Red Rain (Krystal)

[Braden Parker]

It was dark today, darker than usual. The sky was always a bit murky, as it was covered in thick layers of ash from all the bombs that had been set off throughout the last few years, but today there were more than just ash and smoke filling the dark abyss. Storm clouds hung in the sky, slowly rolling in from the horizon. With them came the rain. It had been pouring for hours now, a rare occurrence, and the ground was soaked and muddy. Not a soul could be seen outside. You would think that the survivors might have been gathering in the streets, rejoicing at the sight of rain. But no, the water that fell from the sky was toxic and full of ash. Drinking it would make you sick. It was practically useless. All it did was make the ground soggy and hard to walk on.

Amidst the dark scenery there was a flash of fiery hair in one of the alleyways, and a man dressed in a military uniform staggered down the muddy street. His dog tags jingled as he walked, making a quiet metallic noise. His breathing was fast, his breaths came in shallow gasps. Please. Please say he hadn’t been bitten. With shaking hands, he rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, terrified he would see bite marks. He stared at the pale skin of his arm, but in the dim lighting it was hard to tell. Through the oozing blood, it was impossible to be certain. He felt sick, and he couldn’t tell if it was because the disease had started to take hold of him or because he had lost too much blood. He needed to sit down. But…it wasn’t safe out here…he had to keep going. The man took a few more steps, but then his legs gave out, knees buckling, and he collapsed onto the muddy ground. He just lay there for a few moments, completely motionless. Anyone who walked by would mistake him for a corpse.

He rested his head against the cold ground, enjoying the feeling of the cool earth against his warm skin. It was a little muddy, but that wasn’t anything he couldn’t deal with. Getting dirty hardly mattered. He just had to stay awake… He couldn’t lose consciousness. He was afraid if he did that if he closed his eyes he might never be able to open them again. This thought terrified him, and the fear sent another burst of adrenaline pumping through his veins. Packing, he tried to struggle to his feet. He was too weak though, too much blood had been lost, and he only fell back down again. He cried out, feeling a sharp pain in his shoulder, and he was reminded of his injuries.

As he lied there, struggling for breath, his blood mixed with the mud. He wasn’t sure how many places he was bleeding from. He hurt all over. He had been caught in the middle of a fight between some reckless teenagers and a horde of walking corpses. He had seen the kids from his sanctuary way up in one of the buildings and rushed down to help. The second he had gotten involved though, one of the damn boys had fired their gun at him thinking he was a zombie too. The idiot had shot at him at least five times before realizing he was on their side. Fortunately, not all the bullets had hit their target. If they had, the man would probably already be dead now. He’d been shot in his arm. Or, he thought he had anyway. Either that or one of the zombies had bitten him there. And there was another bullet lodged in the side of his leg. That one hurt like a bitch.

And then, you’d never guess how they repaid him for trying to help. They ran. They ran and left him to deal with the zombies. Ungrateful bastards. Luckily, being a former soldier, he’d had a good gun on him, and it hadn’t taken him long to blow all the undead’s heads off. It had been close though, and some of the rotting corpses had gotten their hands on him. Now all he could do was pray, pray with everything he had that he hadn’t been bitten.

[brighteye]

[/b] She called cautiously towards the man as she came even closer. She could tell that he was badly wounded - she moved forward to see if she was able to save him, her mind already going to its 'professional' state - where nothing mattered except the life of the one she was trying to help. And, from the looks of it, he would need all the help she could give him. Gently, she touched the males shoulder. "Are you awake? Can you move?" If he was conscious, she might be able to get him to help her move him around so she could see his wounds - they seemed to mainly be on his front, and she wouldn't be able to turn him without some difficulty, especially since the ground was a wet mess. However, she had forgotten all about the disgusting state of the ground as she knelt by the guy, waiting for his response.[/ul]

[Braden Parker]

This was the end, wasn’t it? He was just going to bleed to death in the middle of the street, and then his corpse would be eaten, mauled over, by the animated corpses. What a depressing way to go. It had never been the way he had imagined. He had always wanted to die a heroic death, a death of honor, of sacrifice. He supposed this counted as sacrifice in some way, as he had risked his life to save those kids. Somehow he had imagined it differently though, more glorious. He let his eyes close, a weary sigh parting from his lips. He didn’t want to die… not like this, not yet… He couldn’t… He wouldn’t… As he thought this, he felt his world starting to go gray. He wasn’t sure how long he had been lying there. If it had been seconds, minutes, hours…

Suddenly, a sound broke through his half conscious state, echoing through his mind: "Hello? Are you alright?"

A voice. Soft and feminine. It broke through his half conscious state, echoing through his mind. The words seemed slow and blurred, and he couldn’t understand what they meant. He tried to move, tried to look up to see who it was, but his muscles would not obey him, and he lay frozen in place, body still and motionless except for the shallow rise and fall of his chest. He was unsure if he had even heard a voice now. Maybe it had just been his imagination. Or maybe it was an angel come to take his soul and… No, that wasn’t what it was. No angel would come for him. He was a bad person. He was going to rot in hell for his sins, for all the lives he had taken. No soldier would go to Heaven. They didn’t belong there. People seemed to think the soldiers were heroes, amazing human beings, but the man, Braden, he knew better. Soldiers were no heroes. What they were was murderers. All they did was kill, and how could taking a life be heroic? It wasn’t. What it was –

"Are you awake? Can you move?"

