Chapter 4: Jason

The Road to France

Chapter 4

Jason

We have been walking for three weeks. Every part of me aches; my eye socket burns. Elektra looks like she is about to pass out. So, as you can infer, everything is going perfectly. There is one thing puzzling me; where are the Risers? It has been so quiet. We only encountered one hoard that we were able to pass while they were snacking on something. It appeared to be human but it is difficult to tell once the flesh and entrails have been removed. It's logical to assume there was more than one to occupy a hoard of at least thirty. It wouldn't be wise to try and take them on when one of us has only one hand and the other only has fifty percent of their vision. Don't misunderstand, we could take them before; the two of us could take a hoard, quite easily, but it is not without risk.

We stop at an overgrown park and refill our water bottles. The water is flowing, not stagnant, so it should be fine. The water does look slightly scummy but I heat the water over our spirit burner and allow it to cool. Louis Pasteur, eat your heart out.

“How much further?” Elektra inquires, taking off her shirt and placing it into the water. She examines the article of clothing with intense precision, not even noticing me.

“A few more miles, according to the map. We are making good time at the moment but if you want, we could find a vehicle. A bike or something,” she strikes me a look, “or not. Whatever is fine by me. We could find a shopping trolley if that would be more convenient for madam.”

“Don't turn this on me. You're telling me that you aren't tired? You are bullshitting me. You're no superhuman,” she then throws her bottle at me. I then stand up and run over to her , forcing us both into the lake.

“You b*****d!” she screams as she splashes me, filling my mouth with scummy water. I cannot help but laugh. She is so beautiful when she gets annoyed. She continues splashing me and I splash her back. She treads the water back to the bank and I grab hold of her and drag her back. She begins to laugh and kicks my arm; I let her go and then she swims to me. I take off my shirt and she grabs a hold of it, pulling herself towards me. We both burst into laughter. She pushes me against the bank and places her hand against my chest.

There is a moment of silence and she looks up at me. She has never looked more radiant than right now; the lack of the arm is a notable absence but it doesn't take anything away from her. I want her. I want her so badly but I know that it would never work. But moments like this make it even more difficult. The happy moments do not remove the bad but they coat them. It makes the negatives easier to deal with and it gives people a reason to fight. She removes her hand.

“Well I am completely soaked, you b*****d. We should head off now, we have our water,” she kisses me on the cheek and swims to the other bank. She struggles but eventually, she makes it and pulls herself up. She then walks over to her rucksack and takes out a white vest top. Do not look Jason.

“Come along slow-poke,” she yells and I pull myself out of the water. Elektra begins to rummage in her bag again and pulls out a black vest top for me. I take it and quickly pull it over my head. She laughs and closes her bag. She throws it over her left shoulder and begins to saunter off.

We have finally made it. It has taken us nine hours but we are finally here. I cannot tell you the feeling of exultation once we saw the sea, gleaming up ahead.

“Is that the English Channel? Oh my god, it is isn't it? Yes, get in there,” she said as she wrapped her arms around me. She has an intoxicating natural scent. The water helped remove the grime that had built up and the slight hint of body odour that had developed. She has a natural scent of something like lavender, mixed with some form of mint. I moved my hands down to her hips and lifted her. She wrapped her legs around my waist. She began to laugh which set me off. She wrapped her arms around my neck and I began to wave my arms in the air.

“We made it Lex; we actually made it! We find a boat and we can get the hell out of dodge. We can do it now, I am sure. Ha suckers!” I shouted and placed my arms around Elektra again. “Ha, put me down. Your hand is on my arse,” she said through a laugh.

“What's the magic word?”I said, nibbling her shoulder.

“Now, you b*****d!” she screeched, as I tipped her backwards. I laughed and placed her on the ground.

We now walk down to the pier. There are a hoard of Risers occupying a section of the harbour. They realise they need to congregate to find food most efficiently, a typically human instinct. Early man began to realise that it was easier to find and catch food when there were people to help them. There is an essence of humanity to them; it's just the most primal part that remains when the rest of the brain begins to rot.

“Do you think there will be boats? I mean, Max could have been right. It is logical that people would try and evacuate the country when things went to s**t. No power, boats would have a viable option,” Elektra utters as we approach the dock. There is no use in giving into those nagging sensations. If we cannot find a boat, we will find something else because you know something, we are plucky and determined. There has to be something out there. There has to be.

“There has to be something Lex. There has to be something left and we are going to find it. For everyone we lost because of that b*****d. Connor or something.”

