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The Integration (Part I): Still Myself, Still Surviving Page 2
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I admit what I know will sound peculiar, but nonetheless is it my reason for doing what he is asking about. “I need to provide a sense of hope, and that includes handing over opportunity. You heard Will. If we cannot find shelter, then there is a chance he will disband from the group. I won't deny him that choice to do such, like Harold would've with us when under his rule. I know both of us don't mind going deeper and deeper to find only more woodlands, but they might mind it. What I'm getting at is that Will, Janice, and Lissie could have a chance to back out of this group.”
Ashton is quiet for a few seconds, but he puts his palm on my shoulder after this awkward silence. “If you want to leave… we can, but at least let me say goodbye to Janice and Lissie. I'm okay if it becomes like when it was just the 2 of us.” He says, somber in his tone.
We've made friends with them, Ashton. I said what I did, because as their friends, I don't want them to feel obligated to stay under my leadership—if it will cause them trouble.
I jump my response in, almost immediately after what he said to correct his thoughts.
“We're not going out here to abandon them, Ashton, but I won't hold them hostage if they want to abandon this group on their own. For the time being, they shall decide that scenario for us.”
Ashton elevates his palm off my shoulder, and he nods in understanding, even though it appears he is still confused in his mind. Before we mutually begin moving again, “You'll prove Will wrong.”, I hear from Ashton, sounding as though it was spoken more for himself than for me.
Chapter II
(Janice)
“The stream is not much farther.” I tell Lissie.
She's always been quiet, but a lot of times I can see what is going on in her mind.
“Is this water drinkable? We won't all convulse to an agonizing death?” she says.
I laugh, but not to be mean. “Dear, even with everything around us now doesn't mean nature will let all of its natural resources mutate. No, but when we get back, we'll boil it to make sure it's free from natural bacteria.”
We walk West, away from where the site is at. The beauty in the wilderness here, in Wyoming, is there are many open lands mixed with the heavily-forested areas. When I'm around these parts, I don't feel the land is vast in the unknown, but just unexplored.
Maybe that is why I'm not losing my mind right now, with where all of us are at physically. But, I can tell Lissie doesn't see it with my perspective. That's okay.
The stream lays in one of these open parts, and I guide her to take a bottle and get the parts with the clearest look to the naked eye. “Now that you're helping me, how 'bout I help you?” I say.
“I don't think you have to pry information out of me to know what I'm feeling.” Lissie says with a gloomy exhale afterward.
“I get it. You're unsure where this situation points us, and feeling lost at any time is not what you shoot for.” I tell her with utmost sympathy.
“You're right. I feel lost, but it was before the attack on us.” She replies, purposefully being mysterious. “I was getting prepared to go out on my own, Janice. Now, we're all out on our own.”.
“We're not all for our own skin, Lissie, and the group is still a group, especially now that Gary has taken the position as leader.”
She looks up at me, unknowingly dripping out some of the water she was letting flow into the bottle, before she speaks, “I think Gary is a nice fighter, a good-looking one at that, but is he able to handle desperate times like this? Even Harold, the confrontational, imposing, ass he was stayed not even half a day, before doing us like he did and bailing out, so am I supposed to feel good about Gary if can only last us an hour more?”
I can tell for some time, ever since we found her traveling independently, the only real reason she gave our group a chance was because Gary persuaded her. She kept her distance as best as she could around him, and always leaving behind snarly comments to him—which he never fought.
I state my viewpoint about him, certain it is authentic and true to his character, “Gary will put our needs before his own, which I can't say is necessarily healthy for a person, but certainly is it appreciated in a leader, so you shouldn't worry, Lissie. He won't abandon us... or you.”
Lissie gives a smile, but with melancholy written all over it, as she curls her hair back behind her ears as to not blind her sight, and looks upward a little across the stream. She now seems to see something curious. “Does that look like naturally put together soil to you?” she asks me.
“Those 2 easily spotted spots that look like tiny burial holes? No.”
Interested myself, I reach down to pull and roll up my brown cargo pants up to my knees, and I walk through the stream to see what exactly those man-made holes look like up close. Lissie, still crouched down looking at the spot, watches as I get across. We both notice whatever is under the ground has been buried under the stream's sandy region, where the stream occasionally floods with its small density of water from when there's an increase of rain, but not much rain has come recently.
The continuous overcast days teases us that water will come, and I believe it's due to whatever is wrong on the grand scale.
“What could they be? Bodies?” Lissie asks, now in a louder voice.
“If they were bodies, they wouldn't be for humans.”
Now, immensely curious as to what they are, I take the machete I carry with me and carefully plummet the blade within the soil, hoping to feel from impact what could be underneath. I can feel several, several, inches worth of sandy grains. Going deep enough, it finally is halted by an object. I push with some force, and raise my arm back up to see if, at all, it was a body of some kind, and would blood be visible on my blade. There isn't any sign of wound that I made to a possible carcass, so, for that, I double-check to make sure. The blade reaches back to the same opening I forced, but, this time, some of my middle finger touches the surface of this object, which feels like… oil cloth.
