Cruel Words

Elijah and Jake are just two orphan boys who thought that the Great Fallout War would be the worst of the problem—They couldn't have been more wrong.

"Ya know," he drawled out as he loaded his marksman rifle with a lazy, but precise movement. "It could be worse." Jake Kingsman slid the round forward into the breach of his rifle before doing the same thing with the bolt. The sound click that followed after echoed in his eardrums, and he tensed, cursing him for being so damn loud.

Jake called the old rifle his Lucky Bolt since not a single casualty had taken place under his scope. Which was why he refused to drop the gun for an automatic. No one could complain at the end of the day, however. Even though he took his sweet time loading, he would do so with the practiced ease of an experienced sniper. It was an adapted instinct to him.

Sort of like that horrible habit of speaking at the wrong place at the wrong time.

He didn't dare relax his finger over the trigger of his revolver just yet as his eyes switched about, searching for any misplaced shadow within the woods. He was too alert for suspicious movement, but nothing Jake said went on deaf ears to him. "Could you, well, I don't know, maybe shut up for once?" There were a few snickers behind him, but despite the roaring engine of the Fascoids in the distance, none of them dare raise their voice any higher. Not until he said so.

It had been a close call with the Fascoids. If it wasn't for Jake seeing them coming up the hill ahead of time, they would've already been chained up and lead to the experimentation camps twenty miles east of where they were. Not after a sweet torturous beating, and a few good lessons of death taught to some of them by the firing squad, of course.

The corner of Jake's lips twitched up. "Just being real with you, Eli."

Elijah Kingsman placed his hand against his big brother's face and shoved down. A muffled laugh tickled his palm as Elijah gave himself leverage to twist his body around so that his feet were near Jake's face. The dry trench they had hid in wasn't even a trench itself. It was a sort of natural, makeshift drainage of the woods where water would run during monsoon season. The soil was wearied down from constant gathering of water, but for the present, it was merely a dry little ditch that had saved their lives. He peered over the edge to make one final observation of the woods before he signaled the coast to be clear. Tension within the atmosphere was suddenly eased like a held breath being released, and suddenly, the rest of the group began to whisper and chuckle among each other, following Jake's example in speaking at the worst possible time.

"Hope those fascist pigs fall off a bridge." Samuel Goldin, who had been at Jake's side, eased up onto his knees, tucking his handgun into the waistline of his pants. He then brushed back the dry leaves and dirt off of his blonde locks before he hid them under his black beanie.

Jake followed their friend's example as he swiped off the dirt from his cheek. He then pushed himself up his feet. "'Protect and serve,' was their motto." Elijah clasped his offered hand and was tugged to his full height. "Should've known it was a bunch of bull. Now look at them wearin' the most fascist military boots of them all."

Elijah kept his eyes on the woods while his comrades relaxed back to celebrate their small moment of survival. "There's no time to waste, lads." Heads turned up. "We still got ground to cover before the sun comes up." There were numerous agreements behind him as they readied themselves to follow. With that he trudged onward.

Leaves crunched under the soles of his boots with every step he took. One step away from what had once been home, and another forward to what would be an unpredictable future. There was nothing for them in the radioactive wasteland. Nothing for them anywhere, but for experimentation as to why some of their generation evolved immune to radiation.

There was hope at the coast, however. He thought it was fleeting. How many times had hope lasted and disappeared as soon as it came? But his big brother urged him to at least make room. He told him that there was a future for them there. Future? It had been perished from their destiny the moment the previous countries had blown themselves up in a nuclear war.

Hope.

It sounded bitter to him.

However, as fugacious a spark it was, perhaps, for his brother at least, he can admit that even a spark could be ignited into roaring flames.

Months passed on and with it the worst season of all: acidic monsoon. They had stopped at a small clearing just outside of an abandoned town with the priority of food on their minds. His stomach growled on point at the thought of something to eat. They had finished their last rations a few days ago, and the boy's were getting grumpily impatient as they continued to travel without food. He knew that he had to go and scavenge again, but he wasn't looking forward to it despite the churning in his stomach.

He paused slightly, feeling the all too familiar presence behind him. "What are you doing?" Elijah asked without even looking up from sharpening the makeshift bayonet on his revolver.