The voice again. This time accompanied by a gentle touch to his shoulder. Reflexively his muscles tightened, his body tensed. This time he knew for sure he had heard it. It belonged to a girl. His first thought was that it was a scavenger, someone who had seen his body lying on the side of the road and had come to strip him of his valuables, like his gun. If the blood loss from the gunshots didn’t kill him, the theft of his gun sure would. Anyone who was stupid enough to try to walk the streets without a weapon would be dead within a few hours. At this thought, Braden’s eyes flew open. He moved his head ever so slightly, tilting it to the side and raising his face out of the mud a little. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a female. His eyes swept over. She was dressed in white and red, or he thought she was anyway. His vision was swimming and it was hard to make out the details. In her hands was…a penguin? Perhaps she was a child… She did look rather young. But…what would a child be doing out here?

Wait… She had asked him something, hadn’t she? He tried to concentrate, but he couldn’t remember what it was. “What do you want?” he managed to say, though his voice was hoarse and the words came out broken. She didn’t seem to be a zombie… If she was, he would already be dead by now, eaten alive. The way she was just perched beside him seemed human enough. Still, he tried to remember where his gun was… Was it still in his hand? He flexed his fingers, but all he grabbed was mud. It took him a moment, but then he realized that his gun had fallen and was now resting a few feet away from him, slowly sinking into the soggy ground. He stretched out an arm weakly, desperately reaching, but it was too far away. All the action did was stretch his wound, making him gasp in pain, and he let his hand go limp. He lied there, eyes still locked on his weapon.

[brighteye]

He didn't respond to her first question. Maybe he was unconscious? That could mean he was very badly off. There was a lot of blood on the ground; he could be about to enter the realm of the dead at this point. That wouldn't stop her from trying to save him - she'd try until his last breath. That was just how she worked, how she lived, because helping the living was just her way. It made things difficult for other nurses, she knew, because her determination to help those that were almost gone was hard on them and their resources. But she didn't care what the others thought, so long as she could help some of them survive.

And she had, in fact, saved people from Death's Door. So, when his whole body tensed up underneath her hand, she drew back quickly. If he did that, more blood would exit his body, and that would be horribly bad for him. "Shh. Calm down, sir. Don't do that. You'll lose blood faster." She said, her tone gentle and kind, with a firm undertone. If she was to help him, he couldn't keep tensing up like that. It would make all of the work she would do unravel as soon as he relaxed again, because his whole body would shift just a tad bit as it did so. Any stitches would tear, but bandages might be alright. However, he looked like he needed stitches.

"What do you want?" The man spoke, the broken remains of something much better. If he could speak, then that was a good sign. He wasn't too gone yet, he was still awake. Now, most would have assumed that his tensing meant he was awake, but some tense in their sleep so she hadn't assumed that he was awake. Now she knew for sure, and she could hopefully get him to cooperate so that she could save his life. The key word there was hopefully. If he caught sight of her and thought she was too young to work on him, he might be more stubborn than was healthy for him.

"I'm a nurse, sir. I want to help you, save your life. Help me roll you over so I can look at your wounds, okay? It'll hurt, but once I can see what's wrong, I can help." She said slowly and clearly, so that he could hear everything she said. As she spoke, one of his arms stretched out, away form his body. He gasped in pain, and she saw more blood come from underneath the arm. Her eyes were on the blood as she spoke again, hurriedly. "Sir, don't move! You'll lose more blood!" She looked over to see what it was that was so badly needed. A gun. Fine, if he wanted that to make him feel better, she'd give it to him.

She carefully stepped over him and grabbed the weapon, before taking his hand and gently setting it within his grasp. She was taking a mighty risk here. He might shoot her or attack her, and she could die here with him. "Now, please, let me turn you over." She told him firmly. "Don't move around anymore after that." She really, really hoped he wouldn't shoot her. That'd be painful, and then she wouldn't be able to help him, or anyone else for that matter, again.

[Braden Parker]

“Shh. Calm down, sir. Don't do that. You'll lose blood faster.”

The girl’s voice was gentle when she spoke, slightly calming. He didn’t think she was a scavenger… or at least he hoped she wasn’t. If she was, she probably would have already taken his gun and ran for it. Instead, however, she was crouched beside him with a worried look on her face. Braden had no idea what she was doing out here in this weather, but he didn’t have the strength to ask. He stared up at her through his half open eyes, wondering what she was planning on doing, what she wanted from him.

“I'm a nurse, sir. I want to help you, save your life. Help me roll you over so I can look at your wounds, okay? It'll hurt, but once I can see what's wrong, I can help.”

“Nurse?” His voice was quiet, barely audible. There was a hint of surprise in it. He had thought this girl was too young to be a nurse. Then again, he couldn’t see her all that well, as it was too difficult for him to focus. What else had she said…? He thought hard, struggling to recollect the words that had just been spoken to him seconds before. It took him a moment, but eventually he was able to make her words replay in his mind. She wanted to help him. Foolish girl… It wasn’t safe to be roaming the streets, especially during a storm. While the scavengers may have been warded off by the rain, it didn’t really have any effect on the zombies, and they would still be wandering the streets. In fact, it was probably only a matter of time until some came and found him. He had been lying here for a while now and the smell of blood was fresh in the air. He was the perfect meal for them. The scent of blood would attract them sooner or later – it was only a matter of time. “You should go,” he whispered. “It…It isn’t safe.” He struggled to form the words. “T-The blood…”

“Sir, don't move! You'll lose more blood!”

