The Repeated History of the Heroes

The Past Tense

  His vision was the first thing to go.  Nathan couldn't see.  Around him everything was filled with chaos, hands grabbing him and yelling.  Zoe's voice was intense, demanding, "Where is it?  Where are you hurt?"  His eyes were dry, he couldn't see, but they were wide open.  Two black voids.  

  Hands.  Someone hauled his body upright, stripped his jacket, knives clattered to the floor.  Sam was talking and something let him focus on that, "It was a snake and it had silver scales."  He took a big shaking breath, "Th- they shot out and he said he was okay.  He promised."

  Anna was the next person he heard, assessing the damage.  "Sam, step back and calm down."  

  He didn't want him to leave his side, didn't want his voice to not fill his ears.  Nathan reached blindly in the direction of Sam's voice, a trembling hand gripped his, "I'm right here," Sam whispered.

  "Nevermind," Anna's fingers brushed his forehead, "He has a fever."

  A strong hand ran down his calf and poked, a stinging pain went through his leg, "Found it."  Issac unsheathed several knives strapped to his leg and started to roll up his pant leg, he seemed to give up with the fabric and cut it off below the knee.  "Sorry," he murmured.

  "Gods," Zoe's voice was on the verge of breaking, "Poison?"

  "He saved me," Sam swallowed audibly, "And I didn't even know."

  "Neither did he," Z knew, she got it, she always understood.  "Adrenaline could have spared him the pain, a lot was going on."  His leg was numb, he knew that, he couldn't feel Anna's hands on him, but he knew they were there.  People came into view, blurry but they were there, and wild.  "Hey," Zoe's face became clear, "Anything hurt?"

  Speaking was impossible, everything was heavy but he shook his head.

  "Good," she ran a hand through his hair, "Can't talk?"

  He shook his head again.

  "That's alright," her skin was flushed under the grim, "Everything's gonna be okay."  Her words were softer than ever, he'd never heard her sound like this.  

  He opened his mouth to speak, it tasted coppery and dry.  "I'm tired," it all came out slower than he intended, he didn't sound like himself anymore.

  Zoe looked like she might cry, "I know, I am too."

  "You look like death- feel like death."  That was the truth, she looked like death, but everything felt like it.  Cold and certain.

  "So do you," she grabbed the hand Sam wasn't holding with a reassuring squeeze.  "It's okay," she was talking more to herself then.  She's scared, he realized.  His best friend was holding his hand and terrified- terrified for his life.  

  A fist of fear clutched his heart, one similar to the soft and demanding caress of death.  So similar, that he wasn't entirely sure what the dread he felt was.  

---

  This was worse than fearing for her own life.  Dread filled her veins and it was heavy, dragging Zoe down into a land of no light.  Nathan's hand was barely holding her's, his dark eyes were vacant, and darting overwhelmed by the chaos of everyone around her.  

  She knew she looked bad, but Nathan looked worse.  His skin was white as a ghost.  The wound on his leg was small, but the poison spread visibly in black swirls covering his lower leg.  Feel like death, he told her she felt like death, she knew he hated that feeling.  

  Blood soaked Anna's hands, her knuckles were glowing, she bit her quivering lip.  "I'm having trouble identifying the poison," she admitted, "Does anyone know of a poison like this?"