A head peaked out from behind a tree. "Stalking you," Jake deadpanned. He tried to force the incredulous look from his face, tried to keep a straight expression, but he failed. Miserably. "How did you even-"

"Probably a natural instinct I evolved." Elijah ran the wet rock over the blade. "Since I grew up with you." He gave him a pointed look.

Jake grinned. "You make it sound like it's a bad thing."

Elijah rolled his eyes. His brother thought he was being sneaky most of the time, and in the beginning, it had really knocked him off guard. Not so much anymore since it was expected of Jake to try and creep up on an armed guy in such a depressing world like the nuclear wasteland. "What do you want? I'm busy."

"Busy being a boring stiff?"Jake propped himself on the boulder beside him with a worn map on his lap. A red cross marked their designated place"the coast of a country that was once called Mexico. Elijah frowned and looked away as Jake's finger landed on the name of the town that they were currently at. "Don't look away." He nudged him with his shoulder, almost accidentally bumping his wrist against the honed edge of the makeshift bayonet. "We're close. A few more hours, and we'll finally make it. . ."

Elijah gave him a droll stare. "Don't get your hopes too high." There was nothing worse than seeing disappointment in Jake's gaze. He didn't want to have him sprout expectations before they laid their eyes on the coast and what might await them there. "It could be another trap."

Jake bristled at his tone. "You don't have to tell me. I know already. . ." Elijah mentally prepared himself for his next words. Sometimes, he hated to be his brother's voice of reason, but who else would take his place? His eyes shifted to his comrades that had survived the great escape from the Fascoids. They were all giving him knowing looks or gazing innocently the other way. His scowl deepened. Traitors. He pulled back as Jake leaned forward, his soft brown hued gaze glinted with excitement. "But you heard the podcast yourself. This is the real deal!" Elijah sighed and went back to sharpening his blade. He only had five more minutes of rest before he went into the town to scavenge. "You're not looking" Okay good, See right here?"

Elijah gazed patiently at the red cross. "It's the Sanctuary Coast-"

"And it's protected by the People's Army," Jake finished. "Just imagine a place with no Raidies, no Fascoids, and no Mutants-"

He pushed off the boulder, and adjusted the holster of his machete on his hip. He did imagine it, and to him, it sounded too good to be true. But he knew what his brother was so desperate to have. A life for them to live in peace. To stop worrying if they would live the next day or what would happen to one of them if the other brother were to die. It would truly be a sanctuary if for once he didn't have to worry. No more trying to hold an objective stance. No more being cynical. He and Jake, they could live the life they were meant to live. Together. he cleared his throat and turned to give his big brother a hard gaze. "Just don't get your hopes up. That's all I'm asking."

Jake stared at him for a moment before he began to pull the map to a close with a jerk to his movements. "You know why I'm doing this, right?" His voice was hard, angry, and he knew that he had pushed him too hard. "I'm just making up for what you lack."

His eyes snapped up to hold his glare. Lack? No. He held the same desire, and it was probably more intense that Jake's. It burned inside of him, scorching away at his heart and boiling at his throat. He wanted to tell him, felt the burn so much that he wanted to force Jake to see how much his hope had affected him. No. He knew he couldn't. He knew when to hold it in. If he didn't. . . "Whose coming with me to town?" He asked the rest of the group before he moved away from Jake. His brother didn't need to know.

Samuel followed up on his right while the youngest of their group jumped up with a raised hand. Elijah nodded for him to follow. "Keep up Tobi."

"Y-Yeah!" The boy jogged forward with his hand coming up to hold his hat in place. He settled on his left, eyes flickering from him to Jake who was trailing after them with his rifle. Elijah glanced back and halted to a slow for him to catch up. "Two is enough."

Jake's lips twitched up, but his expression held no humor. "You guys are taking the main road to get into town. The one we cleared out yesterday."

"Aye, aye," Samuel drawled out lazily while Tobi snapped to attention with an enthusiastic, "Okay."

"But the access road is closer," Elijah pointed out, not understanding why they should take a more dangerous route instead. The bridge was out in the open with rusted, broken down automobiles scattered across it. Too dangerous to have those blocking their view. Plus, they hadn't cleared past the bridge. Who knew what lay ahead. "And safer."

"Not with me not having a clear eye on you guys." Jake held his gaze, showing the intensity in his eyes. "If there's trouble then get to the bridge. I'll be watching."

