Still Myself, Still Surviving: Part II: The Realization Read online

  “There’s so much about life we don’t know, guys.”

  Lissie snuggles her head to Ashton’s chest. Will pats us all with his silently-thankful hands. We then mutually get closer for a group hug.

  We don’t know how this will end up for us.

  We don’t know how we’ll get out of here.

  We do know we’re capable of doing so much in the desire to live.

  Tonight, however, we’ve seen it happen, almost to one of our own. We’ve seen life can end in a moment, a warning we take for granted being stuck in the grim sounds surrounding us.

  Thank goodness we aren’t in a silent environment, a vacuum of space, like those stars.

  Epilogue

  (Gary)

  Life is interesting.

  The control of destiny is still intact when you can control yourself from feeling powerless against unexpected events. Things can be unfair, but as long as they’re handled with acceptance to the moment, that the ability to entrust wrongs can be written right, then problems’ lack of mercy won’t feel so insufferable.

  This was broken down to me by a friend, a psychic, and they said I’d find the trajectory of fate can change at any time. Thus there is and isn’t a pre-determined future for all of us.

  Tonight, the sky is murky, to the point it looks like a dark room, and everything has changed.

  My “fate”, if I could have predicted it, is nothing more than picturing the possibility where I kill the enemy. Currently, I’ve been placed inside the transport to unwind. Ernie and the others have told me we can’t move out until I regain emotional stability.

  There’s no way it wasn’t directed towards me and my group. C.F.O.G. have made it too far for any of them to return. There’s no need to “handle unfinished business” with just the base.

  ***

  “Listen!” Ernie suddenly shouted over the inside of our transport, which up to now was filled with hoots of gruff humor and laughter—except from me. “Our fencing was blown, so were trench zones 3A and 2B! The base’s been overrun!”

  I heard this just as I rested my head against the back of the seat and closed my eyes. They sprinted back to waking condition and were greeted by his own somber orbs.

  “This was an attack!?” I yell in disbelief.

  My family! What of them!?

  “Don’t know yet, but Command wants to talk to you first,” he answered, while removing his earpiece.

  He didn’t ask to fit it to my own ear. I was temporarily given clearance to have a direct com-link with our current “superiors”.

  “Are you on?” the voice of the suited man asked, aggressive, but not towards me.

  “Yes!”

  If I could’ve imagined how he looked, it sounded as though he gripped hard the communication’s table to prepare him for his reluctant reveal.

  “I don’t know how to tell you, but the attack took out both the water towers. Your group’s quarters were smashed in by one of the tower’s legs, according to the officers running past to get in here.”

  Now I was standing outside, looking over the ridge at Cheyenne.

  It was as if the image of the city before me shattered, leaving only the dark details to stick out clearly. My tone was steeped in self-denial. “There’s no way that’s what they saw! They must’ve just assume—”

  “Trust me when I say they witnessed the tower just before coming inside here!”

  I refused to accept this dry retelling of my family’s fall. Pounding my fist to my other palm, I hyperventilated as I paced back and forth. “No, that’s not how it happened! Can you send someone to check—”

  “They can’t! Didn’t you hear? The mutated got in the main area! Too many of them! We’re pinned here, don’t you get it!”

  My voice cracked from the pressure of recognizable pain. “That’s not…”

  Ernie genuinely requested, not as the lead chief, but as a newly-aligned friend of mine, what I’d been told. I ignored him, as though his fully-involved gaze wasn’t the first one I’ve easily disregarded. “Please…can you just send a few to try and check?”

  At this point, I expected more rejection, so I willingly fell to my knees and begged for a different response.

  Finally, he came back with “We’ll think of a plan to try and see how it looks. But…those officers saw it fall towards them. We heard it crash into the building.”

  I don’t care if the verdict says what I don’t want it to be. It’s still my responsibility for them to not be forgotten about…even their possible…

  “Thank you. Thank you!” I broke down.

  Then the contact went silent.

  It was the worst disconnection I’ve ever taken. I wanted every second flowing onward to be spent waiting for updates, even if the update was to explain there was no new changes. I maneuvered the ear-piece off and onto Ernie’s open hand.

  “Gary…” He tried for several seconds, but I ignored him.

  The two other officers, by then including the two pilots, stood idly by while Ernie and I had an indirect battle between one another. I didn’t want to feel restrained by the uncertain chain of events.

  Frankly, I didn’t care who got caught in the chain’s crossfire.

  “Gary, no!” Ernie urged me with patience, but also with the virtue to subdue my reach for my sword.

  He wasn’t in danger of being hurt. He just couldn’t have envisioned in my fierce rage that I simply wanted to slash and bash the ground.

  It was a quick and precise disarm. One he did while carefully ordering his officers’ guns back down to their sides.

  “Am I the bad one?” I roared, as he bear-hugged me back up from the ground.

  “Not at all, Gary. Trust me, when I say there are protocols in place.”

  It was here that he spurted commands I could only assume were in regards to the delay I’d pushed us to have.

  The world might change because of what we’ll do, but, right now, my whole world’s been taken away. Nothing else matters to me like my family does.

  The transport doors automatically split open. “Gary, why don’t you take all the time you need in there? We’ll scope out, scratch-plan, and bump-plan ourselves.”