Braden closed his eyes again, not really hearing what she had said… something about losing more blood. He wondered how much he had left to spare. Judging by the red tint on the ground around him, he probably didn’t have much. As he lied there, trying not to move, he felt something cold and hard suddenly press against his open palm. He let his eyes slowly open at this, and to his surprise he saw the girl had handed him his gun. Well, she certainly wasn’t a zombie, that was completely clear now. The undead would never hand a soldier a weapon. They didn’t have the proper brain functions to do something like that. Besides, it would just be plain stupid. He stared at the weapon that was now resting in his hand, and he slowly closed his fingers around it, gripping it tightly. The feel of the cold steel against his skin comforted him somewhat. He couldn’t explain why. Maybe it was just because he was so used to it being there, or perhaps because it made him feel better protected.

“Now, please, let me turn you over. Don't move around anymore after that.”

Was she still persisting on that? “I…told you to go,” he rasped. He wouldn’t risk the life of another in the hope that they could save his. The girl had sounded firm though, and he doubted that she would take no for an answer. He inhaled slowly, taking a breath, bracing himself for the pain he knew would come. Then, with a quiet grunt, he released his gun and tried to lift himself from the ground. He pushed his body up with his arms, biting his lip to stop himself from crying out. His hands slid against the slippery mud and he nearly fell. He winced, feeling the movement tear at his shoulder. He had to dig his fingers into the damp earth to keep himself up. He was now kneeling weakly in front of the girl, covered in mud, blood dripping from his shoulder wound. His arms trembled slightly as he tried to prop himself up. He needed to take his weight off them…but it was hard to move. It hurt. His shoulder screamed in protest and his leg throbbed. His lower arm still ached, and he wasn’t sure if that’s because it had gotten shot there too… or if he had been bitten by one of the zombies. His lower lip was bleeding from where his teeth dug into the skin, only adding one more injury to his already bloody body.

[brighteye]

[/i] His voice still sounded bad, and it was quieter this time. Still, she could hear him just fine, as she was focused on him. "Yes, sir. I'm a nurse." She repeated, hoping that it got through to him. "You should go. It... It isn't safe. T-The blood." He desperately was trying to make her understand something that was important to him, something about his blood. She wasn't sure what; she hadn't had such an issue before. Never had she ran into someone this badly off in the City. Sure, she'd stitched up a kid, but he hadn't been this bloody. Other than the guard who had been killed defending her the last time she was here, this was the worst person off she'd had in the City.

He seemed to be having a hard time understanding what was going on - that was the blood loss. That meant she was running out of time; she needed to hurry and get him to turn over. If not, then he'd be dead and she'd have to make it so that he couldn't be turned. She really, really did not want to do that. It was the most unpleasant part about being a nurse - ensuring that the dead could not become reanimated. She shivered unconsciously, closing her eyes briefly before reopening them. She'd only done it twice - the other times someone else had done so, thankfully. It was one of the reasons she was so intent on saving people. If they were alive and well, she didn't have to make sure they stayed dead.

His fingers closed tightly around the gun she'd handed him. Maybe she had more time than she thought, if he could have such a response. With the water falling from the sky, it might have made the blood run more freely, causing her to believe there was more than was really there. That would be nice. "I... told you to go." He told her again, softly. She shook her head, as if he could see or understand the gesture. "I'm going to help you." she replied, stubbornly. If this half-dead man thought he was going to chase her off so easily, he had another thing coming.

Then, without any warning, he was moving, trying to get off the ground. Using his arms, he was trying to move his body up off the muddy ground. Eyes wide, she saw his hands slip and she scrambled forward to help, but he caught himself, forcing himself into a kneeling position. She saw his arms shaking, and she moved closer to him with care. "Let me help." Krystal told him, carefully pressing against his upper chest - she didn't see what looked to be a wound there, but she couldn't be certain since there was blood just about everywhere. "Come on, let's sit up." She said aloud. Krystal wasn't sure if she was talking to herself or to him, but it really didn't matter. Hopefully she could help get him into a seated position - she was a nurse, not some muscular fighter!

Digging her feet and knees into the water-and-blood soaked ground beneath her, she took the weight of his body off of his arms and onto herself. Any strain on his body would just cause more harm to his over-taxed body. She ignored the blood that was now coating her hands and other parts of her body. It wouldn't be the first or last time that blood had been on her body. That was just one of those wonderful things that came with the job of a nurse. She ignored the feel of it, gross as it may be, and continued to push the man's body upwards, hopefully into a seated position.[/ul]

[Braden Parker]

“I'm going to help you.”

