Chapter 25: Jocelyn
I apply heavy pressure onto the wound on Kevin's chest beneath his vest. His hazel eyes look up blankly into mine. He coughs and a stream of blood flows from the corner of his lips. Only gasps emanate from his mouth. He looks desperately like he wants to say something.
It isn’t supposed to end this way. We had the cure. We aren’t supposed to die.
We were supposed to live. I'd fooled myself into thinking we would. I thought I was strong enough. I made the mistake of hoping.
I glance out quickly from behind the cash register. The remaining large cloudy windows of the toy store vaguely show that the entire street that is covered in vehicles and soldiers. Ten feet down from me are Nichols and Paige; they are huddled behind a display of toy cars. He holds a revolver in each hand, and Paige cradles the final vaccine against her chest. I figure the New Americans don’t see them or else they’d shoot through the thin cardboard. They haven't fired a shot since Carter went out there. God knows what they are doing to him. He's probably already dead. Ryan stands at the ready by the shattered window we came through, and Caitlyn...
I don't know what she was doing. Maybe she was done. Maybe if we all had simply stayed in that lobby, we would at least be at peace.
I'm certain that the New Americans are surrounding us and preparing for one last sweep. They can probably save more bullets that way. We’ve made them weary, but it won’t take long for
them to realize that we are broken. They can wait out there forever.
We can't wait. Kevin needs a doctor. He needs Carter. I stare into Nichols’s eyes from across the room. I wish I could be near him or Paige. I don't want to be alone when this ends.
Kevin's body seizes and his hands shake uncontrollably. He looks at me and tries to mouth something. His body settles, and then his head tilts back.
He dies.
Tears well in my eyes. Ryan looks over and slams his fist against the side of the counter. Kevin, Laura, Tori, Darry - how did we lose all of them so fast? I thought this was almost over.
We aren’t going to be too far behind them. I release Kevin's body to the floor and gently close his eyelids. Then, I reach for my gun.
I hate the thing, but I will not give up. For as much as I want to, I can't. None of us can. They've all died for us. We have to fight. I have to fight. I haven't stopped fighting since I walked into the hallway of our apartment building.
At least we can have one last stand - together.
I pull my shoulders back, still kneeling, and meet the eyes of Paige. Her eyes are sad and she gives a reluctant smile. An accepting smile. Nichols has his arms around her, as if his arms could stop one of their bullets.
He turns to me, and the gaze that I held with Paige meets his eyes.
“I’m down to four rounds. Two each,” he announces, shouting yet still maintaining a hushed tone.
“I’m empty,” Paige says.
I withdraw the clip from my gun and check the magazine.
Three shots left, including the one in the chamber.
“Three,” I shout.
“Maybe half of a clip,” Ryan adds.
“Well,” Nichols begins, “don’t miss.” He nods lightly with an obviously forced smile. I glance out again though the glass of the store. More Humvees and Jeeps surround the streets and sidewalks outside of the toy store. Several have their rifles pointed directly at us. A few red dots move around the back wall of the toy store, searching for a target.
They could easily rush in. What are they waiting for?
“There’s that exit in the back, the one Kevin tried. Maybe... maybe the three of us can push it. Just a few more inches and we could probably fit through,” Nichols says. Running towards that exit would leave all of us completely exposed. They'll probably fire everything they have when they see us all. It will be a turkey shoot. Hell, this building is probably surrounded, so even if we finally did force it open, what's the point? They always manage to be in front of us-
“Worth a shot...” Ryan says.
I don’t see another option either.
I'd rather die running than sitting here. I agree with a nod.
“On the count of three, stand and unload, then make a run for it,” Nichols says.
“What about Carter?” Paige asks.
“He's,” Ryan begins. “He's probably already gone.” Ryan's voice breaks at the end of his sentence. It's the first time I've heard it do that in weeks.
Paige's eyes are sad, but she nods. Even without him, she'll keep on fighting.
“Count of three,” Nichols announces.
It is suicide, but Nichols’s optimism gives me hope.
“One… two…” Before we can say three, a loud horn echoes through the store from the outside. The sound blares again. I glance out to see the New Americans running about in chaos. They all turn their guns away from us and toward the approaching sound.
BOOM.