Elijah looked to the side in the direction of the access road that lead to the center of the town. "But-"

Jake's lip twitched, and something about his expression made him falter in his words. "Really little bro, can you get my self esteem any lower?" He reached up and pulled Elijah close, rubbing the top of his tousled black hair. "Give me some credit here." He pulled him closer into a headlock, ignoring his protest. "When have I ever missed a shot?"

Elijah grunted, relaxing in his grip before Jake finally pulled away. He brushed his hair away from his eyes as Jake nudged him off towards the bridge. "Never," he answered with the same confidence. Elijah watched Samuel and Tobi shuffling down the hill before he turned back to give him a curious stare.

"And it'll stay like that," he affirmed with that same expression he knew all too well. "Just. . ." He sighed and brushed the back of his neck. "Don't play hero, Eli. If you're in danger then call-"

"Your name." He quickly finished with a nod. His eyes switched back to make sure the other two didn't hear. Frustration built inside of him in a whirlwind of emotions. Jake still treated him like the little ten year old boy he had been"scared and innocent. "I know."

He paused slightly and looked back to see Jake turning to trudge up towards the water tower that had a whole view of the bridge and the street leading into the town. "As long as you do." He lifted his hand and gave a lazy gesture, not turning back to look at him.

His hands tightened around his revolver before he forced his gaze away.

Perhaps he treated him like that because maybe, deep down, he still was that ten year old boy.

Scared of what laid ahead, and too reserved to express the painful flames of hope that swirled inside of him.

He caught up with Samuel and Tobi, leading the way through the haunting bridge filled with broken down cars that looked to have become one with the earth. Despite being on a bridge, nature still managed to wheedle through with dry shrubs and fallen leaves. There was no such thing as green anymore. It had all been utterly destroyed when the first nuclear bomb was struck.

He didn't know the specifics of what happened that resulted in the Great Fallout War. Only the Veterans did, but one couldn't find many of those since 100 years had passed since. However, he could get most of the story through observation. Old billboard signs that painted out these so called 'Russian Commies,' as monsters rather than humans. One of the large vaults they had scavenged through had told him a story of how the lucky ones managed to go under in order to avoid the nuclear war. Those were probably the ones who were the least affected by radiation.  Over 100 years, people evolved with all sorts of mutations, until finally his generation had born with the uncanny resemblance of an unaffected human. What made them so different? Why didn't they have radiation boils or mutated bodies that had a tail slithering out from their lower back? Why did they look so alike to what had once been and yet appear to be so indifferent when put too close to the most dangerously radiated sights?

They showed signs of immunity to radiation.

But not all of them were truly immune to every danger of the wasteland.

"S**t it almost bit me!" Samuel placed his hand over his heart before he kicked at the corpse half hanging out of the car seat. Its back was scaly, like a serpent, yet dry like the Sahara desert. Black blood seeped out of the back of its head where his machete was seated deep within. It had been a close call. Too close.

"You okay?" Elijah looked up to see Tobi's wide eyed gaze on the puss that dripped off of the spore that slowly began to expand across its ear. Those were the Raidies. Deformed looking creatures that were once humans before the radiation fungus nested into its brain to take over its body.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for asking," Samuel deadpanned before he shot Tobi an accusing gaze. "Couldn't have done it without my white in shining armor of course."

"I-I was going to-" the gun in his hand shook, and his gaze flickered nervously around.

Elijah cracked a smirk. "Just stay close Tobi." He placed the sole of his boot against the Raidie's head and heaved his machete out. He then trudged ahead to where the bridge was half way broken while wiping the blood off on his khaki pants. Pieces of rebar stuck up dangerously out of the broken debris of concrete. He gazed down seeing the gaping hole of a 20 feet drop onto a dry surface. He grasped one of the poles and pulled, testing his weight on the sturdy rebar before he pulled himself over onto the superior surface. Samuel followed his example while Tobi nervously waited until the two of them could help him across.

They walked over the dry shrubs and avoided the dangerous cracks upon the concrete before they finally made it to the other side. They made their way cautiously towards the town, eyeing the barred up windows and the shredded red, white and green banner of a lost nation. Then he paused. Eyes widened as they trailed down over the sturdy rope tied around a man's neck. He swayed slightly with the wind, wearing nothing but his dirty black boxers. He would have passed it as nothing and went along if it wasn't for how fresh the body looked. Someone had been here not too long ago.

