Survive

Cornered

Chapter Song: Fever Dream, 300 Original Motion Picture Soundtrack 

Air rushed into my lungs when I finally recovered from the wind being knocked out of me. The ache in my chest was reassuring because it meant that I was still alive. My vision was blurry as I looked around the wrecked room. Everything was sideways and the contents of the room were all shifted to one side. Cots, metal table trays, and cabinets were smashed up against the wall all around me. The ship had fallen over onto its side after the bomb that Klaus had detonated went off.

Craning my neck around to search for my lost pack, I saw it a few feet away hiding underneath a busted cot. I clambered to my feet unsteadily, vertigo crash over me like a wave. I was standing on the far wall where the exit to the hall would have been, but now the door was a gap separating me from my pack. I took a couple steps back and got a running start, leaping over the gap and landing on the other side with only a minor stumble.

"God which way's up?" I mumbled, confusion drowning out any reasonable thoughts. Attempting to recover from the dizziness plaguing my mind, I clambered over the wreckage until I was crouched in front of the cot. Reaching under the twisted mass of metal, my finger barely brushed over the strap of my pack before a hand grasped tightly onto mine. Rough nails dug into my flesh, causing me to grunt in pain as I attempted to wrench my hand out.

With my hand finally free, I got to my feet and hauled the broken cot away from whoever was underneath. I was afraid that it was Patrick or one of the other guys, but upon removing the blockage I simply stared blankly down at Klaus. The bottom half of his body was crushed beneath a heavy cabinet. It would have been survivable, if not for the jagged bit of metal protruding from his chest. I quickly snatched my pack and hefted it onto my shoulders, taking care not to get too close to the crazed man.

"D...Do not..." he stuttered, blood dribbling from his mouth.

"Shut up." I hissed, glaring down at him. He groaned loudly, the pain most likely excruciating.

"Tr...trust..." Klaus gasped, attempting to finish his sentence. All of my instincts were telling me to walk away and not listen to anything he said. But my curiosity got the better of me.

"Who shouldn't I trust?" I asked, cautiously crouching down next to the dying man. Klaus tried to speak, but blood was slowly filling his mouth, garbling his words. I reached over and moved his head to the side so the blood could drain from his mouth. "Who shouldn't I trust?" I asked again, waiting for some kind of response. But ever so slowly, the life drained away from his eyes. Leaving me to shake his still body angrily. "God damn it, who!?" I shouted, gripping at his filthy coat. But the dead man didn't reply. With a sigh, I let go of him and closed his glassy, vacant eyes; giving him at least some kind of respect in death.

"Lass!" I perked up at the familiar Irish lilt coming from the other side of the overturned room.

"Pat?" I called out, wobbly standing up and making my way over to the sound of Patrick's voice.

"Over here, I'm in a bad spot." he replied with a grunt. I skirted around the wreckage and found the Irishman trapped under the busted stairwell.

"Klaus is dead." I said as I cautiously stepped over more broken cots and cabinets.

"Well, that's just great." Patrick said sarcastically, "Now, would you kindly find a crowbar or something?"

I rolled my eyes at his reply but looked around quickly for something to help him out of the entrapment. Using a long bit of metal, I shoved one end under the broken stairs and used it as leverage to prop up the large wreck enough for Patrick to slip out. As he scrambled free and I let go of the makeshift lever, I was about to make a comment about saving his ass when the radio on my belt crackled to life.