The Winchester Code

Chapter 4 - Zaviana Geller

Zaviana Geller

Chapter 4

“I – I ah…” I stammered. My heart was pumping hard and I couldn’t slow my breathing. Each breath felt like fire scorching my throat and lungs. I couldn’t think straight and I was trying hard to focus on not crying.
I put my hands in front of me, trying to clear my head, but the red stains of bloody cuts and the welts from the burns just made it worse
“Dean.” I heard Sam say. I squeezed my eyes shut and covered my ears with my hands again.
A bad dream. I begged. Please jest be a bad dream! I didn’t kill anyone. My family isn’t dead. Flashes and thoughts swirled around in my mind. The darkness behind my eyes had consumed my thoughts and I could feel tears spilling down my cheeks. I could hardly hear Sam and Dean arguing, but I was vaguely that I had curled into the foetal position, despite the burns on my legs screaming for me to uncoil.
“Hey.” I heard one of the boys say. “Hey. Hey, look at me.”
I felt him place his hands on my shoulders, but I didn’t open my eyes. I tried to focus on his hands, but my mind screamed ‘no!’
“Come on, look at me. Open your eyes.” I shook my head slightly. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
I struggled to focus on his voice.
“There we go.” He said as I slowly opened my eyes. I found myself staring into the earthy colours of Sam’s gaze. I felt my heart rate slowing as I deliberately used the strong features of his face as an anchor.
“Are you ok?” He asked when I was no longer hyperventilating. I didn’t say anything. Of course I wasn’t fucking ok!
“Ah, Sammy,” Dean said. I watched as Sam turned from me to him, his hands still on my shoulders. I saw Dean pointing and watched as Sam followed his finger.
“Oh god.” He gushed. I felt my heart begin to race again. “Your foot.”
“It’s not that bad.” I lied.
“It’s going to need stitches.”
“What?” I asked, my heart racing even faster. The thought of needles made me want to hide again.
“We’ll take you to a hospital.” Dean said. “Is there anyone we can call?”
“No.” I answered sadly.
“Can I have my jacket back?” He asks, a bit impatiently.
“Yeah.” I say slowly. I placed my hands against the brick wall behind me and used it to help myself up. Sam under one arm, helping as a support as well.
I leaned against the wall and shrugged the heavy jacket off my shoulders, catching it as it fell off my arms.
Dean grabbed it from my hands and dug into the pockets.
“It’s still there.” I told him. He looked at me sceptically, but his face relaxed as his hand clasped the blade. I pushed myself off the wall, the adrenalin replaced by an agonising tiredness that made my muscles scream louden than before and my torn skin crawled. I hobbled along, beginning to feel light headed.
“That man,” Sam asked, walking slowly beside me. “Bread. You killed him with that knife?”
I stopped walking. The question was too casual coming out of his mouth. I shook my head, my eyes filling with tears as I remembered the sound and the way lightning seemed to storm through his body.
“Hey, hey, it’s alright.”
“No!” I screamed. “It’s not alright! I killed someone! My family is dead! My sister is dead! All of them are fucking dead! None of this is ‘alright’! I don’t even know you!”
Sam and Dean stared at me. I could feel my knees beginning to buckle under their gaze.
“It’s you.” Sam eventually said. “Dean, it’s her!”
Dean looked dumbfounded like his cat just returned home after being missing for years.
“Ah… Zai, right?” Sam asks me.
“Yeah. Zaviana.”
“I’m Sam, this is Dean. I thought you looked familiar!”
“Ah, Sammy.” Dean cautioned. Sam turned to him, a smile splashed across his face. Dean nodded towards me and I looked down, wondering what he was talking about. Blood had pooled around my feet and my hands were shaking. I wiped them unsteadily on my legs, missing my pyjama shorts and running my sweaty palms along my scorched skin.
“Alright Zai, we’re taking you to a hospital.”
I nodded, unable to object. I told my feet to move, willing them forwards, but they refused to budge.
Don’t stop. I beg. Not again.
I looked at my hands shaking in front of me. I demanded them to move, but they reject the order.
Before I’d realised that I was even falling, Sam had grabbed my arm and was helping keep me upright. Dean rushed over and grabbed my other arm and together they practically dragged me to the car.
“You still with us?” Dean asked as they helped me in the Impala.
“Yeah.” I slurred, my words not forming properly.
Somehow, they got me in the back seat. Before I knew it, we were driving away.
“Sorry.” I mumbled, trying to keep my head clear. “Sorry.”
I heard one of the men ask ‘for what?’ but I couldn’t answer. I just kept mumbling ‘sorry’, trying to apologise for the massive inconvenience I was to them.

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“How is she Sam?” My brother asked me, an edge of panic in his voice. Zaviana had stopped responding to us a while ago and her ‘sorry’s had ceased. I looked at the dash. Dean was speeding down the open road, trying to get to the next town as quickly as possible.
I looked over my shoulder. The girls head was rolling on her shoulders. I reached for her hand to check her pulse.
Cuts, burns and bruises littered her arms. I gently pressed my fingers to her wrist. Her pulse was rapid and weak.
“We can’t save everyone.” Dean had told me earlier. The feeling of guilt rushed back to me.
“She’s fighting, Dean.” I reply, “But we need to get her to the hospital now!”
“We’re almost there. A couple more minutes.”
I look back to the girl. Her brown hair has been singed in places and her clothes have been burnt through in spots, revealing reed marks from the flames of the house fire.
“You know we won’t be able to stay, right?”
“What?” I asked. I looked back at my brother. He turned to meet my eye. “The incident in Ohio, they’ll call the police. They’ll want answers.”
“We can’t just leave her!” I object.
“We’re going to have to!”
I looked out the window. I could see the light of a town in the distance. The small town we had come from had little more than a gas station, a motel and a diner.
Dean slowed down a little as we neared the town – not enough to be going to speed limit – but enough to be able to read which signs pointed to the hospital.
I looked back at Zaviana.
Her eyes fluttered open and I reached for her hand again. She looked at me and I squeezed it reassuringly. Her eyes were unfocused and her jaw went slack. Her hand dropped from mine and she started convulsing on the black leather seat, her eyes rolling up in her skull.
“She’s having a seizure!”
“We’re here!” Dean said as he sped around the corner into a parking lot. He pulled up right outside the hospital. Before he’d even fully stopped the car, I had jumped out and pulled the seat forward so I could reach our passenger. She stopped convulsing, so I gathered her towards me.
Dean rushed around to help me, but I waved him forwards.
I held her in my arms, supporting her head in the crook of my shoulder, her legs draped over one arm. I followed Dean into the hospital. I heard him call for help as I carried the girl through the glass doors.
A nurse rushed towards us.
“What happened?” She asked.
“She was in a fire.”
“She had a seizure.” We answered at the same time.
The nurse glanced at her, then back at us.
“Page the doctor on call!” She shouted. “We need a gurney!”
The on call room burst into action. People rushed around, pagers beeping, preparing a bed and IVs.
They rolled the gurney towards us and I gently placed the girl on it. Moments later she was swallowed by medical staff.
“Stay here.” One of the nurses instructed. I looked at Dean. He shrugged as a woman handed me a clipboard before racing after Zaviana as they rolled her away.
I look around the now empty on-call room.
I’m surprised that the cramped space fit us all in.
“You ready?” Dean asked. He turned towards the door. I looked down at the clipboard. It had a bunch of questions that I didn’t know the answer to. I grabbed the pen dangling on the string attached to the clip and scribbled out the one think I did know. Her name was Zaviana Geller.