"Samuel."

His comrade nodded before he looked through the scope of his gun. One gunshot later and the body came falling down right in front of him. He jogged forward, eyeing the radiation boils across his reddened skin and the sun rashes across his neck. He heard the other two coming up to his side as he knelt down to turn over his wrist. Sharp intakes of breath followed soon after as he shot up, eyes never leaving the mark.

"What's a goddamn Fascoid doing here?" Samuel stepped closer, eyes trailing over the line of shops around them.

"I don't know." Elijah pulled Tobi to his side as he moved towards the shadow of a broken down building. "But I do know three things. The body is fresh, Fascoids always travel in four man teams, and someone else killed one of them."

"Crap," Samuel stressed out as he placed his back against the cold surface of bricks. " What do we do?"

He worried the inside of his cheek and ignored the shallow intake of breaths from the youngest boy. He cursed himself for bringing Tobi with him. "The supermarket, We'll just get in and get out and leave. We have to be quiet about this."

"Well," Samuel started with a deep humor to his voice. "Yeah, you're right, we can be quiet about this. I mean-" He gestured pointedly towards the Fascoid corpse. "I didn't just shoot down a f*****g pig for all the world to hear." He snorted.

"Then you guys go back." He pushed off the wall, eyeing the large building at the corner that had a shopping cart next to some foreign words. That could be it.

"Are you crazy?" Samuel hissed. "Jake would skin me." Of course that was what was holding him back. It wasn't that Samuel was a coward, however. There was no such thing as a coward in their group. It was just that Samuel was a survivor, and he understood the odds that were against him at present. He knew when to run and when to fight. He sighed and pulled up his gun in resignation. "God damn you, Eli." It just so happened that despite knowing, he still went against the odds.

He smirked. "I'm not forcing you."

"Yeah right you are." He turned to Tobi with a narrowed gaze. "And you." The boy cringed back, pale blue eyes gazing up innocently at the tallest of them. Samuel tried to hold a straight face but merely growled in frustration. "Don't leave my side, you hear?" Tobi nodded vigorously and stepped up beside him, probably taking his words a bit too literally. Elijah stared at the boy for a second before he looked away. The only reason the boy was really here was because of Samuel. They had shared a cell back at the experimentation camp, and despite Samuel's irritation, the boy would follow him around like a lost puppy. He would've almost compared them to him and Jake if it wasn't for the slight difference in the atmosphere around them. They were more than just brothers in arms.

They made their way towards the metal doors of the supermarket that were lodged shut, however, the glass around was shattered, giving them a good view of the barred up wood that was broken down in some places.

"There was a fight here." He looked down to Tobi who was lifting a bullet scattered in front of the doors. He frowned and nodded to Samuel who was already jumping over the barred up wood.

"Come here Tobi." As Samuel helped the 15 year old boy across, Elijah kept on the lookout. He scanned the streets, searching for any misplaced shadows until he heard something rolling lazily over the asphalt. He whirled around, revolver pointed as he eyed the empty can that swirled out of the shadows of an open doorway of a half collapsed building. There was something there, but what? A Raidie would have been screeching and sprinting out of the building to follow the sound of the noise. A Fascoid would have already had a gun pointed at his face in full view. . . Ready to take him back. He shuffled closer. Was it the wind? No. He knew from experience to never pass it off as a natural phenomenon. It was either intentional or unintentional, and it was always an enemy.

"Eli!" He flinched at the sound of his name and inched back to press against the doors. "Eli come quick!" It was Tobi. Imagining the worst, he quickly pulled himself over the barred wood. He landed harshly on his feet, stumbling slightly in search of any attack.

"Over here!" Samuel appeared out of the darkness between two shelves that were supporting each other from falling before he disappeared again. Elijah rushed forward, crouching slightly to fit between the shelves until he got to the other side. His eyes widened at what came into view.

