"NO!" I almost jumped at the conviction in my own voice. "No. I'm sure I'll be fine." "But if you're in pain"
"Shut up. Is the next floor clear?"
"Yeah, but the others are checking the lower floors next. We're not going any lower yet. Are you sure you're" "Just peachy."
"Excel"
"I said, 'peachy!'" "Okay. Okay. 'Peachy.'" "Atta boy."
"Fuck off."
Maybe twenty seconds later I was pinned face down on the floor with Jaden holding my legs down, and Malachi practically sitting on my neck. Both were forcing my shirt up amidst my struggles. I was yelling everything from "Rape!" to "Fire!" to "Oh my God, look at the monkey!" But none of it seemed to be working very well. No. None of it was really working well at all. Especially since the only people
around
to help me were the same people attacking me.
"Jesus that looks horrible." "What?"
"Excel, you're missing chunks of flesh." "What?"
"It looks sort of like someone went at you with a meat cleaver."
"A
meat
cleaver?" "Ooh, dramatic." "I fucking
swear
."
"Will you guys just grow up?" "Look who's talking!"
"What are you like nine?" "What are you, like thirty?"
"I should fucking smack you." "Bite me!"
I still couldn't get over the 'meat cleaver' bit. "A
meat
cleaver?"
"Yes, Excel! A
meat
cleaver!" "Are you deaf or something?" "Will you get off of me?!" "Malachi, what're you doing?"
Malachi shot up like a bolt, and so did Jaden. I didn't know why, as I didn't recognize the voice at all. Not even a little bit. It was definitely female, but not Lila. No. There was far too much confidence, and knowledge for it to be Lila. But then who? A glance up got me no closer to an acceptable answer, expect there were a handful of people I just didn't know and
"Excel!" "Pixie?!"
I'm not entirely sure which of the following events happened first, but they all ended up happening. I was kissing her forehead, and cheeks, clutching her small frame to me for dear life. I was on my back, in extreme pain. Pixie was on my chest, clutching at
me
for dear life. Both of us were crying, and no one knew who started up first. And I was thanking a very, very spiteful God for doing
something
nice for once. I'd never been happier to see anyone in my life.
"I think yer crushin' her kiddo."
"Well then let me crush her Blaz, I've been worried sick." "Indeed ye have been, but so'ave I. Hand 'er over now."
It was reluctant, and took about ten minutes, but I did hand the little girl over. Everyone seemed overjoyed to see her, except for George. I couldn't place the look on his face and was about to say something, but didn't because he glared and looked away when he realized I was staring. Wiping my eyes, I suddenly felt
extremely
embarrassed. I'd been weeping like a child over the little girl. My face actually started to get hot until I realized that Lila was actually doing the same thing.
That
was a bit of a relief.
"Missed us?"
I could swear my heart stopped. "Dustin?"
The man was most certainly a sight for sore eyes. He looked sort of.. well.. let's say rugged. The short stubble he'd had about his face when I last remembered seeing him had progressed into what was practically a full fledged beard. His hair had gotten longer, and he was dirty. There was mud, possibly blood, and some unidentifiable substances smeared on every bit of exposed flesh, but his eyes still had the same twinkle, and I couldn't help but hug him as well. A tight hug that had him gasping, but smiling into my neck. I could
feel it. And he hugged back, obviously just as relieved to see me as I was to see him, even if he was a bit more subtle.
He'd been the first person I met during the goddamned zombie invasion. I was damned glad that he was okay. Especially since I knew he had a son out there. Suddenly thinking about my little journal, I remembered I'd have to mark them as found, and safe. Which was definitely a bit of a relief for me. I didn't want them to remain missing until I was dead, and the journal was left for the next person. I really didn't.
"I was afraid you guys were dead," I whispered. I was afraid I was going to start crying again, but the man rubbed my back, quite obviously used to caring for emotional children, and I calmed down a bit. Not enough for the tears in my eyes to go away completely, but enough so that I didn't make a total ass of myself.
"Hush, Excel. It's okay. I was worried
you
guys were dead," the man confessed, sounding almost as tired as he looked. I couldn't help but wonder what exactly it was he'd been stuck doing while he was away from us. Something unpleasant I was sure, but the thought vanished when his hand touched a particularly sore spot and I winced, causing his hands to stop moving.
"We had Malachi," was my quick response, because I didn't want to explain to him why I winced. "I didn't know that."
I thought back, "Oh yeah." And simply hugged the man tighter. "I'm damn happy you're okay." "We had help."
"Help?" "Yeah." "Yeah?"
"Okay guys," Dustin began. "I'd like to introduce you to some people!" And everyone looked at him, pausing in their gushing over Pixie to do so. "These fine people are Luke, Jared, Serena, and Billy," Dustin pointed at each respectively. "They managed to save Pixie and myself from a group of zombies down in a shopping center one place or another."
"The mall on the strip?" Lila asked, sounding honestly curious. "That's the one!" Came from a rather chipper sounding Serena.
Boy, I couldn't help but think, she's rather pretty, that one. And she
was
, with the prettiest black hair I'd ever seen. Eyes that just seemed to twinkle. Especially when they rested on wait. Why was she looking at Malachi like that? I felt my eyes widen at the thought that Serena might have a crush on the boy. It
was
entirely possible. Really it was if she knew him that was. Or she could simply have found him rather attractive, which I found far more convincing than the crush bit.
"It's nice to meet you Sere"
"Oh,
Malachi
!" And suddenly I didn't like her so much, the way she ignored me and threw herself at the young man. Oh yes. She definitely knew him. "I'm so glad you're okay! And you got them to the clinic safe too! I'm proud of you." Even Blaz raised an eyebrow at the dreamy sigh she let out, pushing her face into his neck. "So proud."
