Wither With Me

CHAPTER 25 - RESENTMENT

Her eyelids were heavy. She was tired, both physically and emotionally. She just wanted to let go and rest, but some kind of ruckus in her close vicinity stimulated her senses enough to prevent her from returning to unconsciousness.

"...at's eno...!!"

"...iece of sh...!"

"...iam, sto... eady...!!"

Her head hurt. She knew they had recently gotten out of a complicated situation, but she had issues remembering the full extent of it. She forced her eyes open, and waited for the blurriness to go away.

Nora saw herself resting on what seemed to be a sofa, in a living room. A deep orange sky was visible through the windows on the opposite side. It was about to get dark. The thought made her inner self shudder, but her body didn't showcase any physical reaction.

There were more people in the room with her. Claire was on her left, sitting on the sofa with her and holding her hand. She looked freaked out by something. Nora dragged her vision around, until she spotted William. Desmond was right in front of him, on the floor, with a bloody nose. William was pointing a gun at his head. He looked angry.

There was also another man she barely recognized. Long brown hair, cunning eyes, with his arms crossed and witnessing the scene from a corner. She did the same thing, she watched. She didn't have the strength to do much more.

The ongoing argument became coherent and decipherable as her consciousness gradually came back to her.

"Give me one reason, motherfucker. One single reason to not splatter your fucking brains across the wall right now." said William, in a threatening tone.

"There's still shamblers in the area! You'll put us all in danger if you shoot now!" Claire tried to reason with him.

"The girl is right, you know?" added the man on the corner.

"Shut up... Especially you, Marcus! Don't tell me what to do! I haven't even started with you yet..."

"...p-please... I'll explain everything, Will... Please... I c-can't deal with this anymore..." Desmond curled himself into a ball on the floor and started sobbing.

William wasn't too impressed by his reaction. The gun moved even closer to his forehead.

"Why? Just... why!?"

"Before I joined you guys months ago, I was with someone else... J-Jacobs..."

"Jacobs...!? The hell...?" William looked at Marcus with an inquisitive expression on his face.

"I... know nothing about this... Months ago... This might have happened before I arrived at the shelter..." he answered.

William faced Desmond again. "Go on..."

######

"Those bastards are growing quite quickly, aren't they...?"

Jacobs fidgeted with a pocket knife, sitting on a ruined couch in a corner of the room. Everyone else watched in silence. They knew it wouldn't be a good idea to open their mouths, unless they had a very good reason to do so.

Desmond wasn't too sure why had he been called to that "meeting". They had never arranged a meeting before. Everyone minded their own business, grabbing whatever food and drink Jacobs and his goons left behind, while staying out of trouble.

Why him, of all people? He analyzed the rest of the men in the room with him. None of them were trustworthy. Mostly thugs and delinquents, gathered under Jacobs' flag. And Jacobs himself was the worst of the bunch. A far as Desmond knew, he was convict that somehow managed to escape after the start of the pandemic.