Still Myself, Still Surviving: Part II: The Realization

  Still Myself, Still Surviving:

  Part II: The Realization

  By: Marlin Grail

  Copyright © 2016 By Marlin Grail

  All rights reserved. No part of this book shall be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission from author. The author assumes no liability for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Credits:

  (Dry Lands Background) © Patrick_Lienin—Depositphotos.com

  (Standing Man) © STYLEPICS—Depositphotos.com

  (Black Abstract Clouds) © Tihon6—Depositphotos.com

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter I

  Chapter II

  Chapter III

  Chapter IV

  Chapter V

  Chapter VI

  Chapter VII

  Chapter VIII

  Chapter IX

  Chapter X

  Chapter XI

  Chapter XII

  Chapter XIII

  Chapter XIV

  Chapter XV

  Chapter XVI

  Chapter XVII

  Chapter XVIII

  Chapter XIX

  Chapter XX

  Chapter XXI

  Chapter XXII

  Chapter XXIII

  Chapter XXIV

  Chapter XXV

  Chapter XXVI

  Chapter XXVII

  Chapter XXVIII

  Chapter XXIX

  Chapter XXX

  Chapter XXXI

  Chapter XXXII

  Chapter XXXIII

  Chapter XXXIV

  Chapter XXXV

  Chapter XXXVI

  Chapter XXXVII

  Chapter XXXVIII

  Chapter XXXIX

  Chapter XL

  Chapter XLI

  Chapter XLII

  Chapter XLIII

  Chapter XLIV

  Chapter XLV

  Chapter XLVI

  Chapter XLVII

  Chapter XLVIII

  Chapter XLIX

  Chapter L

  Chapter LI

  Chapter LII

  Chapter LIII

  Chapter LIV

  Chapter LV

  Chapter LVI

  Chapter LVII

  Chapter LVIII

  Epilogue

  About Author

  “I try not to remind myself of the good things I’ve done in my past, for it means everything else before this time has to be remembered as well, including the bad things I’ve done.”

  -Gary Nillon

  “I knew something was being hidden from us, something that would critically alter who we were dealing with, and it’s made the sacrifices we’ve made be for nothing because of it.”

  -Ashton Demall

  “I’ve begun to start shivering in warm weather. It’s happening as if I have a sixth sense with something about my body that could screw us over.”

  -Lissie Boray

  “It’s a stretch, but an inconsequential one, so, if’s there’s no connection, it doesn’t change anything. If it does, we change everything.”

  -Will Lorcilis

  “I guess it doesn’t matter what age someone’s at for them to still feel the turmoil from something that happened so long ago.”

  -Janice Edna

  Prologue

  A psychic once told me “Gary, you’re always in control of your destiny.”

  She told me this when I was given a reading, one requested by me when I felt things were slipping out of my grip. My band had divided, Ashton was in the dark on where he was going, and why he’d have bloodshot eyes the day afterwards.

  I went beyond normalcy in the search for advice. Embracing what I never knew before, or wanted to believe, made the mystery of life feel much more within my grasp. Along with advice, she gave me a warning.

  “It’s fuzzy, Gary, but I sense there will be relentless challenges in your near future if you keep trying to fix everything.”

  How wrong I was to assume those challenges already came when the world converted, and when me and my group converted to C. by the nearing of this first year.

  They’d just begun.

  Life is interesting…but so is he.

  ***

  “Is C. really sure that this would be the place?” Josh, leader of Pack Five, asked us all.

  “C. said this place was the person’s ‘hideout’ when on a ‘tantrum’. I’m going to entrust him on this occasion. He’s shown me he speaks with validity to his claims,” I replied, watching Josh’s eyes look at every infinite space possible behind him. “Don’t worry, Josh. We’re just waiting for confirmation by the drone flyer. Then we go and succeed in our mission.”

  “What was your reason for taking this on, Gary? Was it for rations? For weapons?”

  “My supervisor told me I had to do it, since I apparently have yet to pay him back for the time he took to bury some people. I was to be the only person out of my group to do this.”

  Josh simply nodded, his head moving with a jolt, and then he stated, “It was rations for us. My group hasn’t been called on any scavenges in several weeks. I was promised we’d be put higher up on the list of groups to be assigned more things. Nothing will come out of this, other than just better chances. That’s enough for me to do what’s best for my people.”

  I didn’t know there was a system that could raise or lower a group’s likelihood of being chosen to do assignments. I feel like there’s something new to learn about this infrastructure every day.

  “Were you the only one of your group called to come?”

  I wondered if my assumptions about our supervisor’s demand for me alone was routine for everyone here, or was it a personal decision on his end specifically intended for me.

  Just as soon as his mouth opened up, the conversation between the both of us ceased. The others of our dispatch, four more people, not including the drone flyer, huddled to our small circle.