There, pressed against the wall was a woman. Blood pooled around, coating her ripped up jeans and tan combat boots. Her shirt was gray and stained with red as she clutched onto her side. At her feet laid a corpse, only in his undergarments like the one they had found hanging outside. He had been stabbed in multiple places, and his lifeless eyes stared up at him as if cursing him. As if this was all his fault. Blood seeped out of her mouth as her bewildered eyes gazed at the three of them. "You're-" She tried to sit up further but failed miserably, letting go of the knife gripped on her lap. "Finally." She coughed, reaching for Tobi, but Samuel tugged him back. His vivid emerald gaze giving her a warning stare. He hand fell to the side with a splatter. "We found you. . ." A weak laugh bubbled in her throat. "Finally. . ." She slouched further against the wall. Eyes never closed.

"What the hell did she mean?" Samuel clutched his gun as his eyebrows scrunched together.

He shook his head, nudging the man's wrist to see the Fascoid mark of the Patriotic Party. It was slashed off with a deep red. Someone had done this"purposefully. His eyes widened. "Check her wrist." Tobi made a move to do as he ordered, but Samuel pushed him back instead. He lifted her left wrist and quickly pulled back as if burned.

He cursed. "Holy uranium s**t-"

For a long moment, he just looked. The mark was on her wrist too, and like the other corpse beside her, she had a deep gash through it. The only difference was that her's was a scar. It looked to be years old. Done deep and purposefully with a meaning in its ragged edges, separating the black ink into two halves.

"I don't understand." Tobi's voice was low and shakily disturbed. "Why isn't she wearing a uniform?"

"And why aren't they?" Samuel kicked the corpse's leg.

"We." Elijah cleared his throat. "We need to get out of here. Grab anything useful. Tobi, I thought I saw a shrub of wild nuka berries growing near the entrance." The boys nodded and followed his order as he continued to stare at the body. Could she perhaps be a part of the People's Army? He shook his head to clear out the absurd possibility, but was it really absurd? Sanctuary Coast was a few miles away. So close that he could almost smell the salty spray of radiated ocean. But there were Fascoids here. Two dead and there must be two alive. There was probably more. A whole army ready to take down the People's Army. Why else were they near Sanctuary Coast?

He stepped away from the corpse and made his way towards the shelves, ready to help the other two in gathering supplies. he halted in his steps as the echoing impact of shattering glass on the tiled floor reached his ears. He breath hitched, hearing shuffling behind him. He turned. Samuel? Tobi?

The double door entrance to his left slowly began to rattle.

"What was that?" Samuel called out, making him want to scream for them to shut up.

"Sorry." Tobi's voice bounced off the walls. "Sorry. My fault."

His hands tightened around his revolver. "Shut up," he hissed in a whisper, and even the lowering of his voice seemed to sound louder than any of their own, showing just how much of an exaggeration their voices were. He heard footfalls, scattered shuffling across the floor.

His eyes widened as the doors that lead to the back storage rooms began to pull apart. The handcuffs that linked the metal handles strained and suddenly hands began to slowly lurk out of the darkness within. They were scaly and dry with black claws dripping with puss that slowly seeped out of sponge like pores across the pads of their fingers. Raidies. Their sharp clicking echoed across his eardrums, ominously foreboding as the throaty gasps became hauntingly clearer with every raised screech.

"Run!" He shouted before he pushed between the two shelves, heading straight to the front doors. It all made sense as to why she didn't use her gun. Stab wounds for silence. Why didn't he see it sooner?  As he pushed through the opening of the shelves he could see Samuel already shoving Tobi to the other side. "Go, go!" He pushed Samuel against the wood when the boy tried to help him over and instead turned back to give him cover. From where he stood, he could see the simple chain of hand cuffs straining further as the doors heaved wider and wider until they snapped apart.

There was three, five, ten. . . They all poured out like cockroaches from their nest. Some stumbling some falling, but no less did they falter in pursuit of fresh meat.

"Oh f**k." He turned back and shoved at Samuel's leg to get him out of the way before he pushed against the wood and heaved himself up. The snarls quickened, became closer. He felt two pairs of arms grabbing at him, knocking him off balance as he was jerked forward. Startled with relief, he fell on top of Tobi and Samuel as soon as sharp claws slashed over the wood's surface. He shuffled clumsily to his legs, and pulled his gun up, shooting at the first Raidie that clawed over with extracting fangs. Its head snapped back at the force of the bullet that tore through him, and the Raidie slumped against the piling crowd on the other side. He suddenly felt Tobi tugging at his shoulder, screaming at him to run.

