Liberation (Remnants of Men)

Chapter 6: With Friends Like This

“Hold it…hold it tight, put pressure,”

The voice was faint and desperate. Runner opened his eyes. He could barely see a thing, only the shadows of people moving in the light. All he could hear was that same voice repeating the same words. At first, he thought he was dead and was in that place of abundant milk and honey where Reverend Malachi has always referenced to give the poor folks hope in the Cathedral at Rat town.

But if indeed it was Paradise, then why does he feel a stabbing pain at his abdomen. Why does the whole place smell of blood and gangrene?

“Put more pressure,” the voice came again.

Runner turned to his right and a sharp pain stung at his side. The vagueness began to fade. It felt like a veil has been lifted from his sight and he saw someone familiar on a table surrounded by a woman and two men. There was blood everywhere.

“Rhiannon!” Runner screamed and jumped off his bed, ignoring the pain.

He pushed through the woman and her help, grabbing his friend’s shoulder and shaking her to wake. Rhiannon was as still as a log, her face pale and her garb soaked in red blood. One of the men grabbed Runner and pulled him back.

“Why is she not waking?” Runner’s face grew sullen as if he was going to cry, but tears would not fall.

“Help her,” he said, “please, help her.”

The men handed him to two Rangers from Section 5 and they dragged him out as he kicked and screamed, “Help her!”

Runner rammed his knee on one of the Ranger’s groin and escaped the grasp of the other. He surged into the tent, so concentrated on his friend that he had failed to see that there were hundreds of slum dwellers writhing in pain on makeshift hospital beds.

He halted, masked in utter silence as he watched the nurse cover Rhiannon with a white cloth. He couldn’t feel anything. All his senses had gone numb. Blood trickled from his wound and soaked his white vest.

The Rangers came back, pointing their stun guns at him.

“It is okay, let him go. I will take care of him, let him go,” a voice said, but Runner did not care to see who it was.

He was led to a bed and he sat down, making no attempt to be aware of his surroundings. The next that came was a flash of light on his eyes.

“Pupil dilations, normal,” the voice said again.

Runner opened his mind to the world and everything rushed in with an overwhelming force. The moans of patients in pain, the racket of folks arguing with the Rangers, buzzing sounds of electric generators, all were like a jumble of memories invading his mind. He felt a sting at his side and looked down to see the nurse stitching his wounds.

“Hi,” she said while making her stitches, “I’m Dr Lysander from the Citadel of Healing.”

Immediately, Runner recognized the name. Everyone knew Dr Lysander headed the Citadel of Healing, not that they cared anyway but even so, she could not be denied the influential figure of being one of the Councillors in the governmental hierarchy of MegacityOne.  

“What happened?” Runner asked with a husky voice.

“A bomb blast from MegacityOne caused a series of chain reaction that got to Rat town. The rebel, Death-Throe, was responsible for it.”

Death-Throe, the name sounded in Runner’s mind. He has always respected the rebel and saw him as a heroic figure to the dwellers of the ten slum colonies. Now, the name stirred anger in him. It made his tongue bitter like ash and his mind filled with hatred for all things.