Hunter and the Hunted (Septiplier)

~~ CHAPTER FOUR ~~

I couldn't keep a light going, just in case someone saw it, so I would just sit in the dark during the night hours and think, listening to the steady breathing of Sheba. I would let my thoughts take me where they wanted me to go most of the time, but tonight I kept trying to change the subject, because all I could think about was Mark. How was he alive? What actually happened that month in two-thousand and thirteen? Had they lied?

April ninth two-thousand and thirteen was a bitter day to recall, during a fight happening somewhere in Iraq. Mark had been sent over a few months prior. God knows why he felt like he needed to risk his life like that, but he was always being reckless and outgoing. On this day I was given word that Mark had in fact perished in a mass of gun fire. I didn't know what to do with myself after that, I went downhill, and fast. It took me a little while after the funeral to finally get back on my feet and live my life. I had mourned his death, and yet here he is. Every time I picture him in my mind I can still see that casket that held what? Bricks? Did his family bury bricks? Did they know he was alive?

I glance down when I smell the smoke. I see the faint glow of fire in the distance. Was he stupid? He should surely know that they're attracted to light as well. "Mark.." I grumble to myself sitting up. I didn't want to see him again, but I couldn't just let him die because of his own stupidity. The dead were more active after dark, I don't know if it's just because of the cold air but I have come across more in the dark than during the day in these woods. I heave myself into a standing position and look back towards the glow. Taking the rope in my hands I throw it out over the edge and then climb down landing in the leaf litter with a slight crunch. I duck and weave between trees and branches remaining unseen by anyone and anything, making my way to the place I expected Mark would be. I peer around a tree and see the small fire built up in the middle of a small clearing. The clearing would only be around six meters wide maybe seven, and smack bang in the middle was what I was looking for. I slip from the tree line and stand just in front of a large trunked tree keeping to the shadows. I am about to step forward but I am graced by a knife narrowly missing my head and sticking into the tree beside me. I don't make a sound and I don't move.

I follow the trail the knife must have taken with my eyes and look into the shadows in the far end of the clearing. I squint a little when I see something shining. I contemplate attacking; maybe this wasn't Mark after all. I breathe in harshly as a hand slaps over my mouth and pins me to the trunk, I grab their hand bending it back and twisting their arm in a way that pulled him out of the shadows and in front of me, I quickly twist his arm around his back holding it in such a way that I could break it if I wanted too. I then grab the knife and pull it free of the tree kicking him in the back of the knee propelling him forwards and onto his knees, and then I place the blade to his throat. He struggles a little but I don't give in. I lean down to his ear before whispering, "Too slow Mark."

I release him and kick him forward a little and he lets out a harsh breath stumbling back to his feet and spinning around. He straightens his flannel shirt and looks me up and down breathing heavily. "Fire lures them in Mark, are ye trying to kill yourself or are you just stupid?" I ask stabbing the knife back into the tree stepping towards him. "I know, and no, I got exactly what I wanted."He stated staring at me. Dammit, he used it to lure me in. How could I be this stupid? I could have been killed for all I know. "Well I'm here, what do you want?" I ask angrily. Mark takes in my words and the fact that he joined the army but I can still kick his arse. "Just, wanted to talk." He replied after a moment or two, "About?" I ask turning my full attention towards him. "What happened a few years ago." "Well Mark, why don't you let me tell you." I say, "About three years ago I attended a funeral, a funeral to acknowledge the death of Mark Edward Fischbach. He was a soldier in Iraq and my best friend. I mourned for years." I say earning a sad look. "Jack, I" He began, "I'm not finished," I say throwing him a glare, "He died and he will never come back." "I'm still here Jack, I can explain everything." He says with his eyes. "And another thing." I say before glancing towards the knife and pulling it from the tree, "About a year later, Jack died too."

