fallen | ✓

Chapter 7: "Get Off My Roof"

Clara's POV

"Hello again," I said. I didn't even have to look up. I felt his presence. I tied to knot on the stack of wood, and got up, folding my arms. "What's your name again?" I asked, looking at his sheathed fire-axe.

"Zak. You?" His hand naturally moved over it, protectively. "Tsk." I managed to say, moving my own hand over my blade handle. "Tree Girl, Fruit Girl, Mystery Chick, Steampunk Weirdo. I have many nicknames. But you can call me Clara." I smirked, moving my hand back to my forearm.

"Hm." He nodded, going around back of Terminus, climbing on the roof, watching everything. I rolled my eyes, spotting Hazel and John. I decided to catch up. It's been two months since I left. A lot happened since then. I needed to catch up.

I paced over. "Hey," I said, waving. Hazel beamed at me and gave me a tight hug. John coughed, looking up at Zak. "What an idiot.." I sighed, glancing his way. "Zak sure is a kill-em-up kind of person, isn't he." I slowly grinned, looking back at the gate to the other warehouses.

In those two months, I had killed Meat Man and his other companions, taking this place as my own. It's been safe, and I scale everything every morning. Just for safety measures. Hazel pulled away, putting a pear in my palm. "You gotta eat something at some point." She said with sympathy. "We ate back at the prison before hiking up here."

"Vegetarians united," I sighed, sticking it in my mouth. After finishing, I waved them off, climbing on the roof with Zak. Idiots united. I thought, grinning. I slowly walked over silently, pondering on what I should do.

I rubbed the side of my face giving him a firm kick in the back, he screamed, falling forward, almost off the roof. He grabbed the edge, struggling, slapping his forearm on the roof, pulling himself up. "The hell was that for?" He glared. I shrugged and folded my arms. "I felt like it," I replied.

He growled at me, getting up, and kicking me to the ground. This was less than a gentle reminder that I was dealing with someone incredibly ignorant, yet bigger than me. He grabbed my hat, throwing it off the rooftop. I scowled, kicking him off, not caring if he was going to break anything. He landed hard on the ground, letting out a groan of pain.

I slowly got up, rubbing my head, getting down the safe way. I ran, grabbed my hat, and kneeled beside him. "Don't fuck with me," I growled, someone else approaching us. It wasn't John or Hazel. It was another survivor. He looked down at Zak with sympathy, then at me in anger.

"The hell is wrong with you?" He growled, clenching his fist. "She broke my fucking shoulder," Zak grumbled, slowly sitting up, wincing. 

"I felt like it," I shrugged again.

The man grumbled, slowly pulling Zak to his feet, Hazel naturally walked next to him, grabbing his other arm. Her face was blank but her eyes showed kindness and sympathy. They sat him down on some boards and Hazel got to work. She had everything needed for a broken shoulder, and damn did she work fast.

By a half hour or so, Zak could fully function his arms. Hazel started putting away her supplies and I walked over to her. She glanced up at me, flinching. She slowly frowned. "That wasn't very nice." Her voice was quiet and had a dash of sadness.

"Oh come on, Hazel," I whined, cracking my knuckles. "I haven't punched face in months. I needed that off my shoulders. Most on his." I cracked at my own joke. She slightly scowled, stuffing the herbs in her pack. I grabbed the bandages, handing them to her. She gave me a twitch of a smile and hiked her backpack on her back, walking towards Zak.

Hazel's POV

Zak is like a brother to me.

I can't stress enough over his safety, yet he still picks on people bigger and stronger than him. First the guy at the Prison, now Clara. Her height is deceiving I'll give her that. She's kicked his butt twice now. I almost have no sympathy for him anymore, but like I said, he's like a brother.

In this way, he still cares about me and helps me when I need favors in return, after saving his butt multiple times. Sometimes he acts like a mom and insists that he goes wherever I go, and all that.

I walked over to him. "How does it feel?" I peeped, prodding his shoulder lightly. I stopped immediately when he winced. "Still broken." He grabbed my wrist gently, guiding it away from his shoulder. "I'm sorry." I rubbed his bad case of bed-head.

"Aye." He swatted at my hands. "She's right you know.." I covered my laugh with a cough.

"Who?" He asked. 

"Clara," I replied. 

He stole a glance at me. "Why?" I hesitated before giggling.

"You do have a bad case of bed-head."

I started snorting a laugh as he started yelling at me. He swatted at me, biting out a growl through his teeth. A hint of a smile crossed his face as he shoved me and leaned against one of the barrels.

"But seriously though, need any painkillers?" I asked, gripping the strap of my backpack. He shook his head and I frowned slightly. "Sometimes you try to act tough. But deep down you need help." I said. He cleared his throat and squirmed a bit. I grabbed a couple painkillers from my backpack.

He shook his head and I forced them into his palm. He may win a physical fight, but he knows I always win the verbal ones. He sighed and pushed his hair out of his face, popping them in his mouth.

He stood there motionless for a few seconds, then I suddenly scowled at him. "Swallow," I demanded.

He cleared his throat and did as I told, obediently. I smiled and he gave me a twitch of a smile in return. "Thank you."

"Mhm." He grabbed his shoulder, dealing a small cracking noise on contact. I cringed a bit, shaking it off. He let out a little moan and cleared his throat, rolling it back. "Ouch," He rubbed his nose on his sleeve.

"You coming down with something?" I asked, staring him down. "Maybe. Not sure." He breathed, scrubbing the side of his head with his nails. "Don't give me any medicine. I'm fine." He grumbled, coughing again.

"Next thing we know, you will cough it up on me and then I'll be sick."

"I don't want that," He mumbled slowly.

"I know you don't," I replied. "And neither do I."