  “The drone has confirmation,” one of these workers said before asking me, “You ready, New-Paint?”

  I recall him being one of the guards at the supervisor’s roadblock on my group’s first assignment. It’s a good thing—for him—that he wasn’t directly responsible for the killings of those boys. I think it’s best too that he calls me by anything other than my real name. I’m not keen on giving mine, or learning his, or most, of these people’s names.

  The drone flyer, who positioned herself at the edge of this hill, began shouting for our attention. “Contact has spotted the drone!” She then scoffed, “The idiot’s running back into the building! As if we don’t know that the only building in this radius is where he’s at!”

  Moving towards our area, undead could be heard from below the steep hill. They selfishly pushed one another around—their numbered combination only being a nuisance for every single one of them.

  The man who’d asked me his question began to put together a plan, though apparently having difficulty being confident with his ideas. “W-we need to get to the cars. W-we’ll drive down there and all enter.” He rose from his squatted position, and looked at all of us for acknowledgement.

  I then raised the need to modify what he laid out because I thought the current plan would get us into more difficulties that none of us would like to deal with. “New-Paint here thinks there can be adjustments for the better.
Josh and I will go and bypass the undead, entering on our own. Let’s keep the drone flying around the building for a bit longer, since it indicates to me that’s what got him hiding in the first place.

  “The undead will need distracting. So as we hurry to the entrance, one vehicle will drive around to keep them focused, while the second will drop us off there. You, the one that will be driving the truck, return it back up here to get them, and return to front of the building once you see us leaving it.”

  The man gave a smile of disbelief. “I’ve been in this establishment longer than you. That idea splits us up much more than necessary.”

  I then got up off of the ground, looking to Josh. I then asked him the question, “Do you want to complete this mission with the least damage done to us?”

  Josh nodded, and proceeded to look down at the steep hill. I watched as some undead tried their hardest to clumsily crawl up towards us. The skeptical man then said, “They’ll eventually find the other ways to get up here. She could be in danger.”

  He sounded as though he was waiting for me to praise him for the fact he has more experience being on missions than I do. I can comfortably say from here on out that Will trained me to deal with doubt shoved in front of my face.

  I looked back at him. “There’s seven of us. Two guard her, while one drives both vehicles. Don’t forget, those things down there are what’s really keeping the world on pause. We can’t let us as a team get put on hold waiting for you. Go start your truck.”

  The man made a slightly scrunched-up face, gently touching the trigger of his gun. Another of the dispatch, who remained silent all of this time, came in with “I like it better this way.”

  With that statement, they hustled down the slope of the hill distant from the herd. Finally, all this arguing ended once both of them enacted what I said. The “Nickname Identifier” took his truck, slowly reversed it behind the herd, and then backed up the bed to the side of the hill Josh and I were looking down.

  I stored my guns by my pant sides, and began controlling my descent on the hill. Its sandy particles skidded along my shoes, glistening from the dust thrown up in the air by my friction on the surface. I landed into the grooves of the truck’s bed with a vibrating pounce.

  “Josh, you’re next!” I called up to him, watching as he seemed to second-guess the slide downward.

  I didn’t blame him. Had I lost my balance, I might have ended right beside an undead’s leg.

  Josh then reaffirmed his commitment as he began the slow and steady descent down. I looked at the building, estimating it to be only several hundred feet away, and while I knew I could get up and charge it, I didn’t know if this man was armed with any long-distance weapons.

  After all, C. did say this was the person’s main hideout. He might’ve added some defense fortifications to keep things like aggressors, undead, or even us, out.

  The second car moved down the hill without accident, accelerating quickly, then braking to a stop. It then began driving towards the herd, catching some of their attention. As I stabbed away at the ones that had walked towards the bed’s shoulder, I felt the hard weight of Josh finally reach his spot as he bumped into the side of my body closest to him.

  This finally granted “Nickname Identifier”, and the three remaining up top, to begin shooting at random heads in the herd. The truck had a spurt of acceleration, which made me and Josh lose our stability somewhat, forcing us to sit as we now rode forward right across the single road and up to the front of the building.

  The truck then slowed in speed, but continued to roll forward. I hopped out, and Josh did the same on the opposite end. We both hurried to the brick structure. We found several openings with broken glass, but their framed panels prevented us from entering in through the openings.

  “Only a school building would make it so challenging to find a way in,” Josh muttered, moving his head from left to right to examine whatever danger might have been near us.

  “Fewer entrances are good for us, for that means they’re not easily able to access the building,” I pointed out, still being positive with my serious tone. “One of the sides should have a way in.”

  We both carefully made our way through the perimeter’s soil, watching the vehicles make noises, as well as hearing firing from several barrels. The undead yelled their loudest when impacted by the bullets. Once making it to a wall perpendicular from the front, we found a way inside.

