All Rise

Chapter 3: Refuge

Get up.

Why do you insist on lying on the floor like that?

Get Up!

His body jerked back into consciousness, but he wasn't on the dirt anymore. Instead he was face down on the old carpet of his childhood home, familiar black shoes planted in the purple fabric in front of his face as he tilted his head up to face the grumpy looking ten year old with messy brown hair and striking red eyes.

"Ritz?" Jefery mumbled, this didn't feel real.

"Come on Jef! You do this every time you lose!" The kid, Ritz, huffed, tossing a controller at his head. "Why do you insist on giving up when you get hit once? Why not go down like a hero and fight for victory!"

Jefery glanced at the screen. Only static was up on the television behind him.

Cracking his eyes open, Jefery hauled himself up by his good arm. Everything was fuzzy and the black spots didn't help as he ignored the numbness in his arm that he figured was replacing the pain because of shock. It didn't matter, he had to pull himself together long enough to help get these people out of here. He coughed as he dragged himself up and pulled his gun back towards him. He didn't know how long he had been out, probably no more than a few seconds.

Shaking off the weird dream he had in that time, he attempted to stand up, but the sudden motion jerked his arm so painfully he had to bite his lip to keep from making a sound. The world was unfocused, but at the same time so clear as it felt like time froze around him. He lifted his gun, the scope useless to him since the bullet that tore across his arm ripped through the piece of metal to get to his arm. If he was going to die here, of which he was certain, he wouldn't lay down and take it.

Blindly, he hoisted up his gun pulled the trigger.

The next minute didn't feel real as he felt two calloused hands drag him back from the makeshift wall. He let his gun slip from his grasp as he listened to the ringing in his ears.

"Stay awake, those men are on our side. We're gonna get out of here."

Jefery didn't want to keep his eyes open, they were too dry and heavy for that. He didn't know who was talking, or who was on his side but Jefery supposed it didn't matter as he tipped his head back and looked up at the blurry shape that pulled him along. They had a chance now. So he let his eyes close, the sun burned the back of his eyelids as the sun decided to make a last entrance as he was pulled onto what felt like a tarp. "This is gonna sting." The person warned before the violent liquid burned over his shoulder.

Jefery shot up with a yell, everything suddenly hyper-focused with the sudden shock, but he couldn't tell if that was from the hydrogen peroxide Sam dumped on him, or the wound itself. "Lay back down, the rebels brought medicine and stuff so we could get patched up." Jefery nodded and slowly lowered himself back down, minding his shoulder. "Yeah so these guys are from the New York area, they've been travelling down through the states giving aid to soldiers of ours. They'll take us to a safe house-"

"How many?" Jefery grunted, "How many of us are left?"

Sam looked down, drowning in a dark guilt as he whispered, "Not many."

And the Shivs claim they are fixing the violence in the world? They had twisted morals, he knew that. He had been told by an escaped man, that man was Father Ritchson, a priest and Ritz's uncle, who lived through the detainment camps that people were taken in forcefully if they did not accept him, and separated into three groups. Those groups being Moderate, Severe, and Death List. Of course, the people never heard the real names until they had been placed into them. People in moderate were minor crimes like breaking into restricted areas or car theft.