Before he could say anything else I heard a noise from behind him, a low growling moan. "Shite!" I called seeing the large group of dead hurdling toward us. Mark turned and jumped back a little before grabbing a long stick from the ground not letting his eyes leave the group. He backed up standing by my side. "Well then, Jack," he spoke, "How are your fighting skills, hmm?" He asks and I scoff leaping from where I was standing knife in hand and beginning my attack. There had to be at least thirty, thirty against two, seems fair. I kick one down stabbing another in the head and then use the heel of my boot to crush the skull of the one that was now on the ground. Mark threw the stick like a spear lodging it firmly inside the head of one coming towards me and I killed another with a quick backward movement. I threw the knife at one, jabbing it directly in the eye before running over and ripping it back out seeing mark dislodging the stick from the one he had killed. I look towards the heard that seemed to have gotten bigger and I feel Mark grab my shoulder and pull me back a little. "Jack, we need to go now!" He yells. I look back to the group, he was right, we couldn't take them all down. "There are too many Jack, now!" He shouted again and I turned to face him. I nod and we take off into the woods. I motion for him to follow me and we sprint through the foliage towards my hold up. I hear a grunt and I turn to see that Mark had cut his arm against a branch he had run into. "Mark, let's go, now!" I call back to him as he tries to keep a steady pace whilst holding his arm. I find the rope a few meters away and I leap into the air grabbing it and pulling myself up as fast as I possibly could. I look down and see Mark watching me confused, he couldn't get up with his injury.

"Wait there!" I call down, he nods watching the heard progress closer and closer. I reach the top facing a barking Sheba and look to Mark as he stands at the foot of the suspended rope. "Mark!" I call down again, "Grab a hold!" He does as I say and I drag him up just as the dead reach him, I have him just out of their reach. I hear him let out the breath that he was obviously keeping in and I continue to pull him up. As he reaches the wooden planks nailed into place I grab his hand and I pull him up and over the ledge. Once he is firmly on his feet I kneel on the ground taking in deep breaths and wondering what I just got myself into.

I see Mark sit on the floor beside me and I look over to him still taking is as much air as I possibly could. "Thank you." He says watching me still. "No problem.' I lie, this was a problem, I had looked after myself for so long and now I would have to look after someone else too. I hated the feeling of someone else's life being in my hands, It just felt like a weight on my shoulders that I couldn't lift, no matter how strong I believed I was.

I feel Mark lie on his back looking up to the gap in the tarp where the sky was visible. I could feel him breathing he was so close to me. I look from his face to his arm where blood had made its presence known. "Let me fix that." I said nodding towards his arm and standing to retrieve something from the top draw. I pull out a small bent needle and some thread, a bandage, and some tape. "No, I think I'll live." He says shying away from the needle. "Mark it will get infected in the open and you will die, there is nothing I can do when that happens bar shoot you in the head so stop being a child and let me fix your friggen arm." I say sternly. I can't remember talking to Mark like this before, this was a first and I could tell by his sudden change in expression that it surprised him. I raised my eyebrows and he sighed nodding and looking away. I place my hand on his shoulder and he flinches. "What?" I ask kneeling closer to him. "Nothing..." He replies looking back o the needle and swallowing. "In the middle of a zombie apocalypse and you're afraid of needles." I chuckle threading the needle and looking at him. He gives me a small smile and I can feel a rumble emerge from his body as he chuckles along with me. I remember when I saw them back on the road whilst I was stitching him up. How did I not recognize him? Had it been that long?

Once I had finished with the stitches I wrap the bandage around them after washing them with water and I secure it with tape, giving him a light pat on the shoulder once I was done. He releases another held in breath and looks at my work. "What?" I ask again as he examined what I had done. "Oh nothing, it's just.." He trails off into thought, "Just what?" I ask causing him to snap back and look at me. "You've just changed, that's all. What happened when I left? Was I the one that went to war, or you?" I feel like I should laugh because it sounded like a joke, but the truth wasn't something to laugh about at all, and it makes my frown. Why did I show so many emotions around him? I was becoming weak and it had only been a few hours since I found out he was even alive. Mark gives me a suggestive look as if to say I should tell him, and for some reason I feel the same. I sigh and look at him sadly, before lifting the sleeves of my hooded jacket, earning a wide eyed look from Mark.