  In an instant, I switched on my flashlight faster than I ever had before. Josh did the same, but awkwardly held it, along with his shotgun that was cradled upright to his chest. “Watch out for traps,” I whispered as I took careful consideration of what was both above and below us.

  Cracked textiles of floor paneling slid beneath our feet. Every now and then, I thought I’d see something out of the corner of my eye. As the noises outside remained constant in their volume, I found it eerie that it was getting quieter and quieter within these walls. Especially when we entered what we presumed to be a lunchroom.

  At first, it seemed like a strong hiding space for someone, but examining the area made me immediately think it was unlikely our target was in there. Monochromatic coloring, along with reflective shine of metal and aluminum, bounced back to us from our flashlights. The space was very faithful to that shade and appearance, and no obstructing sight showed. The space where tables would be unfolded and set up wasn’t taken up by anything solid.

  I seemed to forget checking above us, which made the following snarls one of the most surprising noises I’d heard in a while. It launched me, along with Josh, back a few feet—like a cat jumping from being startled.

  Upon further evaluation, we found it to be a lonely undead, hanging by a rope tied to their legs, based off what appeared to be a rudimentary setup.

  A trap.

  It dangled, with its stained and dried-looking eyes glaring down directly at the both of us. “Be on the lookout.” I announced, studying the room one more time. “If it didn’t see us immediately as soon as we got in, then more subdued undead could be lurking in here.”

  As soon as I finished speaking, Josh seemed to have caught the first instinctive notion to look behind us. “Hey!” Swinging both our flashlights around we were able to catch sight of a shadow—not of an undead—of a person. “Gary, we need to catch him!”

  I agreed, and we chased him down the hallway he’d already disappeared from. Hitting a “T” shaped intersection, we were unable to see whether he went left or right. “We’ll go down both. Josh, you go right!”

  We split up, with me having to swerve at the last second around the debris of old desks and other school-related objects. Silence made up the atmosphere once more. Rather odd, considering those walls shouldn’t have been thick enough to mute the commotion I knew was happening outside.

  Suddenly, I began to feel lightheaded, as if I got up too fast from sitting down.

  It’s pretty warm this night. It’s possible I’m just dehydrated.

  I then lost that thread of rational thinking when I heard something that, once again, made me tense up my nerves.

  “He’s going up, up, up.”

  I pointed my pistol and flashlight all around the possible corridors and rooms where this voice could’ve come from. But I recognized that it sounded more like it was right beside my ears, possibly even inside my head.

  It definitely wasn’t Josh’s voice. Whose could it have been though?

  Suddenly, I heard his actual voice fill the silent section of the building.

  “I’ve found him! Get up here!”

  In an instant, I strode through the next hallway, fortunate to see a flight of stairs right by the corner. I skipped every other step upwards when I then saw a frantic figure rushing down the opposite end of this stretch of flooring I’d just landed on. I saw Josh get up from the other stairway, further ahead from where I came from. He pursued our target up to a solitary room.

  As I followed, I could see the headlights of two cars out the fr
amed windows to the left of me. They circled while working to get the undead away from the hilltop where the three of our dispatch were positioned.

  Just a little longer, but the actual challenge is coming up next.

  Josh was already midway through climbing up a set of stairs that led us to the rooftop. As I followed, I already overheard him and the one we’d been pursuing having a chat.

  “You’re coming back with us!” Josh yelled out to this man that was practically on the other end of the building.

  The man, blond and shirtless, responded with such choppiness in his throat, as if on the verge of tears, “You don’t even know why you’re here! You’re just blindly following along!”

  Josh walked closer, raising his shotgun up at him without warning. “Look, I don’t know why C. has had us go through all of this trouble to get to you, but I’m getting my reward. We all are.”

  I cautioned Josh in a low undertone, “We need him cooperative. We need to convince him.”

  The man then exhaled, pulling out a concealed pistol. “I know you’re not taking me back unharmed. I know you won’t, because C. told you both I need to be ‘convinced’ to continue my work.”

  Work? What work?

  I then brought up my hands, telling him with absolute compassion and focused attention, “We can make this work. You’re in control of this, but you have to let us take you back. You should know how important it is we accomplish this objective of ours. We have families and loved ones who need to be nourished and provided for. You will be doing a great thing for many.”

  Not a mumble came from any of the three of us, as if we were all waiting for opposing sides to start speaking. Josh grew the most agitated. Me and this man could see Josh’s hands and shoulder press firmer against the stock of his shotgun. The man’s eyes promised one thing…

  Sorrow.

  He shot Josh straight in the chest. Josh fired back. The shotgun spread made the man leap far away from it, diving onto the roof of another section to this building, one being closer to the ground.

  “Josh!” I shouted.