The girl sounded very sure of herself, and Braden knew her mind had already been made up. He had no idea why she was doing this, trying to help him. He supposed he was thankful in some sort of way though. He knew that if she hadn’t come along he would have died one way or another. IT confused him though. What ever happened to ‘everyman for himself’ or ‘survival of the fittest’? That’s how most people thought these days. They were selfish and greedy, and they would do just about anything it took to survive, even kill another human, one of their own. This girl’s attitude surprised him. It was similar to his own. He knew it he had been in her position he probably would have tried to help too, no matter how hopeless the situation seemed.

“Let me help.”

Braden felt the gentle touch of the girl’s hands against his chest. He opened his mouth, about to tell her that he was fine, that he didn’t need her help. “I’m…” He got half the sentence out, but then he trailed off. A tired sigh escaped his lips and he hung his head forward. He did need her help. He knew this. For once he was the one in need of saving. He didn’t have to like it though. He was used to being the one doing the rescuing, the one being the hero. He hated having to be in the opposite position. It was strange having to accept help from another, especially a small girl, and he didn’t like it at all. He silently cursed the selfish kids he had saved earlier. If only they hadn’t been so foolish... If only they had stopped to think for a moment before firing the bullets... If only, if only. There were too many “if only’s” in life, and Braden knew that it was no use to obsess over them. It wouldn’t change anything.

“Come on, let's sit up.”

The man nodded in response, a slight movement of his head. His hands were still pressed firmly against the ground, arms straining to keep himself upright, as they were supporting most of his weight. A few moments later, however, the weight was being lifted. The small girl was pushing him up with her body, or trying to anyway. Braden was probably quite heavy for her, and he knew that if he didn’t help his deadweight would be impossible for her to lift on her own. Luckily, he had no wounds on his chest, otherwise he would have been in a great deal of pain, or, well, more pain than he was already in. The pressure of her hands did, however, strain the muscles in his shoulder, making him grimace. He forced his weight back onto his legs, and with the girl’s help he was able to rock onto his knees. As he did so, he felt the pressure of his body push against his injured leg, and a jolt passed through him. Reflexively, he grabbed onto the girl in front of him, leaning against her heavily, trying to take the weight off his leg. He bit down on his lip harder, causing a thin stream of blood to run down his chin.

“Sorry,” he whispered to her. He felt embarrassed, ashamed, and he tried to put his pride aside for once, or what little of it he had left anyway. He clung to the girl, his wet boy pressing against hers. He was probably getting his blood all over her… He tried to move back slightly, forcing his legs to take more of his weight again. This made his face go a little paler. What was this girl planning to do to him anyway, out here in the rain? Was she going to try and bandage him? If so, was that really a smart idea? What would she do if a horde of zombies came up behind her while she was doing that? It was only a matter of time, after all. The animated corpses were like sharks. They would smell the blood and flock. The only positive thing they had on their side was the rain. It would help dilute the scent of his blood. “Not here,” Braden choked out. His breaths were coming slightly harder now. “I-It’s…not safe.”

[brighteye]

[/i], but she was sure that in the state he was in, she would eventually win that battle. But, if he struggled against her helping him, she might still lose the war of sorts. Blood loss was a difficult thing to battle, especially out in the middle of an alley in the rain, with no allies around her. She wasn't sure of the man; for all she knew he was allied with the southern faction. However, she couldn't bring herself to care. It didn't matter who you were or what you supported - pain was pain, and this man was in it. It was her job to alleviate that.

As she pressed up against him, he began to speak, but ended the attempt with a sigh. Good. The more he spoke, the more strength he was using. Even if it wasn't a lot of strength, it was still some, and with his body so broken and bloody, he needed all the strength he had. She wished that he wasn't so badly off, that it wasn't raining. As soon as she could, she had to get him out of it. The rain was dangerous to humans, and when it got into his wounds it would cause infection, which would be bad. Good thing she carried alcohol and other medical equipment on her at all times.

He was heavy. He had looked to be in shape - meaning he had muscle. Muscle meant dense tissues, heavier than one who didn't work out as much. As she wasn't one to go work out or any of that, his heavier mass was difficult for her to lift. Still, she fought to get him upright anyway, because that was where he needed to be for her to help him. Then, it got a bit easier - she realized that he was helping her. She wasn't going to yell at him for it either - if she did this by herself it would take much longer than if she had help. They managed to get him onto his knees, but then he convulsed forward, grabbing her.

His weight was against her again suddenly as he sagged almost completely against her. She grunted with the sudden pressure, forcing her body to stay upright against his weight, although what she really wanted to do was buckle under the strain. She had no idea what had caused him to grab her so suddenly - probably pain. He had an injury somewhere she hadn't seen, and the movement had probably strained it, causing him to react. She understood the why - but she really wished he didn't either way. But she suffered in silence, because to complain at him would be just rude. It wasn't his fault that he was in pain or that he was heavier than her. "Sorry." he whispered as he clung to her.

"Shh. It's alright." She forced out, her tone still light and kind. It was hard to speak while forcing herself to keep pressing against him. "Take your time." His weight slowly moved off of her once more, and she let him go carefully. As he did so, she looked up to see when the pain hit him. It wasn't long, she could see his skin go white. "Not here." He told her, finally, breathing hard. "I-It's.... not safe." He forced out. Did he want her to move him? Could he even walk? Because if he couldn't, there was no way she could get him anywhere.

