!" Wilson screams at Patrick who closes his eyes and sighs. "Well if they do we'll have to be ready, won't we Officer Wilson?" Patrick is calm and sophisticated all of a sudden. As if the helicopter incident never happened. Wilson sees this, gulps and nods.
"I don't see anything" Davis calls out from the ranger station, his handgun drawn and ready. Patrick grabs the heavy shotgun from my hands. The door opens and footsteps thunder from behind me. I'm guessing everyone is awake now. Bright red light takes the moon's place, covering us in a crimson red. The performance has ended for tonight.
Marcus tugs my arm, saying it is best we go inside. I'm in too much shock to care. I can't believe it. Our only hope was just destroyed. Shattered into a million worthless pieces. Whoever is up there left us for dead. There is no way they couldn't have seen that. Maya takes a place beside me, her eyes twinkle a ghastly red as the flare reflects in her eyes. She seems to be in a daze; her hatchet hanging loosely at her side. Only, it's Cody who speaks up on my other side. Under his breath, the truth comes out. "That man is gonna get us all killed..."
Chapter 8 - The Radio Tower
Ed
After the flare incident, the rest of last night had left us with a head and heart full of anxiety. Everyone feared the worst. Even the bravest of us were shaken. All of the Officers were put on guard duty all night. Patrick kept constant supervision. I couldn't sleep. Even after the mess with picking the rooms and going through the heartbreak of sleeping in a room customised to a dead police officers liking. It felt like a huge invasion of privacy. The photos, possessions and contents of the room were tailored to suit the Officer who slept there.
I just couldn't do it. I would close my eyes and lay there. Sleep never came. My brain buzzing, too frantic to let me do what I want to do. I ended up staying in the lounge, resting peacefully on the sofa. Hands over my chest and legs kicked up on the arms with a cushion below my head for added comfort. For the first time, I was allowed to have some time to myself. This was my time to have some space to think. The conclusion of my thoughts was going as numb as possible. Shaken, terrified, and scared was the result. I don't even think I am going to make it. Hell, I got this far! It means something...
Or am I just a burden to those who are with me?
The sun comes, spreading light over the lakeside resort. When the time came and everyone was up and about; we kept to ourselves, minding our own business. Grabbing some food, a cup of coffee, or whatever, it doesn’t matter because we all stuck in our own bubbles and did our own business. Marcus and I never spoke so that struck me badly.
The uneasy peace does not last forever. Eventually, we are all called up like puppets. Patrick’s standing in the centre of the lounge again, addressing us all with a look of guilt for the other Officers. He gives an apology, saying he should have thought about his actions and discussed with the group first about what we should have done. Like a democratic vote or something. Of course, the answer would have most likely have been to shoot the flare anyway because at the time, no one would've known that helicopter was going to strand us here. No one really cared, but those who were able to sleep felt remorse for the Officers who had stayed awake all night. Poor guys are exhausted, having marched back and forth for hours and hours. We thank them graciously. Unsurprisingly, the bad news comes, making us all shift uncomfortably. I feel myself sweat, my armpits getting damp unknowingly. I grab the hem of my blue top, wagging it forwards and backwards to regulate a breeze like an air conditioner. I take a breath, fear already growing inside me as we
all take in the information. Such information is more in the form of an order. Maybe even a demand.
The Carnage Trilogy (Book 1): The Carnage [Unbending, Unyielding, Unforgiving] Page 7