Aftermath

Chapter 6

I'm surrounded

That's all that registers as I turn, taking in the circle of people around me.

But they're not advancing, nor are they retreating. They just lay there, piles of corpses twice as tall as me on all sides. Some, the ones on the bottom, we're rotten, pale flesh peeling away to show the squishy meat beneath, covered in maggots.

I gag on the smell of stale blood, but begin climbing the bodies, uneasy when I glimpsed a face, or touched a hand. They seemed to turn towards me, white eyes and black mouths in full view, and I wanted to cry.

I was just reaching the top, my eyes peeking over the top, blinded by a bright orange sunset, purples and pinks streaked across the clouds, when my foot caught something.

Or rather, something caught my foot.

A cold hand encircled my ankle, nails digging into the soft flesh so deep it drew blood. I followed it up to a pale face, black eyeless sockets glaring holes into my skull.

I start, going for my knife to slice off the offending appendage.

Only to meet empty air.

I have no weapons on me, I have no clue where I am, and now I'm being attacked by corpses.

Strangely recognizable corpses.

And I realize why when it opens it's mouth, speaking in a horrible raspy voice as it drops me, sounding like death himself.

They were all people I'd killed, or failed to save, or people who, for some reason, found me worthy enough to die for.

'You killed me'

They spilled in now, rolling from their piles to attack me, overwhelming me quickly.

'You killed us'

I doubled over, the pain of being beaten by people with the strength of a million men pulling me down.

'You don't deserve the title savior'

They were right. What right had I, someone who had saved a few measly souls, to be compared to angels, heroes, true Saviors?

'Savior'

They said the title with contempt, making it sound like more of an insult than a compliment.

'Savior'

They hit harder with each word.

'Savior'

The words themselves though, they hit harder than any physical blows they could deal me.

'Savior'
'Savior'
"Savior!"
______________________

I jerk up, sheets clutched in white knuckles.

"Savior?"

My head snaps around, coming to a stop as Morgan registers, a soft smile on her features. I take in the tent I'm in, a small table and stool, the bed I'm in, and scattered medical equipment.

"Wh-?"
I cut myself off, clearing my throat to get rid of the gravel in my voice.
"Where am I? What happened?"

She smiled at me, and my breath caught.

"The villagers set up an infirmary tent when the actual infirmary was too full to take anymore patients. You were the last one found, so you got stuck in here. You were semi-conscious when you were taken in, and denied anyone who tried to offer their place in the building to you."

I was still confused. Why was I in here in the first place? Where is here? Who-?

I groan as it comes back to me. The meeting, the fire, the pain.

And the dream.

All the bodies, the corpses of people I killed. The piles of my victims.

I lean over the edge of the cot I'm on, take a breath, tears pricking my eyes as their faces flash in my mind, and I hurl.
__________________________

I stir as a voice speaks near me, murmuring comforting words to an unknown person.

Blinking, I slowly peel my eyes open, pain filling my body as I become coherent enough to register it. Hearing the voice again, I turn my head to the source.

A doctor, speaking softly to an ok woman, coughing, with blood staining her hand and handkerchief.

"I'm sorry, there just aren't anymore beds. I can get a few furs to make you more comfortable, but we're running out of room."

The woman nods, smiling weakly before going into another coughing fit, blood spraying across her hands and dripping onto the floor. That's what jolts me into action, slipping out of the cot and limping over to the woman.

I offer my arm, smiling softly and waving off the doctor, who was beginning to fuss.

"We just found another cot. It was in one of the storage rooms. Good timing, eh?"
She sags in obvious relief, and I grin slightly, hiding my limp as I help her over to the cot I was just in.

"Has it been used recently?"

I look at the covers, missed from my laying there, and fake a laugh.

"No, no, we just haven't pulled it out in a while, my apologies."
She sighs
"Thank goodness. I thought maybe you'd kicked someone out for me."

I laugh and shake my head, settling her into the cot comfortably before heading off to find her water and maybe some medicine.

I'm bombarded the moment I step out the door, nurses fussing over me while the doctor from before reprimands me about recovering and how I'm not gonna be able to if I keep offering my bed to people.

I shrug it off with a "whoops. I probably just need food. I'll go find some!" And force through the nurses to the cafeteria.

Ordering a water, 3 medicinal pills, and ordering 2 custom-made burgers, I make my way back to the woman's bedside.

Snatching a cup from a shelf as I pass it, I set down a burger and two pills on her nightstand, quickly followed by the cup, now filled with water.

I stay there for a few hours, savoring my burger, a rarity nowadays, and reading a magazine one of the nurses was kind enough to loan me.

I sigh, setting the magazine down halfway through, and look over at the woman. She was old, yes, but not in a bad way. Time and age hadn't affected her as they did most.

She had wrinkles but they were in all the right places, giving her crows feet and a kind smile. Her skin sagged only slightly, just enough to show her age, to gain the respect and acknowledgment of the citizens.

She was also the reason I was alive.

She just didn't know it.