  I turned one eye towards him, honest with apology, but hardened from not wanting to be apologetic. “Believe me, when I say I’ll come out different.”

  Ernie had a look to counter what I said. But, his cocked head apparently re-evaluated what was in fact reasonable on his end, letting his ignorance be bliss to only him.

  I’m sure he’s dealt with loss before, but I won’t let anyone try and alter what I feel. More importantly, what I want to feel.

  He held no angst as I firmly snatched my shoulder away, and especially when I asked, before the doors shut, “How silent can it get in here?”

  “It should very silent. We’ll turn on the frequency booster. Get the answers you seek, and channel that to succeeding on this mission.”

  Just as I stood there, staring into nothingness, he peeped my name out again.

  “Your people would want you safe and moving forward.”

  He has no idea of them, of their names, or their wonderful personalities. But he’d assume they wouldn’t fall short of my characteristics.

  “You’re right,” I replied softly.

  ***

  It’s quiet enough. The eagerness this phantom has to talk to anyone must be staggering. I repetitively curl my fists, fully expanding the muscles of my upper forearms as the wrists come inward.

  “Can you hear me? Can you feel my emotions?” I telepathically aggress.

  “… Why are you so mad?” it questions back. Although slight, it’s the most it’s ever sounded concerned about anything.

  “Earlier, you said you couldn’t find out F.’s location? Now, where are they?” I urge without the slightest concern in regards to politeness.

  The seconds mock me, leaving me puffing and perfecting my posture to the imaginary scenarios I envision when I come across all of C.F.O.G.<
br />
  This had to be directed towards me. This was the consequence implemented for our abandonment. What goes around will come around, C. I assure you.

  “… Well!?” I rudely say, now gesturing physically to my mental question.

  In its most poignant gasp, the pity it has towards me is a warning for what’s about to be said.

  “… Feral’s attacked you all. It was him. He sabotaged the place. Now that he’s felt accomplished with his carnage, he let me see around. He fixed the radio tower he temporarily jammed. I saw him looking through his weapon’s scope. He’s taken pleasure in seeing it filled up and in a mess.”

  “All on his own?”

  “… Yes.”

  One man did it? No, he’s not a man, but a monster—more monstrous than an undead could be.

  I expected, now that I have a culprit to bring judgment on, I’d lose the very meaning of calmness.

  Instead, I throw my hands in the air, indicating my hands are tied.

  “I’m sorry, Feral, but you aren’t safe. None of C.F.O.G. are safe.” I declare, talking to my imaginary opponent. My creative mind spins what I’m capable of, visualizing our imminent brawl.

  For the time being, even if not true, the only fire in my pit is going to be the thought of vengeance, for the sake of my fallen group.

  My fallen love.

  I can’t say her name. She may be conscious to this very second. I pray for it to be the case, but I need a new mask, a new motivation to truly complete this mission. She and the others need vengeance.

  I need revenge.

  Without a proper thank you to the phantom, I only persist in this new character I’m rolling as. “Are C. and the others still in Cheyenne?” my cavernous mind inquires.

  “… Yes. They are in a small building at the moment, waiting until dawn.”

  Trey and the others will only get in the way. They will need convincing to see the truth, or they will bear the consequences of living with falsehoods. It’s what happened to us.

  I boldly stick my finger in the air, looking upwards, as if the phantom will see what I’m doing. “As long as I’m nearby to a frequency opener, you’ll keep me posted! No longer will we greet each other! You’ll just tell me where and what you’re aware of, understood?”

  It has an elongated groan from disappointment. “… This sounds new for you, but not new for me. C. told me almost those exact words when he wanted to know how G. has been.”

  The cockpit doors to the front swing open, one pilot indicating they’re simply waiting for me at this point. “Remember, the crooked branch like a ‘U’ is what you’ll look for when returning to our LZ.”

  I no longer hear the phantom, but this reinforces my claim of how we’ll interact from here on out.

  I’m not going to be apologetic about the abrupt disconnection. I’m not going to apologize for anything I do now until the deed is done.

  Recounting the many times this last month is a trip through the memory vault. I had to feel guilty for the things C. didn’t, nor in turn show remorse over his and the followers’ mistakes.

  The world’s not perfect, yet it’s never apologized to any of us for what’s it’s added.

  And taken away.

  Why did C. have us feel wrong when we so dared care about the effects our actions would have? When they looped in our heads over and over again? He thinks he’s figured life out, and we haven’t.

  Now, he’s working for a luxurious and glamorous destiny.

  In that case, I’ll make sure he has a glamorous end, even if I lose myself fully in the process—beyond repair.

  I can’t be half-in and half-out anymore. I’m either functioning healthily or not.

  Less than a week is left before the year anniversary of the apocalypse.

  It’s fitting I have this time left to do what needs to be done, so then my New Year’s resolution can offer me a new leaf.

  About Author

  Marlin Grail writes his thrilling stories for the response of suspense. The confines of his creative mind know no boundaries, just like his actual life. He currently lives in Georgia, but enjoys the idea of being one who travels throughout his life. Most of his time is devoted to physical activity, along with anything else creatively-productive aside from his writing. When relaxing, he finds comfort in reading, watching shows, and spending time with his friends and relatives.

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