And he did.

Both of them urged each other to go with frantic pulls as they stumbled into a sprint.

His feet jerked forward, one trying to race the other as they ran down the main

street, eyes on the bridge where Jake's protection laid.

He kicked the can as he went, and as the recollection of the strange phenomenon burst inside the forefront of his mind, a silhouette moved from the shadows. Navy blue helmet, red band of a red, white, and blue flag tied around his arm, and the old scar of a slash across the mark on his wrist. He heaved his gun up, uncaring, unquestioning, as pure rage swirled his heart.

"Stop-" The man ducked his head as the bullet shattered the glass of the window display next to him. "F**k!" The man cursed as the wood snapped at the weight of the gathering of Raidies. The man pulled the metal door closer to his body. "Over here! You'll never make it!" There was a chance. To hide out in the building that was armed with barred windows and metal doors. There was a chance, but he didn't take it. He'd rather die then go back. There was no way he'd go through the Trials again. There was no way he'd wait for the inevitable doom of a dose filled with man-eating fungus that hibernated in Raidies to see if he really was immune to all forms of radiation. He'd never go back. He'd never become one of those things.

"Keep running!" He called ahead to Tobi and Samuel. "Take the access road!" They looked back faltering in their steps as Elijah slowed to a jog and aimed his gun to the closest Raidie.

"Eli!" Tobi screamed as the creature came dangerously close. It's shoulders jerked back and forth, like a sort of compulsory muscle twitch as it's head twisted up sharply, nostrils pointed in the air. Except it had no nose. It was in the form of two small slits with layers of spores on top of each other. They fanned out like a blooming flower, except there was no beauty to the rotten yellow like fungi that seemed to sprout puss filled pores over the horned arch atop its head. It's jaws slit open, elongating as it screeched out a scratchy tune. He pulled the trigger and watched as the blood sprayed from behind its head. The Raidie's heads turned at the loud noise and blindly followed in his direction, no longer paying attention to the direction of Tobi and Samuel who were reluctantly inching back to the access road.

He jogged backwards, counting the heads of the Raidie's watching as half of them split up to pound against the closed metal doors of where the Fascoids hid behind. Good. Hopefully, they'd kill them. Less problems in the future. Now he had five of them on his trail. One bite and it's over, he reminded himself as he sprinted down the road, closing the distance between him and the bridge.

A snarl tore right beside him and he shuffled back as a loud crack rang across the air. The Raidie twitched on the floor, jaws snapping until it no longer moved, and he laughed out of nerves because Jake was with him. He was with him. His fingers jolted and he watched in dread as the bullet merely burst a spore on its ear. It crouched low and sprung forward. Elijah grabbed its arm and dug his bayonet right under its jaw. He shot against and flinched back as the blood sprayed into his eyes.

He let out a shout and rubbed away at his eyes furiously, trying to blink out the blood as he forced himself to see.

He rotated the round and cried out as he felt something sharp butt against his stomach. His back slapped against the asphalt as he placed his hand over the forehead. His finger's dug into the spores, bursting the thin membranes as black blood and puss seeped out. Jaws clicked open and shut trying to rip away at his arm. The fangs were sharp, producing constant mucus as thin lines of saliva connected the thin teeth together.

He pointed the nose of his gun against its eye and squeezed desperately, watching as the bullet rip through its head. He knocked the body over and crawled onto his feet, looking over his shoulder to see the last two Raidies charging at him with flailing claws. Another rip through the air and one less to worry about.

He turned, hearing the last footfalls rushing at him from behind, but he continued to run. His eyes locked onto the bridge. There. His muscles ached with tension as his footfalls lengthened their stride. Short gasps left him as he sprinted to the bridge.

Don't look back, Elijah. Don't you dare look back.

He could almost feel the grazing of claws at the arch of his back, the snapping of teeth that clicked rigorously behind him. No sooner was it followed by a snarl, sounding so close to his ear that his head snapped back.

There it was.

