Take Back the Night (a MCSM fanfic)

Chapter 1: Arrival

Run.

The stone beneath his feet was slick with the eternal rain, threatening to send him sliding toward the cliffs without warning at any moment.

Don't stop.  Don't look back.

A sea of infected scrabbled at the rocks behind him, slowly, surely coming after him, relentless, unwearying.

Whatever you do, don't stop.

He could see the beacon ahead of him, a faint glimmer through the pouring rain.  If he could just reach it before they reached him...

The slope steepened, and he scrambled at the slippery rocks, clawing, clinging as best he could, dragging himself forward on all fours now for fear of falling.  His heart pounded, his breath came in ragged gasps.  He shook violently with cold, soaked to the skin, his clothes, worn and muddy and ragged, offering increasingly little protection from the elements.

You're the only one left now-- the last hope.

His mind felt frozen, paralyzed, numb.  His thoughts were locked on sheer survival, but memories whirled at the fringes of his consciousness.  The cave, the horde...

They said there's a stronghold past these mountains-- a resistance.  I don't know if it's true, but if it is...

He shuddered harder, shaking his head, and clawed his way upwards.  He could hear the moans of the infected below him, and didn't dare look back.  Instead, he trained his eyes on the beacon.

Lightning flashed overhead, striking the peak and sending a cascade of small stones toward him.  He saw it coming, managing to dodge most of them, but one of the larger stones struck him in the side and he stifled a yelp of pain, nearly losing his grip from the shock of it.  Faltering, his momentum shaken, he slammed chest-first into the stone, and to his horror felt the glass bottle digging into him.  Quickly he forced himself up again, pausing to reach for his pocket.  Had it cracked?  He couldn't tell-- at least it hadn't shattered, but was it leaking?

You have to take this-- bring it to them.  If anyone can help you now, it's them.

Gasping, he forced himself on with further desperation-- if it was broken, he might have only seconds.  He could not risk losing the precious liquid the bottle contained-- he had to hurry.

Another flash illuminated the wall that reared suddenly up before him, and with a little yelp he skidded, pressing himself against it.  He could hear the infected behind him... quickly, he searched for an escape.  To the left?  A sheer drop.  To the right?  More cliffs, and... a gate?

With the last of his strength he surged toward it, pounding on it with all his might.  He shouted out, but his yells were torn away by a rush of wind.  The infected were coming... he was out of time...

Shaking, he pressed himself against the huge oak gate, clinging to it desperately as if it might save him somehow.  He could see the infected now, their bent forms lurching toward him as they topped the rise.  They were almost on him... he had nowhere to run...

You have to reach them... you're the only hope left.

He dragged himself to his feet, standing only by sheer will, drawing his sword and brandishing it toward them, keeping his back against the gate.  He felt himself wobbling, leaning hard against the wood just to stay upright, and his sword bobbed.  The infected groaned, empty eyes trained on him.

Suddenly he was falling.  Shouts echoed out around him, and he was dimly aware of his own voice amidst the din.  A loud creak filled the air, and strong arms gripped his shoulder.  Something dragged him backwards into a newly opened void where the gate had been, away from the approaching horde.  His sword dragged across the ground, but his fingers were locked around its hilt in a death grip.

The gate swung closed behind them, and he lay on the ground, panting.  Soldiers swarmed around them-- he could see them hovering over him, and he was dimly aware that they were asking him questions.  He moaned, unable to comprehend-- let alone answer-- and sank limply back, too exhausted to move.  The world whirled around him, and murmurings filled the air.  They bent over him, but they had swum out of focus.  The world was fading before his eyes.

Then, as his last fragments of awareness slipped away, a louder, vaguely familiar voice split the air.

"Let me through!  I know him!"

Sound became silence, and the world slipped away into darkness.  Yet as reality faded around him, he heard one last echo ringing out in his mind--

Find them, Lukas.  You're our last hope...