This is a fabric material I've felt before—on a travel bag I had a while back.
I then quickly take my machete out from my digging hand, and reemerge back into the ground to feel more of it. Sure enough, I can feel what seems to be 2 handles, bent downward, touching the surface on the top of this… bag.
“What do you feel?” Lissie questions, since she notices change to my once curious breathing, to my now pleased exhale.
“They're bags, Lissie!” I say with relief in my throat.
Considering we had to escape our RV in a hurry, we couldn't grab much to take along, so, excited to know our shortage of supplies could be at an end, I begin pulling up the buried bags by spreading the sand apart with both of my hands—like a dog happily moving dirt out of its place to dig up a bone.
Lissie, wanting to know what I see, gets up from her duty of filling the bottles to assist me. We dig them up, allowing the sand particles to crawl their way up our finger nails, uncaring, for we are just interested to see if what we find can be useful to us.
Sure enough, the first bag we find is a brown outdoor travel bag, assorted with various pockets, with covers that clip over their spaces to ensure no spilling of supplies. I open one of the side pockets of the bag, which brings a non-controlled gasp of laughter to my mouth. There are portions of food and bandages in it, and just like this pocket, the others have their own items of consumption and medical aid.
“Who the hell would just bury supplies like this in a stream? I mean, what plan comes from this?” Lissie asks.
I drop my smile to then ask myself the same questions.
This is like being a child, and taking food off a table. Who's going to be waiting to catch you in the moment, only this time, what punishment would it be?
“We probably just need to grab them and go back.” I say, letting my imagination start to flood my mind.
We direct our eyes to begin digging up the second hole, and both of us begin behaving more frantic than excited when picking up the bags off of the ground. “They're easy to
carry, fortunately, so let's get a move on.” I say, while inhaling largely as to control my worries.
As soon as we get situated with our new supplies, we begin striding our way back. This time, crossing the stream, neither of us roll up our pants. We follow the path I recognize going back, and the whole time, Lissie turns her head repeatedly to look behind us.
“Hey, if this was a trap, they would've noticed me beforehand, when I was on my own, so we'll be fine.” I assure, and not only for Lissie, but also for myself.
I can see Will and the fire we set up, which we would've gone back to with the impression of boiling our water grabbed from the stream, but we come back with a different change of heart.
It's only Will. Where are Gary and Ashton?
“Hey girls. Those 2 went to find us someplace to go. I don't believe they'll find much. Let's just stay put from now on.”
I'm pleased with what I hear, for it is good timing that they went ahead. “Will, we found bags of supplies, but we should probably get going.” I urge, trying to not let fantasy get the best of my self-control.
He continues speaking, as though he didn't hear us.
“Still no word from Gary, and sunlight's running dry.”
“Then radio him, and ask for an update, and, while you're at it, let him know we're following now!” I say back.
Seemingly unaffected by our concerns or roundup of fresh supplies, he goes ahead and radios Gary. “Hey, have you found us a place yet? If not, then still be okay with us coming along now, because the girls say we might have trouble approaching.”
Gary's voice comes back. “Ashton and I haven't found a place, but Ashton believes he has found something worth seeing, so listen to my directions, and we will meet up.”
I then instruct Will to go and assist Lissie by helping her carry the bag she's shouldering.
“I don't need help!” she sharply tells him.
“Fine by me girl, since it's your burden you've put both of yourselves into.” Will speaks back, as he puts both of his arms adjacent to his head like he was held up by gun point.
I then tell him to watch behind us as we move out.
“What will we be looking for, exactly?” Will asks Gary in a skeptical voice.
“There will be ‘X's’ slashed on the trees, on both the left and right sides of the path we took, so keep going forward and you will see them.”
I take a water bottle filled from the stream and put out the fire we had going. We all begin moving along, as though we were never in the area. We head East from where the stream was, which leads us into what seems to be more forest than anything. The path is comforting for 2 aside one another, but becomes cramp and tricky with 3, so Will remains behind Lissie and me. “I see an ‘X’ on this one.” Lissie says to the right of me.
Each time we can see a crudely formed ‘X’, the deeper and narrower the path seems. My bag I'm carrying seems to get caught on a tree limb, almost every time I re-situate it over my shoulder. “Umph! Shit!” Lissie spouts out.
I look to see that one of her legs has been caught under an elevated tree root above the uneven ground we are walking on. Lissie collapses, but looks to catch herself with her hands. “Lissie!” I shout.
Without looking in any direction other than where she is at, I go to assist her back off the ground, and, while doing so, I hear Will yell, “Watch it!”
I turn behind to see him reaching for his knife, looking over to my left, which then I do as well. I see a teeth-chomping undead, idiotically falling onto me. Fortunately, I'm quick enough to hold their body away from mine. Their saliva drips onto my face, as it hungers to get more than a nip of my flesh. I can feel Lissie struggling to turn her body, because the combined weight of this undead and my own on her hip pin her down.
“Do it already, Will!” I yell.
I expect him to insert his knife into the side of this undead's head, but he yells back to me, “I can't! This one is haze-incubating! Look at the eyes!”