An explosion flashes from outside; then, bursts of gunfire swallow up the wail of the horn. Their bullets aren't aimed at us.
“What the hell is going on?” I yell to Nichols and Paige. They both give blank stares and join me as I look out into the chaos. Ryan looks as well and shrugs his shoulders. He turns.
“This may be our chance,” Ryan commands, “Get ready to run.”
A few bullets fire into the toy store, and I again duck behind the counter. The others get back down, too. What is going on out there? Some more bullets pelt into the store, keeping us behind cover.
The gunfire is accompanied by the crunch of metal on metal - as if a metal toolbox was just slammed against the wall again and again and each time with a harder swing. I look over the counter and see a large black object moving closer. It shoves their vehicles to the side as if they were made of cardboard. Explosions follow the black object as it pushes through the street getting closer to us.
My eyes finally focus; it is a large black bus with plates of metal fastened all over the exterior. The diesel engine becomes audible as it moves closer.
The Sanctuary. Michael.
The bus slams several of the Humvees out of the way and charges for the toy store. I back up. It's only twenty yards away, at most, and still heads directly for us.
It's not slowing down. It's not stopping. I back up a few steps. I look to Nichols and Paige; it's headed directly towards them.
“Get out of there!” Ryan screams, while backing against the stores wall. I leap safely out of the way and I crouch to prepare for the debris and glass. The bus mounts the curb-
It shatters through one of the remaining glass windows of the toy store; Nichols and Paige dive as the bus skids to a stop a quarter of the way into the center of the toy store. The mounted gun on the back fires into the New Americans. Several of their vehicles explode from the heavy gun.
They may have just saved us. This isn't over, yet.
Michael steps from the door and grabs a handle on the surface of one of the deployed hinge-shields on the side of the vehicle. The one on the left side opens up and provides cover for a nearly the entire store, including where Ryan and I are. There is about a ten foot gap between the wall and the shield that they will be able to enter. Such a narrow gap will slow them down as they try to enter. Bullets immediately ricochet off the steel barrier. The right side of the bus has nearly a fifteen foot gap; Michael needs to open the shield on the other side, too.
I stand. He raises his weapon briefly and lowers it when he recognizes me.
“Overheard about you all getting captured on the radio. Thought you could use some help. We could hear this commotion from the other side of downtown.” I smile and run behind the steel cover. Nichols and Paige manage to make their way over to us, using the cover of the bus. The incessant incoming fire rocks the barrier and the bus.
The mobile barrier nudges back as a rocket crashes into it, but it holds strong.
Michael walks to the cargo hold and pulls it up. He tosses us new guns and a few spare clips.
“We've still got a hell of a fight. They're going to be coming around the sides soon. Is this everyone?”
“We're missing Carter, and…” I still have to hold on to hope, “… and Caitlyn.”
“Alright,” Michael answers. “They have five minutes. Then we are loading up and getting the hell out of here.”
Michael moves behind the bus's shield and fires through a slit in the thick medal. I slam in a clip and pull the hammer back. Ryan starts to yell commands – he's okay with waiting.
“Jo, get in that bus and fire from a porthole. Paige, I need you behind that register in the back, keeping that right side of that bus clear until we get that second shield open. Nichols, you're with me. We go where we are needed.” He looks briefly down to the ground and then back up. “And be careful.”
This isn't over. As I step into the bus, its engine suddenly quiets down. Michael quickly enters the bus, and judging by the look on his face, it wasn't supposed to turn off...
Regardless, I find a small opening in the buses armor, bring the rifle to my shoulder, and fire into the chaos ensuing outside the toy store.
Chapter 26: Caitlyn
While the others run into the toy store, I separate and go out the back. Hearing voices, I quickly duck as two soldiers rush past me into the lobby. That bomb will be a nice treat for them.
We aren’t going to make it out of this alive, but I need to make sure someone dies with us. I feel guilty leaving them, but this is more important than anything else is; this is about Sara. Maybe killing him will stop all of this. I clutch the gun in my hand and move behind cover. When I am outside in the snow, there are several New Americans surrounding the building, but they don't see one tiny girl. The squads are about to advance inside.
The bomb explodes in a burst of fire and debris. The guards about to enter run away in panic. A few even drop their guns in the confusion.
Time for one last mission.
