The Messengers of Sanctuary

5 - Chicory

"WHAT?"

Chicory paused at the exclamation, "Um yeah? I have a cure, I'll go find this guy now."

River seemed confused, but when Chicory left the vicinity, he didn't stop her.

Instead, he followed her. "You're going outside the fence." he pointed out to her, as if making sure that Chicory had processed that information.

She nodded along, "Well yeah, I came from out there after all."

River sighed and sped up to walk beside her, "I'm not doubting your ability or anything, but usually humans don't act this way."

Chicory smiled as they exited the gate, stepping through the trodden-down snow. "Yeah, usually they don't. Thankfully I'm not limited to what the rest of my race does with their time, otherwise, I would likely have died of boredom." If the heartfire hadn't killed her of inactivity...

River snorted, but even though Chicory gave every indication that he could, he didn't turn around. Perhaps it was masculine honor or some such nonsense. "You know you're just going to slow me down, right?"

River didn't answer, instead following easily in her footsteps. If it weren't for that sparking pair of sunglasses, Chicory would have once more wondered if he had heartfire. "Why are you wearing those anyway?" She wondered aloud, now that she'd had time to think about it, none of the other sentries wore sunglasses. Perhaps they were prescription glasses?

River put a hand to his temple, where the glasses rested, but again he never answered making no other response besides the movement.

Chicory sighed and picked up the pace, easily sliding into her loping gait. Clearly, River didn't want to talk right now, she could respect that. Now that she thought about it, he was really stoic. Really hard to get a feel for. She'd only seen him break his composure once, and it was when he'd talked about the man who'd been infected. He'd seemed...helpless and angry.

Now he was back behind his mask.

Chicory continued onward.

It was somewhat of a surprise to her that she never had to slow down for him, River clearly got tired before she did, but he had a lot more endurance than she'd initially expected. He was tall and thin though. With the type of build that suggested he had very little muscle. So she was probably far from alone in that initial assumption.

River suddenly slowed down and Chicory followed suit, she looked around but she couldn't see anyone nearby.

River's voice was soft, soft enough that a regular person would probably have a hard time hearing him. "He's just off the road."

Chicory didn't ask how he knew that, if River was wrong then they would find out rather quickly. "Alright," Chicory said, probably softer than River had spoken, it was more like a weak affirmation than a word.

They stalked through the deep snow, heading toward the tree line.

They found him, huddled in a ball up on a steep ridge. There were plenty of ridges just like it around here, accentuating the land with their almost mountainous bearing.

The man wasn't the most exciting guy out there, if Chicory had been tasked to pick him out of a crowd, the only thing that would distinguish him was that his ears stuck out a bit more than normal.

When they approached him, Chicory immediately went to his side, examining the man on the ground, "is he-"

"No" River replied quickly, "he's fine, probably a mental ailment." he backed away slightly, wrinkling his nose. "But his wound might be infected with more than just the zombie virus."

Chicory frowned down at him, rummaging through her bag until she found the EPI pen that Kerry had insisted every Messenger bring on their routes. She checked it over, and it seemed-

Chicory stared at it for a long moment.

"What's wrong?"

Chicory shook the pen, looking through the clear side as she examined the contagious virus stored inside. It was... "Rusts. The stupid thing is spent!"

River blinked, "As in no longer functional?"

The blood inside the pen had lost its sheen, and it no longer seemed to be glowing. It was a simple unadorned light yellow. Chicory remembered the zombie that had bitten her, melting alive as her blood got inside it. This pen would do the same thing to the man in front of her, it had lost its potency.

Chicory nodded numbly, putting away the pen so she could bring it back to Sanctuary once she returned. It struck her that she'd been so busy avoiding Gabe that she'd never picked up a new dosage...

She let out a long breath, looking down at the dying man. He'd opened his eyes staring at the two of them with a hesitantly hopeful expression. "Can...can you save me?"

Chicory had already begun to clean her hands with a spare wipe, she sighed, "Do you have any open wounds? I need to get to your bloodstream."

River was looking at her curiously, but the infected man was already nodding. He pulled his coat off and then his shirt over his head, wincing as the wound below it twinged with the actions. The bandages that covered his upper arm were amateur, and as River had said, he likely had other infections besides the zombie virus.

Chicory examined the wound as the man removed his bandages, wincing with every movement. She wanted to take over the job herself, but she was busy recalling what Diane had said in the emergency class they'd had two years back on how to summon the chill.

"Find in yourself a strong desire to help, to protect, and to save. If you imagine a loved one in place of the infected person, it tends to help."

Chicory complied, pulling her knife out of its sheath with a deep breath, trying to calm her beating heart. She looked down at the infected man, crouching down to his level.

She used her sonder.

It was the sense and realization that every passerby, every human being and zombie and fired person that she'd ever seen. Each one of them had a life just as intricate and chaotic as her own. This man in front of her was no different. She remembered the dead zombie who'd drank her blood. She remembered the little grave and the chicory leaf.

If she saved this man, he would never know that fate, and the world would be a better place with his contributions to it.

"Next, you will begin to feel weak. The heartfire will resist this, your head will hurt and your thoughts will become clouded. You must fight to keep the chill."

Chicory felt it. She truly did. She felt the heat in her blood shifting as her mindset focused on the man. As she remembered the people she cared for and knew that this man had many of those as well.

Her thoughts slowed and a pounding in her skull began. She closed her eyes for better concentration. She had to help.

The chill appeared.

Chicory's eyes shot open, and she held onto it, gripping her knife in one hand "You want to live?" she asked, her voice shaking, "this will hurt a lot."

The man nodded vigorously and held his arm out.

"And remember to remove the contact once you lose the chill."

Chicory slashed her left palm open and pressed the bleeding cut to the messy bite wound on his arm. She saw her glowing blood enter him, a bright steady purple-blue with an oil-like sheen.

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Every vote helps Chicory to not forget a new EPI pen next time!