"Can you walk, then? We need to get out of the rain, at least. I can support you..." She trailed off, trying to think of what to say. "We need to stand. Can you do that?" That was the first thing at hand. If he couldn't get onto his feet, they were going to be stuck here in this alleyway. She'd forgotten all about the threat the zombies posed them, here in the alley with blood around them. That was unimportant, at least, in her mind it was. No, she needed to help this man here; the zombies could wait.[/ul]

[Braden Parker]

“Shh. It's alright. Take your time.”

She was being too nice. She really should have just left him. Stupid foolish girl. He couldn’t tell her to go away though. Partly because he knew that she would probably just ignore him, and partly because he wanted her to stay. He wasn’t ready to die…The thought terrified him, especially now that he was so close to his grave. He wanted to live. And right now she seemed like his only hope. She said she was a nurse, right? Well, if that was true, she might be able to save him… He had seen nurses work miracles before. His injuries wouldn’t be too hard to patch up. He had just lost so much blood…

“Can you walk, then? We need to get out of the rain, at least. I can support you...We need to stand. Can you do that?”

The girl spoke. She was asking if he could walk, if he could stand. “I…don’t know.” Braden hadn’t tried to get up since he had collapsed. His body had been too weak, and part of him had just given up. But now there was hope again. A girl had come to save him…or try anyway. Perhaps he would have gained some energy from resting…? It was a vain hope, as he knew that it was actually the opposite. With each passing second he was losing more blood, more of the little life force he had left. What was keeping him alive was his willpower alone. It was amazing what a person’s will to live could do, what someone’s spirit was capable of. Braden had witnessed it hundreds of times before out on the battlefield. Men that should have been dead rose from the ground, fought with everything they had, and somehow managed to come out alive.

Braden tried to stand on his own, but he was too weak. He managed to straighten up slightly, getting about half way standing, but then his knees buckled, unable to support his weight. He fell back down to the mud, grabbing onto the girl to keep himself from collapsing flat on his face again. The attempt left him feeling dizzy. It wasn’t the pain. No, he could have dealt with that. He could have handled the stabbing sensation in his leg, but his body wouldn’t move. He had lost too much blood and no longer had energy to move around. Maybe if the girl helped him up, if she helped pull him to his feet… He looked over to her with a pained expression on his face. He didn’t want her to have to do this though. If he asked her to help him up, he’d probably end up pulling her down into the mud with him, and that would not do either of them any good. “Sorry,” he said again, voice only a thin whisper of breath.

This was so pathetic. Maybe he deserved to die. If he couldn’t even stand… The girl should just leave him, just go and take care of herself. He would have told her to do this, but if she was anything like him, he knew that his protests would be in vain. He would never be able to leave a person, no matter how badly off they were, on the street to die. Braden didn’t believe in lost causes. It was because of this belief that he didn’t give up and let himself die. He still might, even willpower couldn’t save you if you’d lost all your blood, but he had to try and fight it, just for a little while longer. He had been blessed with an unexpected gift.

“H-Help me,” he said to her, voice just above a whisper. “Help me…stand up.” If he could get on his feet he might be able to make it. If he could just get on his feet…then there was still hope. He would have suggested the girl just drag him off somewhere, but she didn’t look strong enough. “They’ll be coming…They’ll…” His voice trailed off and he winced in pain, unable to finish. He leaned against the girl, trying hard not to put too much weight on her. “T-The zombies.” She understood, didn’t she? That if they didn’t get out of there, they’d both probably end up dead. In this condition, Braden doubted he would be able to fire his gun very well. It was too hard to lift it because of the strain it put on his shoulder muscles. If it came to that though, if the corpses found them, he would have no choice. He’d use the last of his strength to protect this girl, whoever the hell she was. “The…blood.” His voice was dying, his vocal cords failing him. He just wanted to get this point across from her, and he hoped he had succeeded through his slurred words and choppy sentences.

[brighteye]

[/i] His voice was getting weaker. Slowly it was getting harder to understand the man. They needed to move. 'I don't know' wasn't a 'no', so they still had a chance. They needed to travel a short distance - she had seen a door a bit further ahead. Hopefully it was unlocked... because if it wasn't, she didn't know where they could go. Maybe she'd spy another door. However, that was all depending on getting the man to stand up. Their success - his survival - was all based on what he could do with his broken body.

He started to move on his own, attempting to stand up without her aid. He was nearly halfway to his feet when he fell again. She'd expected as much - if he couldn't sit up on his own, there was no way he was standing up, especially with the amount of pain he seemed to be put in with the effort. So, when he fell upon her again, she was braced for the impact, catching his form carefully as he slammed against her. She barely held herself up - she may have been ready for him to land against her, but that didn't mean that she was ready for him to hit her as hard as he had. His face turned towards hers, and she clearly saw the pain on his face. She wished she could take some of it into herself, to relieve him of the pain that he was feeling. "Sorry." His voice was weaker still, barely a whisper.

"Don't apologize. It's okay. Really." She assured him, keeping her tone firm. Krystal was almost one hundred percent certain he hadn't done this to himself. As such, he had no reason to apologize to her. She was the one who had chosen to help him - if anyone was to apologize it was her. She was the one helping him, which in turn was causing him pain, so she should be saying 'sorry'. But to apologize would only cause him to want to speak again, and she didn't want him to waste his strength and breath on her. It wasn't worth it. "H-Help me... Help me... stand up." He gasped out.