I stalk through the streets and run across to the other side, rolling behind a Jeep and staying under their eye level. Their attention focuses on the burning inferno for the entire time that it takes me to slip past them. I work along the building to the rear of the gathering convoy.
I move downwind.
I don't make a sound.
One last kill.
He has to be there somewhere. I patiently kneel behind a newspaper dispenser and inspect each man in front of me. I only saw his face once above a fireplace, but I know I'd remember it.
After several minutes, I start to lose faith. My eyes wander to the nearby shops and quickly light up. Not far from me is a hunting store. Maybe they...
This rifle won’t do. I raise it to my shoulder and look down the sight at several soldiers. This isn’t my weapon; I can’t take a chance of missing. It's worth a try to check.
I drop the weapon and bolt to the hunting store. The front window is shattered. In stride, I jump through the opening and roll, quickly finding my feet. I glance out the window. None of them outside saw me.
Excellent.
The store's empty. I imagine this was one of the first places ransacked after the plague. People wanted their guns. One of the metal display stands has fallen over. Just the tip of something sticks out from under it.
Maybe I can rely on a little luck today.
I spring to it and grip the corner. It takes a strong pull, but I free the bow from beneath the steel. It's different from what I was used to, but it would do. I pull the string back – it's definitely doable. A few arrows are scattered about. Only a handful of them aren't broken.
I will not need more than one. I sprint back onto the sidewalk with my new weapon in hand.
With this, I won't miss.
I wait patiently. A group of soldiers carries a body.
No.
It's Carter. They set him down on the ground. A few guards nearby quickly set up a large tent. They flip Carter's body over to his front and duct tape his hands.
Thank God. He's not dead.
They drag him inside the green canvas. What are they doing in that tent?
A new Humvee pulls up right next to the entrance to the Humvee. A uniformed and decorated soldier gets out of the passenger side and opens the back door. A man in a suit gets out.
It's
him.
I pull the string back with an arrow notched. I immediately relax it though; the distance is too great. I need to get closer. Matthews disappears into the tent. Dammit. When it's clear, that's where I need to be. They're
pretty concerned with containing the rest of them. Hopefully, that will keep their eyes off me – the only current advantage I have.
Several soldiers pass by me, and many more hover around the tent. It is going to be a miracle to skip past each of them. I wait for an opening.
After several minutes, the opening never comes. I brace my stance and prepare to make a dash straight for the tent. If I didn’t waste all of my luck on finding the bow, I'd stand a better chance. Besides, I just need to get there. It doesn’t matter what happens to me after. Avenging Sara is all that matters.
I finally understand that this is what it's all
about. I need to not only avenge her, but all of them. That's what always brings me back fighting. That's why I've needed to keep living. For this moment.
For only this moment.
I've lived the past six years hurting and killing. I've tried to stop, but this world always brings me back to this moment. Someone to kill. It's all I am after the plague. I'd never make it doing anything else. This is my ending - killing him for what he did to Walt and Sara. And for everyone else he hurt. After that, there's no one else to find. It'll be finished.
I can finally let go.
I take a few deep breaths, tighten my grip on the bow, and prepare to run. This is what everything has lead up to.
A horn blasts through the air, and I nearly stumble. The horn
is followed by gunshots. I look into the distance and watch as a giant bus pummels through the street. It is the Sanctuary’s bus. The Sanctuary to the rescue; I never imagined this.
Panic grips the New Americans between the tent and me. They run for cover and prepare to fight against the bus. It's my chance. I charge into the fray, ducking
momentarily behind their trucks and avoiding the eyes of the panicked New Americans. They fire at the bus and completely abandon the area around the tent. From cover, I run faster in another burst. One guards steps out in front of me from behind a Jeep. Before he can yell, I knock his gun to the side and slam my elbow into the side of his head. His face collides with the corner of the hood and his body collapses. My fingers struggle to readjust their hold on the bow and arrow. I am merely feet from the tent.
One last kill.
SLAM.
I run directly into a body, lose my footing, and drop the bow and arrow. I look up directly into Matthews’s face. I quickly stand and take a wild
swing, catching him off guard and landing it on his cheek. His hand raises his weapon, but I smash it away with my other fist. It falls to the ground and slides on the asphalt, disappearing under a truck. His face turns, and his eyes focus on me with anger. I swing again, but he blocks it and grabs my throat. His grip tightens viciously, and I violently strike his wrist, causing him to lose his grip. He pushes me back, and I lose my balance and fall.
