Torments Of The Damned

Chapter 2

Columbus' P.O.V

Wichita and I are scouting the highway for any supplies while Tallahassee and Little Rock clear the path for our Cadillac to get across. I am keeping an eye out for a Twinkie, peering in every car window and over the concrete highway railing every second or so. Tallahassee is upset with me that I made him sit in the backseat of the Cadillac. I was only trying to sit closer to Wichita. Maybe a Twinkie would make him not want to slap me? It's an unlikely thing to hope for, saying we've only come across one twinkie during our time traveling together... and it was expired. But a man can only hope for his continued and assured safety! My attention is pulled to Wichita, though. She's readying the shotgun that she brought from the car, and I hear the gun click as she hardens her gaze.

"Over there." Wichita points her gun, and I follow her line of sight to a figure limping towards us. Is it a girl? I think...? She's covered in blood, and it looks like she's in pain by the way she grimaces with every hobble. She could be a zombie- but I get the feeling she's something more... She has two visible stab wounds that are spilling unimaginable amounts of blood. I'm only a little bit horrified. Wichita takes no time at all trying to tell if she is or isn't undead, and instead aims the double barrel at the girl.

The injured stranger holds up a hand to us as if saying, "Please don't shoot." Or maybe i'm imagining this gesture - but a tinge of sorrow strikes me for the girl. "Please...Help M-me." The girl mutters out, and my eyes widen as I now know for sure she's not a zombie. Zombies can't talk.

"Wichita, wait!" I call out, and I manage to push the barrel of her shotgun away from the girl just as Wichita pulled the trigger. The gun is deafening so close to it, and the heat from the barrel makes me jump and rip my hand away. But it doesn't make me jump as much as when the shot from the bullet digs deep into the concrete, making the dusty chalk like debris spring up and ricochet all around us. I look back over to the girl, only to see her collapse. Did I not move it fast enough!? Did the shot hit her? 

My heart drops, and I run over to her without hesitation to go see how bad her wounds are, praying that we didn't just add more. I kneel next to her and pull her scoped rifle off her back, and set it to the side of her. She has a pretty bad bullet wound on her left shoulder. The impact has chunked so much skin off her shoulder that I'm surprised her limb is still attached... There’s a stab wound on the right side of her abdomen, what looks like another stab wound on the back of her right thigh, and her right eye is bleeding a lot.

"Columbus, what are you doing!?" Wichita snaps, particularly poisonous today, stomping over to me and peering over my shoulder at the girl, her shotgun still at the ready by her side. "That shot could have come back and hit us!"

"She's hurt. We have stuff that could help her!" I practically beg, looking up from the girl at a wide-eyed Wichita.

"No- NO!" Her eyes fill with the realization of what I'm asking. "We are not taking her in! She'll slow us down, get us killed, or worse." Wichita argues. I can't believe that Wichita doesn't want to help her. I look back down at the injured girl. Normally, I'd understand Wichita's side, but something in me makes me almost protective of this total stranger, I feel as though I have to help her.

"Please... Wichita! She's going to die if we don't help her very soon! I don't know about you, but I don't want the fact that I let a girl die when I had all of the supplies necessary to help her, swimming around in my consciousness!" I stand up with desperation. Wichita looks at me with a strange look. Irritated, she sighs.

"Fine. But only if Tallahassee and Little Rock agree." She finally lets up. Stepping back on her heel and looking up at the sky. "Fuck." She whispers to herself, loud enough for me to hear. Almost as if on cue, however, Tallahasse appears from further down the highway a less than pleased expression on his face.

"What in the god damn- I thought we agreed, no guns!?" He comes marching in, complaining. His eyes trained, dead set on Wichita. Somehow, knowing it was her that pulled the trigger, and now his gaze finds me. Wichita's eyes just widen in annoyance, and she gestures to me, who is still kneeling by this actively bleeding stranger while we all just casually converse. Wichita's annoyance beginning to affect my own gaze.

"This girl is dying! Tallahasse, help me carry her back to the Cadillac." I order urgently, already standing and attempting to get a good hold on her torso, fearing that if I were to lift her by her shoulder, she would lose an arm. Tallahasse stays put exactly where he is, just watching me struggle. I don't notice until I finally lift the stranger's upper half securely that Tallahasse has not grabbed her legs. I look behind me, now leaning over in an odd angle. "Tallahasse..?"

Tallahasse looks to Wichita and then back to me. "Did you shoot some survivor on the road?" He asks, his eyes on the woman still angrily carrying her gun. Wichita groans and looks him dead in the eyes.

"No!" She exclaims. "I didn't shoot her..." She trails off, her voice getting lower, "she was like that when we found her."

"But you shot-" Tallahasse continues to question, but I've had enough. I interrupt them both by standing much straighter, nearly picking up the injured woman all the way, her feet all that's dragging on the concrete still. I clear my throat loudly.

"Will you two, please! Just-.. This girl is dying! Please help me move her!" I half-yell, throughly upset with how little they both seem to value this girl's life. I hear a mumbly grunt from him as he approaches, something I can only assume is a sigh before he finally moves to grab the woman's feet. With the help of Tallahasse, we move her to the back of the van, Little Rock rushing over to us when we arrive with a bleeding stranger in our arms, and Wichita trailing behind us. No doubt marking her calendar on how long she has to wait to tell us this was a bad idea.

"Wooah! Is that what the shot was all about!? Why do you have a corpse?" Little Rock questions, her voice lightning fast.

"Please open the back of the car." Is all I reply with. Little Rock tries to question more but once we get closer and she realizes I'm making no attempts to explain, she rushes to open the back of the Cadillac, pushing all our stuff out of the way so there's a flat surface to place the woman.

Tallahasse and I heave the stranger into the van, and I follow her in quickly, looking through our stuff for the first aid kit and quick! Tallahassee just stands back once the stranger is inside. "Not a corpse," I hear him answer Little Rock behind me, but i'm too focused on worrying if we have enough gauze to both clean and cover this scale of a wound. I sigh, worried we might not have enough supplies to save this person in front of me.