"Thanks..?" To my amusement, Malachi seemed a bit weirded out, if his cinched eyebrows, and wide eyes said anything. And, if they didn't, his gentle motion, pushing the girl away from him did. "It's good to see you too, Serena. Guess I'm flattered you were worried."
"Just," and eyelashes fluttered in an exceedingly girly way, "Flattered?" "Yes. Flattered. Why?"
"Malachi!" And the boy, who almost appeared to have red hair, grabbed Malachi's shoulder and patted his back. It was an incredibly friendly gesture that Malachi barely flinched away from. There seemed to be something making him nervous, and I decided to press him about it later.
Much
later. When the group wasn't around to pry, but in the meantime the other man was talking again, "Damn good to see you made it! Glad you got your friends back, you were quite worried."
"Aww.." I simply couldn't help it. "You were
worried
about us?"
"That's Excel," Malachi said, glaring a bit at me. "The one I should have left behind."
"Could'a, should'a, would'a, but you didn't," and I really couldn't stop the grin. "You know you're happy that I'm hear, so shut up man." "Yeah, you keep believing that."
"Well," and I could swear Serena glared at me. "Why were you sitting on this.. Excel?" "Back's wounded."
"How bad?"
"Apparently, meat cleaver bad," was what I snapped, not liking the way she said my name. "Come on, we'll take care of you."
"Sorry kid, I don't need to be taken care of."
"Not what the blood coming through your shirt says." "Well tell the blood it can"
"Come
on
!" "Whoa!"
And I was being pulled into one room or another by the oldest man of the new group joining us that one man named "Billy." I found it kind of amusing he was named so, but didn't express it as I was practically pushed onto the floor. The man was surprisingly strong for one so old looking and I couldn't help but be a little intimidated. Not that I'd admit such a thing. I supported myself on my elbows a bit, noting that the entire group, old and new, and followed into the room, and the old man was lifting up the back of my shirt.
"Meat cleaver is right." Jesus, how bad
was
it?!
"Come
on
guys," I groaned, as I dropped back down to my face down position. It was kind of embarrassing for them to keep going on about me, not knowing what exactly they were going on about. I'd never seen a meat cleaver go at
anything
outside of horror movies, and by now I'm sure we all know exactly how trustworthy Hollywood is. "Stop exaggerating. It does
not
look like someone came at me with a meat cleaver."
"Actually, Excel, ye don't know the 'alf of it."
And that wasn't nearly as reassuring as the man may have thought it was. "Yeah, well, can you guys fix me up, or not?"
There was some murmuring, and some chuckling, before a hand extended to be shaken. I didn't know why a hand needed to be shaken, but if the old guy was going to fix me up, I wasn't going to argue. I extended my own hand, and shook his, if rather confused. The moment I pulled back my pants were lowered slightly and I was promptly stuck with something. Right in my rump. The string of curse words that flew from my mouth actually brought color to Blaz's face, and Malachi burst into laughter right as I saw Serena smirk. I had a rapidly growing dislike for the girl, but refused to say so directly. Instead, I wanted to go for something subtle.
"Wipe that smile from your face brat." Yay for subtly.
"I'm not the one about to be out cold." "What?"
But my eyes
were
growing heavy, and I wanted to know what she knew, that I didn't. What had the man stuck me with? Why was it making me tired? What was he going to do that was so terrible I needed to be asleep during it? I'd had gravel and stuff picked from wounds before, I wasn't so sure I needed to be passed out for such a task, even if said gravel was in a little deeper than usual.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
My ears began working long before my eyes ever opened as it seemed. There might have been someone crying, but I wasn't entirely sure because my head felt like it was filled with lint. My mouth felt like it was filled with lint as well, so I just laid there for a long moment, trying to regain myself. I didn't know where I was, or why I was there. I just knew that there was a progressively growing pain all along my back, and yes there
was
someone crying. I just wasn't sure who, or where. Was my brother crying? I couldn't be sure, because my brother didn't cry often. It wasn't a noise I'd memorized, because it wasn't worth memorizing. Maybe he was crying because I got hurt.
Yeah.
Oh shit, he must have hurt me. My brother must have done something stupid, that hurt me, and that was why he was crying. Mom and dad were going to be so pissed at him, I knew. He knew. That was probably the reason he was so upset, more than anything else. Unless I'd really gotten hurt this time. What was the last thing I remembered? Hmm. The last thing I remember was some chick smiling at me like she was so much better than I was. I'd been on the floor when she was smiling. She was bigger than me. Older than me. Was the big kid smiling because I'd fallen down? Because I'd gotten pushed down?
Maybe.
I didn't know.
I opened my mouth to tell my brother to calm down. I tried to tell him there was nothing to cry about, because I'd tell mom and dad it was my own fault I got hurt. I wouldn't get him in trouble. I really
didn't
want to get him in trouble, because he covered for me more often than not. When something broke, when something was misplaced (or missing altogether.) It was my turn to protect him and his sorry ass for once, but of course I wouldn't say it like that. Because if my parents heard me talking like that we'd both be in trouble and there'd be no protecting him.
"Ddon't cry," was all I got out before I realized that my tongue must have been swollen or something. Maybe I'd bitten it. It just hurt to talk. Everything hurt, but I tried to move a hand toward the crying boy anyway. He was a boy. He had to have been a boy, it didn't sound like a girl at all. One can tell when ones own kind is crying, and it was definitely a boy crying. Which meant it was my brother, because no one other than him would cry for me. Parents don't cry, so they don't count. "Dodon't cry, bro."