My head smacks off the pavement, and I am briefly stunned. The gray sky above goes in and out of focus. As I come back to my feet, I see him picking up the bow. He grabs the arrow and begins to notch it as I rise to my feet.
I run forward as he pulls the arrow back.
I only need to cover a few more feet…
A yell escapes my mouth as the arrow pierces my shoulder. It doesn’t stop me, but my wince turns my head enough for me to see the head of the arrow protruding out the back of my body. I lunge forward, diving into Mathews’ waist. He falls onto his back and lets out a small yelp as the bow drops from his fingers, and his back collides in the slush on the asphalt. I quickly straddle his waist and grip his throat with my left hand.
He may as well have been the one who cut off those two fingers.
He may as well been the one who killed Walt.
He may as well have been the one who killed my sister.
I pull back with my right fist and hit his cheek.
I hit it again.
And again.
And again
.
A sudden stinging pain in my head jerks my head back. He pulls a fistful of my hair on the back of my head, and I lose the grip on his throat. His other hand grabs the arrow protruding from my shoulder and slams it to the side.
The pain. I scream in agony as he throws me beside him against the ground. I land on my back.
On the protruding arrowhead.
I scream again and turn towards Matthews. He staggers to his feet and steps towards me. He lifts his foot up…
No…
And slams it into my stomach. I lose the little wind in my body.
He kicks my side again.
No…
Again.
I cough and a splash of red covers the snow in front of my mouth. He kicks me again.
My vision grows blurry. The pain stops and I look up. Matthews staggers away towards the nearby Humvee. He reaches into the open window, and pulls out something silver.
A knife. No.
I push myself onto my knees. The arrow still hangs from my shoulder. He faces me from a few yards away.
“You’re the twin sister of that bitch I once had,” he laughs and wipes the trickle of blood from his lip. “She talked about you quite a lot. I’m glad she escaped; I was going to have to kill her sooner or later anyway.”
He has no right.
No right.
I reach up to the arrow shaft, and grind my teeth together.
I pull as hard as I can and yell as I pull the arrow out of my body. A slight sense of relief fills me after the point exits my body. I grab the arrow from the base of the arrow point.
My knife.
“You are a tough little-” he says. I leap forward clutching the arrow.
He moves to the right and slashes downward. I scream in pain as the blade slices across my back, and I stumble forward onto all fours again.
I collapse beside him. He stands above and I face him, managing to rise to my knees.
“Enough,” he says, eyeing my throat.
I’m exhausted. The world around Matthews becomes hazy, and each blink makes it worse.
I’m dying. You’ve done your best Caitlyn. He's too strong.
A few more blinks and the haze takes shape. Sara…?
Matthews raises the blade.
I look to Sara.
“Get up,” she says with a sad smile. “Get up.”
I look back to Matthews, and the knife slicing towards my neck.
My chest contracts as I let out a yell, but I hear no sound. I reach up and grab the blade as it comes down. I don’t feel it tearing into the flesh of my left palm. I grip the arrowhead in my right hand and thrust it into his foot as hard as I can.
He screams. In the pain, he loses his grip on the knife, and my bloodied left hand pries it from his. I throw the knife to the side. I pull the arrow from his foot and drive it into the side of his knee. He buckles over in pain. I pull myself to my feet while Matthews falls to his knees right in front of me.
His eyes meet my own. My body feels numb.
My bloodied hand grabs his hair and tilts his head back.
I pull my other arm back and aim the arrow for his eye. I stare into his cold eyes as they beg for life.
The steel arrowhead goes into his head until it rests against the back of his skull. His head falls to the side and cracks on the asphalt.
It's finished.
My left hand is cut wide open from catching the knife, and warm blood runs down my back and shoulder. My senses return; the pain returns and it consumes my body.
I’m finished. It's all finally over.
I stumble, collapsing into a sitting position. I try to look around for anyone else, but darkness fills my vision. I fall onto my side in the small bit of snow.
Things grow darker.
I hope the others are a little luckier. I loved you all.
The world fades to black.
I’ll see you soon Sara.