“Connall. His name was Connall, Jason. Okay. Yeah, there has to be something. We've earned our ticket out of here.”

“Trust me on this Lex,” I say as I take hold of her remaining hand. She looks at me with the glimmer of a smile and then looks ahead again. She knows I have as little faith in this as she does but I am trying to be optimistic.

We finally make it to the edge of the pier and...nothing. Nothing. No boats; no jet skis. Not even a sodding life saver. Damn it to hell. Elektra just stumbles forward and slumps down, placing her legs through the rusted metal of the fencing. She sighs and looks out to the sea. We needed this ticket out of here. Why can we never catch a sodding break? I swear everything that could go wrong has up to this point.

“We can check further down the sea front. If there are no boats, at least we can get some kind of idea about the situation. There has to be some form of water transportation. There cannot possibly be nothing. There must be a tug boat at least. Who would think of travelling a large distance in a tug boat, I implore you.”

“Jason,” Elektra says.

“Yes,” I reply, puzzled at her interruption.

“Shut up. I swear you could talk for England. We need to re-evaluate our options. Maybe we should just stay here; try and see what there is available in Wales. Do we really need to go to the continent? There is no guarantee that it is better there. It could be so much worse and we could propel ourselves into the eye of the storm when we are in no fit state for a confrontation.”

She's right. She is undeniably right. That was Max's point. If things are not any better then we have just made our situation a thousand times worse. I don't think we can take the chance of that. Why is she always right? I was so certain or the plan before but, I suppose, the absence of a boat was the omen to secure the abandonment of this plan. But we have come so far, too far to turn back at the moment. Both of us are exhausted. We wouldn't make it to Wales at this rate.

“You are right. Fine, I will go to the telescope...thing at the end of the pier. It will give us an overall view. Then we can scavenge for supplies and hope we turn something up. That sound good to you?” Elektra exhales, staring out to the sea. She takes her rucksack off and places it to the side of her. She opens it lethargically and takes out a bottle. A bottle of some kind of spirit. Jack Daniels, the answer to all of life's problems of which there are many. She unscrews the lid and places it against her lips. She takes a sip and allows it to remain in her mouth for a few seconds before swallowing. She exhales, leaning back slightly. She then turns to face me, raising the bottle. I walk over to her and sit down. She hands me the bottle and I take a swig. It tastes absolutely vile. For a liquid, it has a drying quality. The back of my throat feels like it's burning and my mouth feels dry, as if the saliva has been sucked out with some form of tubing.

I would like to say it tastes at least medicinal but no. It tastes like perfume. I take another swig, trying to ignore the taste. I hand it back to Elektra and she continues to drink from it, not even thinking about it. I do not even know why I brought the bottle; I guess I thought we might need it for some unforeseeable reason, like the absence of a boat. We are screwed, well and truly screwed. I really wanted to believe that this plan would work but that's the breaks.

“I will look at the telescope. See what I can find. You stay here and keep the pier in place.”

“Sounds good to me. Jason,” she remarks, looking me in the eye.

“Yes Lex. Is there anything madam desires?” I inquire, trying to be slightly pedantic. That whiskey has gone straight to my head. That may have been the reason that I do not drink alcohol on a regular basis, it is far to suggest.

“I bloody love you, you know that. Don't get killed, okay?” she says as she tries to find her feet. That definitely went straight to her head. Drunk Elektra, this is...interesting. As she tries to get up, one of her legs gives way and I rush forward, trying to prevent her injuring herself. My hands grip around her waist and I lower her gently to the ground. I bend down and I kiss her on the forehead and she moves slightly forward to her original position. She'll be fine. She always is, somehow.

I walk a few metres and look at the surroundings. It does not seem at desolate as the other places. There is something undeniable serene about it and I don't know whether that is down to the vast expanse of water ahead or the lack of fire damage. It just feels...different which is calming and unnerving simultaneously. The promenade has various shops from restaurants to tacky tourist souvenir traps. I walk over to a particularly garish souvenir store and enter. I take my gun out of my belt and check how much ammunition I have left. Four bullets. That should serve me well for the moment. It does not seem to be overrun but appearances are often deceiving.

“Can I ask you something? Are you scared of apostrophes? You don't have to say every single word,” he utters.

“Are you critiquing my speech pattern? How about you criticise yourself before criticising me?”