"Of course." She replied simply. Krystal was going to help him anyway, but she supposed that if he asked it made him feel a bit better about it, just like his gun. She glanced down at the object in question - it was still laying in the mud where he had lain it. Once they were standing, neither of them would be able to reach it - she would be standing, supporting the male, and he would be in no shape to bend over to grab it. That in mind, she carefully slid one hand to the ground, bracing his weight on her shoulders and free arm as she groped through the mud. After a long moment, her fingers closed on the barrel. She lifted it and tucked it into the waistband of her skirt - having no other place to put it at the moment - and shivered as the cold, wet metal touched her skin.

"They'll be coming... They'll..." He forced out of his throat. Her attention went back to him as she started to help him rise. "The zombies..." What about the zombies? She had honestly spared them no thoughts since she'd lain eyes on his broken form. "The... blood..." The blood? Her eyes widened slightly, but other than that she had no reaction. She suddenly realized how dangerous their situation was. However, she didn't rush. 'The hurried-er you go, the behind-er you get,' was a quote her mother had favored. If she rushed now, it might cause more damage the man, or he might fall, or a hundred other events might occur.

"Come on. We have to get moving sir. Let's get up together, 'kay?" She hoped he could hear her, that he was still listening. He needed to help her in getting him off the ground, else they wouldn't be going anywhere. "Alright, on three. One... two... three." She started digging into the ground once more with her legs, forcing the man on top of her upwards, towards their goal. "Almost there. Just a little more..."[/ul]

[Braden Parker]

“Come on. We have to get moving sir. Let's get up together, 'kay?”

Braden just kind of nodded his head, a dazed look on his face, and it was unclear if he had even heard what the girl had just said. Right…get up…he had to get up. His eyes rested on the girl's face for a moment as he tried to focus. There seemed to be two of her though. Feeling dizzy, he lowered his gaze to the ground, he thought was the ground. The amount of blood startled him. His eyes went wide in horror, and he forced himself to look away. In his current state, his mind wasn’t being rational. He never considered that maybe the rain had caused the blood to spread and that half of the red liquid on the ground was probably just crimson stained water. Then again, even if it that was the reasoning, he’d still lost a lot. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t be so weak right now, and he would be able to stand without the help of this girl. Great. That meant the bullet, which was still lodged somewhere in his shoulder, had probably hit something vital.

“Alright, on three. One... two... three.”

The girl began pushing him upward. It hurt. Luckily, it seemed like his senses were starting to become numb, and the pain wasn’t as intense. He figured that was probably a bad sign, but it got rid of some of the pain, and for that he was grateful. As the girl shoved him up, he tried to help her. He placed his hands on her shoulders, using her as a boost, and fought to straighten his legs. It was harder than he had expected. His legs felt like jello, and he had little control over them. This scared and frustrated him at the same time. God dammit…why couldn’t he move them? Why wouldn’t they do what he wanted?! They were his legs! He should have more control than this. He took a slow breath, trying to calm himself. No…don’t rush it. Move slowly…Maybe if he concentrated harder…

“Almost there. Just a little more...”

Braden was nearly standing straight now. He bit down on his lip again to stop himself from shouting, and then forced himself the rest of the way up, putting weight on both his feet now. He sucked in his breath, gasping as he felt shot of pain race up his leg. “Move,” he commanded the girl through clenched teeth. Though, in his current condition, it hardly sounded like a command. Instead it came out as a desperate plea. As he spoke, he put one of his arms around her shoulders, using her as a prop. Braden leaned against her heavily for a second, recovering, trying to get a little strength back. He tried to put all his weight on his good leg, lifting his injured one off the ground to relieve it. Unfortunately, he knew he wouldn’t be able to do that the whole time. The girl was small, and she would not be able to hold his full weight for long. In fact, he was surprised at how well she had been doing so far. She was strong for a girl of her size.

He took a step forward, limping awkwardly, and then tentatively set his injured foot down. This made his body tense, but he tried to push the pain aside. It was bad, but not as bad as it could be. For whatever reason, his body was becoming numb. He had no idea if it had something to do with blood loss or if it was just from the cold. He hadn’t realized it until now, probably because of the intensity of the pain, but the rain was actually quite chilly, like little droplets of ice. Braden waited a moment, standing perfectly still, and then tried again, moving another small step forward. He did this a few times before collapsing back on the girl, leaning heavily against her. He prayed she wouldn’t fall over.

“Sorry…” He apologized again, but his voice was probably too faint to hear, drowned out by the pounding of the rain. He forced is weight off the girl and then took another step. His movements were slow and delayed. He was moving the speed of a snail, but right now that’s all he could muster. Braden was about to take another step, but then he stopped, seeming to realize he had no idea where they were going. “Where…?” He didn’t bother to look at the girl, as the movement would only waste energy, and he needed very ounce that he had left.