Though this undead and I are wrestling, which feels like it knows every pressure point of my arms, I finally get a glimpse of its greenish-milky eyes.
This indicates any tear in their skin would let a haze out, no matter if the haze is birthed earlier than wanted to.
I feel the weight and movement of its desperate squirming getting to me, but I balance my energy with resisting it and yelling at Will to help me. “Kick it off!” I demand of him.
He takes a step back to arch his right leg into position, and times his grunt with the impact of his foot on the undead, as it then rolls off of me and Lissie. Now, like a turtle on its back, it's unable to do anything but make putrid growls. I turn 180° off my back to get up, and I assist Lissie off the ground. She stares down at the face of this undead.
The way it looks, it appears as though it is recollecting its mind, learning to turn and reach for her.
Its slow arms look to have her in its grasp, but fails as she and I get up, regaining our stances. They've become harmless, now that it gives in to where it's at—currently laid out, continuing to stare directly at us. We immediately hop over its body, and notice it watches us the whole time, resenting its inability to grab our legs. “Thanks, Will. If you didn't see the eyes when you did… it could have gone worse.” I say, with a rejuvenated, more positive tone towards him.
He just offers a hand to my arm, saying, “Though you didn't look to see it coming, you did great not causing us any further trouble.”
I look at him with a bit of confusion, not knowing whether to take that as a compliment, or a critique, or a combination of the 2. I then turn my full attention to Lissie. “Are you okay, or hurt?” I ask with complete interest.
“I'm so sorry. If I wasn't being clumsy, then your life wouldn't have been risked the way it was.” She says, visibly growing frustrated with herself.
Also confused by the apology, I object to the blame she wants to place within herself. “Don't feel sorry, Lissie. None of this was your fault, and more than anything, it was mine for not seeing that sneaky thing come up on me.”
Will intervenes with our brief talk, concluding we get away from it. His radio starts up, “Guys, are you still on the move?” Gary asks.
“We have no choice but to, right?” Will says, pessimistic in his tone.
I have only heard Will sound either bleak or sarcastic. If he became leader, I'm sure his attitude would drain us emotionally.
“This is all worth it.” I say twice to Will and Lissie.
Just like that, we give each other resurfacing looks, back to our priority at hand, and continue down the hardening path, with the sun generating shadows of the environment less and less.
Chapter III
(Gary)
“Ashton, sun's going down faster now. Make sure that your flashlight is handled with your left hand, crossed under your right, and aim it downward as to make it a sign of our group's passive look, in case they can't see our defined features right away.” I tell him, becoming more hypersensitive to everything that could go wrong.
We hurry our way back down the path we came from—in order to make our group whole again. The sun is not visible anymore, and this is the main part of time where I feel the season we are in betrays us, with the sun coming down so early.
Jogging back, I notice we seem to be on an inclined patch of forest, which makes the impact on the soles of my feet jolt less comfort than when going up. I raise my radio to my mouth. “It's been about 15 minutes since I last heard from you, Will, so we must be close to each other.”
His southern accent comes back, “Surely this was some distance you made, but how much better have you made it for us?”
The group had a total of 4 radio walkie-talkies, with Harold taking 1 before he ventured back to the RV.
I wonder, has Harold been hearing all of this conversation going on?
Now it's down to 3, with Will and me utilizing 2 at the moment. Ashton has one, but considering I see the contours on his face, from the shadowing of my f
lashlight, it shows he has an agitated expression all too well.
I can tell he'd sure share his thoughts about Will's unkind voice, but his response would be unkind, and inefficient with the usage of his radio.
“Like I said, we have something that doesn't guarantee anything, but it is intriguing enough to check out, together.”
“Well, that's something, at least.” Will says back, lighter in his assuming tone.
A few more minutes pass, and sunlight is entirely gone, with only a faint blue remaining in the sky.
“Hey, Gary?” I hear come from Ashton's mouth.
“Yes?”
“Do you recall that one scavenging mission you and I took, about a month ago? When we didn't get back until after dark?”
I already know what he is going to bring up.
We were at an old neighborhood, which was completely void of life besides the undead. We could finally confirm, after the many months beforehand of wondering, that when the sky goes black the dead seem to boost in vision and speed.
Even when we entered a house and we were in those rooms, where the undead didn't see us originally, it was as though they could suddenly view us through walls and structures of any kind. We had to shoot through the glass doors at the back of the last house we were in to succeed in our escape from the overrunning horde—that collectively grouped into one, then began all entering from the neighborhood road.
I don't know if distant undead could single in on our location now, but if they do, hopefully they will get caught by the scattered number of trees both thick and thin.
“We'll be okay, Ashton, but we'll make sure to watch our sides more from here on out.”
“Hey!” Will yells, with all 3 of them closing the distance between us.
“It's good to see you, but keep your voice down, Will!” Ashton aggressively says with his teeth clenched. “We told you already that after dark, undead seem to get a heighten sense of their speed and surroundings.”
“Ashton is right, Will, but we will be fine. These trees should obstruct their movement.” I say, defusing the rising tension between Ashton and him.