“No offence mate, it's just that you talk like you have some form of superiority. You don't have to be so bloody formal; there is no point in it if you haven't realised,” he then takes a deep intake of breath and begins to cough, finally coughing up a lump of solidified blood. He is close to death, I know the progression too well.

“I have to go...find a boat. It was nice to meet you...Roman, was it? Anyway, good luck and goodbye,” I try to articulate without my voice cracking. I walk towards the door when Roman runs over to me and stops me. He grips hold of my arm and tries to pull me back. “What are you even fighting for? Please kill me! I am a dead man anyway! Please! I have the gun; all you need to do is pull the trigger!” he screams, falling at my feet like a defeated child.

“Get off of me! I am not going to kill you; understand this, I will not take a life. You want to commit suicide, be my guest but do not involve me,” I say, while trying to remove his grip on me. I will not kill another human being; there is already so much death in this world and I will not contribute to it. Killing the dead is one thing, killing the living is another thing entirely. It is his choice if he wants to take the easy way out but he can use his own hand to pull the trigger.

He then proceeds to bite me. He bit me! The sod bit me! I kick him off of my leg and I run towards the door. He grabs a hold of my leg which causes me to fall. “You b*****d! Kill me!” “No, I will not kill you! Get off of me, I am warning you!” “Or what? Will you kill me? Either way I get what I want! You will kill me Jason,” he implores me, placing the gun against the base of my skull. He is bluffing. He won't kill me, he just wants to scare me into compliance. “If you walk out of here, I will find your friend and I will...hurt her. I will rape her and then I will slit her throat. That will all be on you! Kill me!”

“You b*****d!” I roll onto my back and kick him in the chest. This force causes him to cough up another solid mass of blood. I try and crawl away but he grabs my leg again. I kick him in the face which causes him to yell in pain. I get to my feet and pick up my gun. I hear the door open behind me but I do not look back.

“Roman?” Elektra asks.

“Lex?” Roman screams. I continue with steely determination and I...I pull the trigger. I don't shoot him in the head but in the chest. I cannot aim. He holds where the bullet penetrated his chest and begins to gasp for breath. Elektra runs past me; I try and hold her back but she ducks and avoids my grasp. She bends down next to him and examines his wound. He moves his hand away and places it against Elektra's cheek. “I thought I'd never see you again,” he tries to mutter but cannot quite articulate the words. “Shh, it's okay. Don't talk, I just need to put pressure on the wound to stem the bleed. I didn't think I'd ever see you again either,” she says as she begins to place pressure against his bullet wound.

He winces but then smiles at her. I cannot move. What the hell have I done?

“I have thought about you everyday since you left,” he tries to catch his breath, “I tried to save them. I couldn't Lex but you're alive. You survived.”

“I've thought about you. I found him Roman, my dad. You tried, you tried. It's going to be okay,” she says, while stroking his hair out of his eyes. He begins to fidget.

“So you're his friend, huh? I'm glad you found someone, Lex. I should never have ever let you go.”

“Funny how things turn out huh? It's not like that at all. I still love you Roman, you bloody idiot. I'm here now, I'm not going anywhere. I mean really, we don't have a sodding boat,” she remarks, trying to hold back tears. Her voice began to break and, then, Roman tries to laugh. She is too close to him.

“Elektra...”

“Keep your f*****g mouth shut,Jason,” she snarls at me, shooting me a death stare. I just did what he wanted. She has no idea what he said to me; he threatened to hurt her and I just snapped. I was trying to protect her.

“Still a firecracker I see, Lex. What happened to your hand?” he mutters; he is fading in and out of consciousness.

“Some dickhead. It doesn't matter, none of it does. Just focus on my voice Roman. I have to take the bullet out; do you have any antiseptic and tweezers?”

“Lex, listen to me. There's no point,”

“Shut up Roman. Of course there is a point,” Elektra interrupts.

“No, there really isn't. I'm infected baby. I love you more than life itself but I am marked for death. I never stopped loving you but you know what you have to do, just as well as I d...do,” his eyes begin to shut. Elektra places more pressure on his wound, hoping the pain would wake him, but it proves ineffective.

“No, you complete and utter dickhead. You can't...you can't do this to me,” she pushes him but gets no response. Tears begin to stream down her face but there is no emotion behind them, there is just nothing.

“No, please don't leave me,” she whispers as she places her lips against his. I walk towards her, trying to make as little sound as possible.

“Lex, we have to go now...” She draws her gun on me.