[brighteye]

His head moved in response to her words, but she highly doubted he understood, if the far-off look on his face was anything to go by. He looked at her with a puzzled look for a long moment, before dropping his face to the ground, but he quickly looked away from there too. He was going into shock, she realized. He'd go unresponsive soon, and then she would have to work on him, whether or not they were in the rain. Hopefully they weren't - they couldn't afford to stay outside much longer. It was a miracle they hadn't been found yet by the zombies, but it was only a matter of time if they didn't get moving soon. If those poor souls caught up with them, then it wouldn't matter where they were. She wasn't a fighter - she would be of no defense to them, and he was half-dead. Though she would try to stop the undead if they were to come across the two of them, she was doubtful that she'd succeed. That's just how it went.

She started heaving against his body, trying to get him off the ground. He seemed to be heavier than he was a few minutes ago, which was impossible. No one could get heavier in mere minutes. She felt heavy hands against her shoulder, and then he was pressing down against her, trying to lift himself up. Okay - she lied. Now he was heavy - because not only was she fighting to help him up, but she was fighting against the force he was pressing against her. She locked her whole body rigid - she was not going to fall flat on her face. If she were to fall, he'd fall on top of her, and then they'd be stuck. They'd never move after that, and then he really would die. That was unacceptable. So she forced her body to work in a way she'd never made it before, and it was not happy in the least. It was yelling at her, but she paid it no mind. They had to stand.

They finally got him standing upright, and she saw he had bitten into his lip - blood was flowing freely from there. He was obviously in a great deal of pain. "Move." His voice came out weak, but she knew that their time for him being on his feet was limited. If they didn't get to shelter soon, he would collapse. One of his arms was around her shoulder as he leaned against her. One of her own arms went up to support him, as she locked her knees and back to hold them both up, but even then she nearly collapsed under his weight. All that was holding her upright was sheer willpower - because wasn't going to allow herself to fall over. That would be counterproductive to their goal, and to saving his life. She could stand a little bit of pressure if he could move with injuries and most of his life-blood on the ground. As he took a step forward, she moved forward with him, balancing him as he went. He paused for a moment before moving again. She didn't rush him - if she tried to pull him along faster than he was able to move, it might end badly. She had to let him go at his pace. After a few more steps he had to pause, resting heavily against her once more. "Sorry... Where...?" He wanted to know where to go, before he continued.

"There's a door. There." She lifted the arm that wasn't supporting him to point ahead of them. "It's not that far now. We can make it." She said, optimistically. She hoped he could see where she had pointed. She gently tugged him in the right direction. Krystal thought the door was ajar, but she could be mistaken. It could be some of the dirty water, or a shadow, or just a figment of her imagination. Because that door was the only hope she had - she couldn't see any other doors to get into. If they had to go too terribly far, they might run into an enemy... or he might die.

[Braden Parker]

“There's a door. There.”

Braden did not register what the girl had said. Her voice seemed quiet, far away, even though she was standing right next to him. He saw from the corner of his eye that she had raised one of her hands. What was she doing? She was…pointing at something? Braden lifted his head a little, forcing it up. His gaze traveled in the direction the girl was gesturing. Everything was slightly blurred and out of focus, dancing around unsteadily in front of him. As he searched for what she was pointing at, he began to feel a little lightheaded. Just as he was about to look down again, lower his gaze, his gaze caught something. What was it? It took him a moment, but then he realized it was a door. That’s probably what she was pointing at. Good, now he had something to aim for at least. If he felt like giving up, he could just look to the door, count the steps he had left until he could lie down again.

“It's not that far now. We can make it.”

The girl sounded so optimistic. Braden hardly heard what she said, but he could still make out the tone of her voice. He didn’t know how she was doing it. He was actually pretty damn scared. Maybe she was just acting so confident to make him feel better, to give him more hope… It didn’t help much though. He just had to keep focusing on the door. If he kept it in sight, it helped him. With every painful step he took, he was one step closer to shelter, to safety.

His breaths were coming more heavily now, a result from the effort he was exerting. He was using energy he didn’t have. He wanted to stop and rest. He wanted to lie down in the cool mud, just collapse. He knew this wasn’t an option though. Not when that door was so damn close. His feet dragged slowly in the mud, and he took it one step at a time. He paused between steps, catching his breath, and then moved on. He wanted to move faster, but he couldn’t. His body wasn’t responding the way he wanted it to. He let out a frustrated grunt. The closer they got to the door, the faster he tried to move. He nearly fell once, trying to move faster than he was capable. Luckily, the girl was there next to him, and he was able to use her to catch himself, to balance again. He tried to apologize, but no words came out this time. His vocal cords didn’t seem to want to cooperate either.

They were almost to the door, probably just another ten steps now. A healthy person could have made it there in a few seconds, but at the speed Braden was going it would probably take another minute or two. He took another step, pulling himself slowly forward, when he heard a noise. His grip on the girl next to him tightened and his eyes widened in fear. He thought he had heard another step of footsteps behind them, coming from one of the empty alleyways. He turned his head slowly, terrified at what he would see. Something moved. One of the diseased corpses was creeping down the street, blood running from its mouth from its latest victim, arms outstretched as it prepared to kill them. The sight sent him into a panic, and he began to move faster, adrenaline doing what sheer willpower alone could not accomplish.