They called that lowest form of a human a Raidie for how bad it was affected by the radiation. It had been a human being once before the man-eating fungus got a hold of it. The years it evolved into left it with melting slabs of skin that hung off its crusted flesh, reminding him of the dried coral reefs back at the aquarium they had pillaged through in the last town. It's face was half covered with the spores of green hued juices of mashed of roaches, like the sponge beds within the coral reef, sprouted and spread apart like a rotten, blooming rose. Bloody mucus dripped out of the pores where its eyes had once been. Only the mouth was left untouched. A way for the fungus to spread. One bite and it would be over for him.

"Jake!" His brother's name tore through his throat. Why wasn't he shooting? He always took his sweet time loading. No matter. His range of scope was clearer at the bridge.

Get there. Please get there.

If there's trouble, get to the bridge, I'll be there, he had said.

A shriek tore through the Raidie at the sound of his voice. It's jaws snapped shut and that harsh throaty noise of a choking bird pierced his eardrums. Loud. Ominously loud.

A gunshot rang through and he laughed, looking back only to see the horned arch chipping off its forehead. His eyes widened as it stumbled slightly before it continued its chase. No. He missed. He never missed.

It's arms jerked in movement, slashing and clawing at the air as it twitched in its chase compulsively. Elijah stepped onto the slab of concrete that protruded from the surface. Then he jumped over the exposed rebar. He heard its screech, watched it trip over the debris of the half standing bridge, observed the way it's hand lashed out, claws tearing through the back of his shirt. Pain lanced up his mid back and a cry tore at his vocal cords. It was poisonous and mind numbing, reminding him of the experiments. He hit the ground, head snapping back against the hard surface. He tried to scramble to his feet, tried to crawl away, but he was dizzy, and everything looked like the times when he would stare too long at the sun and had to look away.

The claws continued to tear through his leg. They grasped and laced around like a vice as heaved himself onto his elbows and slowly crawled back. He blinked rapidly, but his vision was tainting, taking too long to refocus. He kicked back sluggishly before he turned.Hands reached for the scattered revolver. Get the gun.

Trembling fingers laced around the trigger. His blood rushed, pumping and beating until he could hear the own sound of his pounding heart within his eardrums. His eyes locked onto the Raidie as that jaw stretched apart. The rebar stuck out of its stomach but it continued to crawl forward as the metal pole ripped and shredded through its skin. It grasped his calf as he shakily tried to reload. Teeth snapped closer and closer. His fingers found the metal trigger.

Click.

His eyes widened at the sound. Nothing felt so devastatingly tragic than the sound of an empty chamber. Something pooled down the empty pit of his stomach, cramping his insides as the white hot flash of boiling pain ripped into his thigh. His mouth opened voicelessly as the claws wrapped around his leg, fangs dug deeper, anchoring him in. Then a shot rang against his ear, as the Raidie's head jolted to the side by the force. He cried out then, feeling his muscles tear. Something hot splattered against his face as he fell back. His chest rose and fell harshly as the pain on his back and around his left leg laced together like adjoining comrades.

His head tilted to the side weightlessly as the thrumming continued. The frantic beat echoed harmoniously within his eardrums. Calm down, he urged, calm down. The pads of his fingers grazed over the sun scorched concrete. It burned at his skin. Everything burned.

He continued to trace the harsh dry ridges until he felt the liquid. It coated his skin, tainting it into a deep red. He blinked sluggishly as the uncomfortable warmth of the liquid coated the side of his face and dampened his hair. He felt it leaving hot trails across his skin like red strokes on a pale canvas. He wanted something cold. He wanted relief. He blinked slowly as something came into view. Combat boots rushed at him, knees falling, cold hands embracing.

He felt them slink under his arms and around his waist, felt them heave him out of that strange liquid, felt them pull him away from the scary creature. No embrace was so comforting that his own brother's. "Jake." Something cold washed through him, evading that white pain and the dying embers of hope with something more anchoring, and soon, he was able to see past the pain. "I knew you'd come." The relief tore through his throat harshly as he met his brother's gaze. It was glossy, like a sheen polish had been painted over those constricted pupils.

The body underneath him trembled. He kept whispering something into his ear, a muffled chant that slowly snapped him out of his reverie: "no, no, no, no." He rocked him back and forth, bringing a new kind of pain that squeezed terribly at his heart. He wanted to tell him to stop, to shut up.

Because nothing was worse than hearing those cruel words.

