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chapter nine

chapter nine
unedited
1065 words

After we rescued Bryce, Ryan, and Chilled, and took the supplies, we headed back to the cabin. On the way, they started making conversation. The first topic that came up was The New Order and Luke. It seemed that these three are the only ones who know about this group.

"First, how does The New Order have him, and who the hell are they?" Evan asked.

"Well, The New Order is a large group of people that, like their name states, are a group built on a new order. They have their own way of doing things, and it's not for everyone, I'll say that." Ryan replied.

"What does that mean, exactly?" Delirious asked.

"Their entire life is about feeding off of others. They're a big group that targets smaller ones and takes their stuff." Ryan replied.

"So, how did you all get tied up in that?" You asked curiously.

"They target people who have nowhere else to go, and make them members. After the apocalypse started, Bryce, Luke, Ryan and I found each other and we were trying to find everyone else. While we were on our way, we stumbled upon The New Order's camp. They offered us to be apart of their society, but we declined. They didn't like that answer and they came after us. We couldn't fight them, so we were caught. You know how Luke is, always trying to be the hero and all. Well they liked that about him, and took the rest of us to one of their encampments, that place we just came from. So, now we need to get him back." Chilled explained. As soon as he finished, we reached the cabin. 

"You mean that house was one of their encampments?" You asked, surprised you attacked people like that. You guess that the reason that woman didn't kill you on sight was because they saw an opportunity for you to be one of them. 

"Yeah, why? Did you know those people?" Bryce asked.

"No, it's just a long story." You replied as you walked inside the cabin. Brock must've heard you coming in, because footsteps largely rang through the halls and there he was with a gun. Once he saw you, he lowered the gun and replaced his angry face with a weak smile.

"You're back!" Brock exclaimed.

"Yeah, and you sure were ready for any intruders, weren't you?" Tyler smiled.

"That's a good thing. You should always keep your guard up." Delirious commented.

"Okay, Mr. Tactics." Marcel chuckled.

"Hey, don't judge me. I could outlive you with my survival facts any day." Delirious snickered.

"Fun fact..." Evan smirked.

"Oh, not that again." Tyler rolled his eyes. 

"ANYWAY..." Craig said loudly, making everyone else turn silent. "How's Nogla?"

"Good and bad news. Which do you want first?" Brock asked.

"Oh, not these. Okay, give us the good news." Evan said.

"Good news is, he's doing much better than he was." Brock replied.

"Bad news?" You asked. Brock exhaled silently.

"He's needs a certain antibiotic or...if he doesn't get it within the next couple days, I don't know how long he'll have left." Brock replied.

"What? Why does he need an antibiotic? I thought he was only shot." Craig stated.

"Well, he was, and he still needs to get that properly cleaned. But I don't know when, but somewhere along the line, he got the flu." Brock replied.

"What? When!?" Anthony asked, confusion, fear, and fury all visible in his voice.

"Like I said, I don't know when!" Brock replied, his voice getting higher. "All I know is that he will die without treatment!"

Brock yelled. Everyone went silent, not expecting Brock to yell like that. He was always the nice guy of the group, whenever he got angry, it would alarm the others. Brock immediately stopped, and un-clenched his previously clenched fist. He looked down, muttering a "sorry". Anthony sighed and walked over to Brock, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"It's going to be fine. We have stuff to clean the wound, and I'm sure we'll be able to find...whatever antibiotic he needs." Anthony told Brock soothingly.

"Here," Evan said, handing Brock peroxide and a clean rag. "(Y/N) can help you if you need it."

Brock looked at you, as if asking for approval. You've never actually cleaned wounds before, but you wanted to help. If there was anything you could do for Nogla, you would do it. You gave him a stern nod, to which he nodded back. He then motioned for you to follow him, which you did, of course. The two of you entered Nogla's room. Nogla wasn't moving, but laying silently on the small bed. You frowned at the very sight of it. Even though you knew he was doing better, it still hurt you to see him in this state. Brock frowned as well, and sat beside Nogla on the bed. 

"Hey, David, we got you some peroxide and painkillers." Brock spoke. In response, Nogla turned over with sleepy eyes. As soon as he saw you and Brock, he smiled widely and sat up in bed.

"Hey, (Y/N)." Nogla greeted. His voice was all over the place, almost as if he was drunk.

"Hey, Nogla. How're you doing?" You asked, your voice hardly above a whisper.

"Better now. You have painkillers?" He asked. You nodded. You grabbed the small orange capsule from your back pocket and showed Nogla. He smiled widely, reaching his hand out for them. You handed them to him and then grabbed a bottle of water from your pocket and handed it to him as well. He thanked you before popping out a few pills and shoved them in his mouth, and quickly gulping down water afterwards. After he swallowed it, Brock took the painkillers and water and set them on the dresser beside them.

"Alright, we're gonna need to see the wound. Do you need something to bite onto?" Brock asked, grabbing the peroxide from you. Nogla thought for a second before shaking his head. "You sure?" Brock asked.

"I'm sure. It couldn't hurt more than when you took the bullet out." Nogla replied as he uncovered himself and set the blankets beside him. He laid back down, allowing Brock to lift his hoodie just a little over his stomach so he could see the wound.