“You take one more step and I swear to God, it will be the last thing you do,” she moves to cradle his head. She is never going to forgive me for this. She has never looked at me with such blind hatred. There is nothing I can say that will ever make this right. Elektra looks at her gun and finally looks at her surroundings; she slumps down and takes a bullet out of her pocket. She strokes the bullet, twisting and turning it between her fingers. I bend down next to her and try to touch her arm. She rebuffs me, elbowing me in the ribs. She places the bullet back in her pocket and places her gun against his forehead. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. I can see her finger begin to squeeze the trigger but she backs out of it. She can't do it; I can see that plain as day.

“I warned you Jason. Another word, I dare you,” she sighs as the blood drains from her face.

Abruptly, the sound of Risers corrupts the air. The silence that had lasted has been broken by the sound of gnashing teeth and the odour of rotting flesh. Damn it. Damn it, the gunshot must have attracted a horde. We have to leave now but I can't deny her a chance to say goodbye to him. I move forward and grab her from behind, trying to drag her away.

“We have to go. We cannot deal with this horde Lex. I know it is difficult!” I whisper, trying to stop her from fighting against my force.

“Get the hell off of me Jason! I have to do this! This is your fault, all of it! You b*****d, how could you do this? You knew who he was,” she bites me and then moves back. She looks at the horde and then looks at him. The horde are getting closer by the second. I take a screwdriver out of my back and move towards them. The closest one to us walks right into my path; I place the weapon into his skull. I try and take it out but it seems stuck. I continue to struggle, pushing against the deceased Riser's head but it won't budge. I can't see what is going on to my left side.

“Lex, a little help please,” I plead with her, praying that she is not going to leave me to my fate. I finally get the screwdriver out and move back, edging further away. Elektra just stares at him, trying to gain the courage to put him out but she keeps dropping the gun. She is breathing fast while trying to mask the deep sobs coming from deep within her chest.

I trip over and a Riser falls on top of me. A load of bloody saliva falls onto my face; the smell forcing me to gag. I force my screwdriver into his eye socket. I can feel it crack through the bone and reach the brain tissue. He becomes limp and lifeless so I try and roll him off of me. I stand up and try a new tactic. There has to be over twenty of them, all moving at similar paces. The nearest one, I kick the shin causing them to tumble to the floor. I then shove the screwdriver through his brain stem, rendering him motionless.

I kick another one down but, this time, it grabs a hold of my leg, dragging itself further towards me to secure a bite of my flesh. I kick him in the face which makes him fall back for a few seconds. After this, I grab his head and force the tool into the centre of his skull.

“Elektra, now! We have to leave now!” I scream at her, trying to get some reaction out of her instead of this mindless grief. She left him. I did what I had to. Why should I feel this guilty towards a known rival? I have made it next to her. We have no time left but I can hear the audible groaning coming from him. He is turning faster than the others. Maybe my bullet exacerbated the situation.

“Elektra, we don't have time! Now!” I shout, tugging on her shoulder. He is going to turn and the first thing he is going to do is bite her right in the face. She does not have to die today and I will not let that happen, even if it kills me to do so.

“Roman, I never thought we'd end up like this. You on the receiving end of my gun but you have to understand. John lied about everything in this world, I can't trust anyone. I need you but you need me too. You need me to do this, you total, total b*****d,” she says softly while he begins to open his eyes. They are completely red. He is going to take a chuck out of here if I do not act right now because she sure as hell will not do it.

“Elektra? Please! Give me the damn gun!” I yell, bending down to her eye level but she is not looking at me. She never has. “I promise you Roman; it's all going to be alright now. But I can't see things getting better in this world because you know what? Everything is so fucked. I'm sorry,” she mutters. She places her finger against the trigger as he pulls himself to her face. She places her hand against his face and smiles through the tears. She finally squeezes the trigger. I can see a wave of relief flood over her; she takes a moment and then glares up at me. She stands up and takes her knife out of her belt. She swings around and impales a Riser's skull on the end of her blade. She removes it as if removing a knife from a block of butter, effortlessly.

She just slices through their skulls; no emotion registered on her face but that air of a steely determination. She walks past me and I grab her arm. She looks at my hand and looks forward. She sighs and then runs for the door.

She is never going to get over today.

Author's Note

What do you think?

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

I like the friendship shared and the concern given in the chapter. I like the feel of realness with discussion and private emotions and thoughts. I like the way you led to the strong ending. A very good ending to the excellent chapter.
Coyote