Denver Dogs

Chapter 4: Angel's Boneyard

Her body felt heavy. Her bones were lead. The alley around her was spinning. She felt like the world was closing in on her and trapping her, yet everything seemed distant. Her heart was beating faster than it ever had before. It hurt like hell. It felt like her veins were trying to kill her. She knew it would kill her, but she thought it would hurt less than this. Her chest was tightening. It felt like her heart was trying to claw its way out of her body. The alley around her was falling in on her, and then it all went black.

Adrianne woke up to a repetitive beeping. She hurt like hell. Her heart ached and she felt that gravity was pinning her to the ground. Or well, bed? It was soft. She tried to open her eyes. Her eyelids felt like lead, but she opened them still. She knew the worn out tiled ceiling well. She was in the Follower of the Apocalypse's University Hospital.

"Oh. You're awake. Welcome back." a sarcastic voice said. She recognized it without needing to look. Dionne. The closest to a friend Adrianne had. They knew each other well from all the times Adrianne had ended up in here, usually for the same reason as today. She tried to turn to face them, but the slightest movement hurt like hell.

"Fuck... my heart..."

"Quit moving. It'll hurt more if you get your blood pumping. You should know this by now."

"Ow... how'd y'all even find me?"

"Some scav living nearby saw you and called us up."

"Fuck... I thought that place was abandoned."

"You seem upset to be saved?"

"I- yeah. Sorta."

"Did you see that therapist like I said?"

"..."

"Answer the question, Wendel."

"Stop calling me by my last name. It's weird. And too professional."

"I'm a doctor, I'm supposed to be professional."

"Well I',m not. So shut up."

"Fine. Answer the question, Adrianne."

"... No."

"Why not?"

"I don't have the money for that."

"I told you, it's free."

"I... shut the hell up."

"Something tells me this wasn't an accident this time."

"Uh... not exactly..."

"Goddamn it... You need therapy, Adrianne. Our services are free."

"I... I don't wanna..."

Dionne let out a long sigh. "Jesus... I just want to help you, Adrianne.:

"... Why?"

"What do you mean why?"

"Why do you want to help me?"

"I'm a doctor. Why would I join the Followers if I didn't want to help people. Plus I care about you, Adrianne. And I'm worried about you."

"That makes one of us."

"Lord... you really need therapy."
"..."

Adrianne went back to sleep fairly soon after that.

Adrianne woke up a few hours later. She still hurt like hell, but not so much she couldn't move. Dionne didn't want her to leave yet, but she managed to talk them into letting them go by saying she'd make an appointment with a psychiatrist. She got off the hospital gown they put her in and put on the only set of clothes she owned. A worn out beige NCR army fatigues and a patched together black denim jacket, the same colour as her black wolf cut, contrasting her horribly pale skin, despite living in the sunny desert most of her life. She put on her boots and left the hospital, still feeling half dead.