The door, miraculously, was open. Another minute passed, and they had finally reached it. Braden dragged himself inside, still using the girl as a support. The second his feet touched the wooden floor inside the building, his body gave out. The strength evaporated from him and he collapsed forward, dragging the girl down with him. He fell hard against the wooden surface, lying on the dry ground panting. Luckily, he had not fallen on top of the girl, because that probably would have hurt her. His arm still clutched her weakly though, holding her next to him. “It’s coming,” he gasped. “No…don’t’ let it…” His voice trailed off, eyes staring at nothing, wide and full of fear. “It’s going to…” His hand reached out, shaking, searching for something. He realized he had left his gun outside lying in the mud. “No…”

He didn’t need the gun though. Maybe he would tomorrow, but not right now. There was no zombie. There never had been one. It was only a hallucination.

[brighteye]

[/i] He was terrified of something, but she wasn't sure what.

"What's wrong? There's nothing out there. Let me go close the door, alright?" Gently she pulled her arm from his grasp and shut the door, glancing around to find something to keep it shut. Her searching eyes found another door - open, which she darted across the room to close. It would be just her luck to have some monster come from the depths of the building to get them, instead of from outside. Then she looked once more, and found a table and some chairs. Once two chairs were thrust under the door knobs of each door, to keep them from turning, she turned back to the bleeding man. There was nothing more she could do to protect them.

She knelt at his side once more, wincing as her knees touched more blood. Quickly she tugged her pack off of her back and opened it, producing scissors, with which she removed the bloody cloth that surrounded his shoulder. It looked to be the worst wound, and as such she was going to deal with it first.

"Can you tell me what caused your wounds?" She asked, trying to keep him with her, conscious, by asking him questions. "How about your name? What's your name?" She kept her tone calm and cool, while she quickly digging through her bag for forceps. Krystal had to ensure that there was nothing in the wound besides flesh and bone, because if there was - by some random chance a bullet, glass, or wood, she would have to remove them, and quickly. Once her fingers touched the small piece of metal, she quickly, and gently, began messing with his wound, praying that it didn't hurt him too badly. She didn't have much time to wait for anesthetics, so she didn't apply any.[/ul]

[Braden Parker]

“What's wrong? There's nothing out there. Let me go close the door, alright?”

What? Did she not see it…? How could she not see it? This made him panic a little and he had to fight to try and calm himself down. “The zombie…It’s…going to…” he mumbled, words hardly understandable. He might as well have just been talking nonsense. Then again, in a way he was, as there were no zombies coming, at least not yet anyway. He had just lost too much blood, and he was beginning to see things, hallucinate. He had no idea the corpse he saw wasn’t real though, and he laid there on the floor certain that one was going to come barging in through the door at any second. Braden watched as the girl closed the door, putting a chair against it to keep out the zombies. Why hadn’t she seen it? He wanted his gun. It wasn’t here though. It was still outside. Damn it… Why had he left it out there?

Braden had managed to roll onto his back. He was now staring up at the ceiling with a blank expression. He just wanted to close his eyes… Just for a while… Only a second… As he lied there, his eyes opened and closed. He zoned out for a moment and everything went black. With a jolt, he forced his eyes open again. No. He couldn’t let himself rest yet. He was afraid, no terrified, that if he closed his eyes he might never open them again. So he fought to stay awake, fought to keep his eyes open. It was hard, almost as hard as walking here had been, but he tried hard to do it, keep staring at the girl, trying to concentrate on her face. Occasionally his eyes would close and he would start to lose consciousness, but he would always snap back awake a few moments later, looking more shaken, more frightened, each time it happened.

“Can you tell me what caused your wounds?”

The girl’s voice broke though his trance. Slowly, his gaze travelled to her. He was still unable to see her very clearly, and there were two images her face dancing around in front of him, blurred slightly. What had she asked him? He hadn’t been paying attention. He tried to think back on it, recall it somehow, but his mind was blank. All he could concentrate on was staying awake. He stared up at her with a dazed look. His body had obviously gone into shock from losing so much blood, rendering him incapable of speech. He felt pressure applied to his wound, but he paid little attention to it. He had grown used to the pain, and with the shock that had taken him over he could hardly feel it. There was an initial sharp twinge, but then it subsided again. He whimpered a little, but that was the only sound he really made in response to her.

“How about your name? What’s your name?”

Braden managed to open his eyes again, slowly forcing them open. Name… She wanted to know a name… His name…? He thought for a moment. His name…what was his name? Why couldn’t he remember it? He closed his eyes again, unable to keep them open any longer. He was silent for a few long seconds, but then he opened his eyes again and said weakly, “Braden.” He said one word and that was all he needed to say. He looked up at the girl with half-open eyes. He should probably ask her what her name was too… He never got the words out though, and the thought quickly died and faded away.

The wound itself was fixable. With some stitches and lots of resting it would probably be as good as new in a week or two. The only issue was that the bullet had went deep, torn through the muscle, making movement painful, and had most likely hit one of the major arteries, causing him to lose more blood than was normal for a typical gunshot. If the girl could just get the bullets out and bandage him up, he’d probably be fine. The only concern was that he had already lost so much blood, as he had been lying out on the street for quite a while before he had been found. “Am... I… g-gonna die?” Braden’s words were a thin whisper. His voice was weak, but there was still fear in it. His mind was elsewhere, eyes staring off into some other world, and he was speaking mostly to himself. He bit down on his lip again as the girl prodded at his wound, and this time he tasted blood in his mouth. He coughed weakly, trying to get rid of the taste.