His eyes focused on the corpse, observing the way its black blood intertwined with his own. "Don't let me become that." He reached up, brushing the pale knuckles that grasped tightly onto his white shirt. "Take it, Jake." The trembling hand that was guided under his slowly wrapped around his revolver. "The rounds, they're in my pocket-"

"I know." He felt him tuck his head against the crook of his neck. Something cold and damp touched the exposed skin there, making him shiver. "I missed." His hold tightened. "How could I miss?"

He tried to fight away the exhaustion that steeped into his bones and the black specks that marked his vision. "You know," he drawled out lazily as the corner of his mouth twitched up. "It could've been worse."

Because it could have.

It could have been him.

And nothing could be worse than that.

Shadows came into view, lurking closer until the uniforms of red, white, and blue blinded his vision. It was the Fascoids, one of them being the guy he had shot at. He stepped forward.  "You." They pointed their guns at Jake, eyes switching from him to his brother. "You're coming with us."

The arms around him squeezed. "No."

His heart pounded furiously. "Leave." He tried to nudge the arms off of him. "Run, Jake."

A shuddered sob pierced his ear. "No." His brother shoved the hands back.

"It's too late for him," the Fascoid began, voice strangely soft.

He felt Jake's body jolting. They were taking him away. "Jake. . ." He reached forward as they dragged him back. The other Fascoid pressed him back against the hood of his car, chaining his hands behind him.

"He's immune! Please! Take him too. Please." The Facoids shared a look.

The one behind Jake shook his head firmly, gun trained on him.

The other pulled back with his eyes trained on him. "Take the boy back to the other Immunes." His hand crooked back, showing the inside of his wrist as he knelt down. A scar over the mark, and it was years old. 

His mouth opened trying to voice his question until Jake fought against his restraints.

"No, I'm staying here." Jake was tugged back by the broader man and heaved over the slab of concrete. He watched the struggle with a hazy gaze, hearing his protests. The screams made him close his eyes, trying to block out his voice, the pain, everything until a cold hand brushed over his face.

"This wouldn't have happened if you'd just listened to me, kid." He cried out as he felt something tighten around the bite mark across his calf. He saw the medic pack, the bandage. He was digging a needle into him.

"Stop. . ."

"Don't worry. I'm a medic." Medic? The Fascoids. . . didn't have medics. Only scientists and soldiers. "You hit your head pretty hard. Probably a concussion." He sighed as he dug his hands under his body heaving him up and leading him towards the car where a dead Raidie was half hanging out of. "Just try to stay awake as long as possible. Don't go to sleep." He laid him back on the stained car seat and then carefully positioned the corpse of the Raidie over his chest. He coughed while trying to shove it off. "I suggest you keep that there. Wouldn't want them smelling you." He slammed the door and peered over the open window.

"Why are you. . ."

"I can't risk it, kid." He looked away suddenly to dig something from his pouch before dropping a canteen over his lap. "Was that your brother? Best friend? I had one of those. . . She was in the same situation as you: bit."

He blinked rapidly, trying to focus his gaze as the fascist medic gazed at him.

"The adrenaline shot I gave you will kick in soon. It'll help you stay awake." He then placed his AK-47 next to his feet. "If you live then follow this road to Sanctuary-"

"What happened to her?" The medic glanced up, giving him a full view of his face. He looked clean, unaffected. His tanned skin was without radiation spores or yellow creases of dry skin. He looked. . . almost immune.

The corner of his lip tilted up, but there was no joy in his expression. "Hopefully, the odds will be in your favor, kid." The medic reached down and squeezed the top of his boot before disappearing from view.

His eyes widened as the sound of footfalls slowly faded away, but instead of the sense of doom, something else awakened inside of him. The dying embers sparked into flames, igniting something he had lost hope in as the pain from the bite mark pulsed within his body.

There was still a chance.

Author's Note

Comments and constructive criticism are welcome : )
I need some feedback on my grammar and description. Especially description. Did I capture your attention, and did I manage to hold it in a vice until the end?
Honesty means a lot to me, and thank you for taking the time to read this story and reviewing.

Reviews

[Jacob Clifford]

Thanks for submitting this to the contest. Not a bad story at all. At times, I feel some of your descriptions feel a bit forced, mostly due to too much information being given all at once. I'll be sure to take a closer look at this one when deciding the winning contestants.