Never Heroes: Act I

Chapter 13

Never Heroes

Act I

XIII: Stars

Eventually they were back on their feet. With no destination in mind, they continued to follow the small river as it ran south and twisted to the east. The further they moved, the less structures they encountered. Asphalt roads faded to gravel, then dirt, and soon there was no road near the river at all. Farmland dominated their surroundings, which soon faded as brush grew denser and more trees populated the area. No matter how tired they got or how far from civilization they felt, they kept pressing forward.

Temperature dropped from a friendly warmth to a formidable chill as the sun fell and they drew closer to the mountains. Even as darkness cloaked them, they continued on for a few more hours, until fatigue and cold begged them to rest. Without jackets or blankets, they had no choice but to make a fire, which was possible only thanks to Emily's lighter. The wood had been soaked in springtime rains and provided more smoke than heat, but no one complained. Soon, all were stretched out near the fire, their eyes closed and awaiting sleep.

Except for Chip, that is. He stared into the fire with distant eyes as his friends around him sought elusive rest. It simply wasn't possible for him to dream of sleep in that moment. A pounding headache prevented him from relaxing, and he knew that the only way to cure that was a handful of opiates, which was rather unfortunate. Agonizing quakes rattled his body and cold sweat covered every inch of his skin. He knew all the drugs he'd binged out on the past week or so were going to hurt him when withdrawals kicked in, he just wasn't aware how mentally challenging the fight was.

Doug had warned him countless times, but always finished it with, "It's your life, dude. Do whatever you want." With that thought his vision left the fire and turned to his friend. Curled up in a ball as he attempted to keep warm, Doug looked rather pathetic and childish. They had been through a lot together the last few years; the hard times often were brought on by their own stupidity, but no one had stuck by Chip and Sarah's side as loyally as Doug had. Maybe it was because they had always seen each other as equals. There was respect in their friendship but never admiration.

Unlike with Walter, Chip thought as his eyes traveled to the next friend near the fire. Stiff as a board, Walter looked lifeless with his back to the fire. The injured shoulder was exposed and illuminated by the licking flames. Chip and Walter were brothers in a spiritual sense, this was never in doubt. Yet there was always a sense that Walter viewed Chip as a child or little brother, constantly berating him on his antics of life choices. Perhaps that was why they had seen less and less of each other over the years, until finally, Walter seemed to completely fade away. In true Walter fashion, however, he was the first at Chip's side when Sarah died.

For a moment he wondered how different life would have turned out if he never had them. Did they hold him back in some way, either from lack of encouragement or leading him astray? Had they been the only reason he'd made it this far; would life have been too difficult for him to face without them? He shook his head and rid those thoughts from his mind. It didn't matter now. Wondering about unknowns was a waste of time at this point. Although there was a strange sense of guilt that ate away at his gut when he saw them stuck in this predicament, he knew his role in the world was to keep them safe regardless.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips involuntarily. He was pretty bad at keeping people safe. Sarah was proof of that. No matter how much he tried to get through the grief with a smile, a joke, or a clumsy mistake to make people laugh, it was really tough. Just to keep his heart beating took all of his energy, and each fresh intake of air required his brain to process every muscle contraction needed to complete the task. The amount of effort just to walk drained him of any remaining stamina.

Something snatched his ankle. A glance down revealed Emily half-asleep, her eyes barely open. She'd twisted her body from the fire to face him. "You okay? Heard you sigh," she said, her voice barely audible.

"Yeah, I'm alright," he answered.

"You sure? You don't look good. Withdrawals?" she asked.

"Yeah," he mumbled as an answer. It was awkward to admit. Nothing was said from her in response. As her eyes slid back closed he thought she was ready to sleep again, but her hand stayed locked on his ankle. Absentmindedly, she started to gently rub her thumb against his skin. He said, "Sorry about before. Uh, about, you know? Kissing you and calling you Sarah. I was just... messed up. Mentally, emotionally... everything."

"Hm?" was her sleepy response. At first he thought she hadn't heard a word. Then, she opened her eyes and stared at him. His eyes were focused and intent on displaying his sincerity in his words. Red across his cheeks could have been from either being ill or his embarrassment over the situation. She said, "No, it's my bad. Let's just not talk about it. Jesus, I can't believe I did that with you of all people."

An awkward laugh emerged from his weakened body. He said, "Maybe we should apologize to Doug for seeing us?"

"He'll live," was her immediate, flat response. Her eyes closed again, but didn't stay that was for long. When he didn't make another sound of movement, she looked at him again. His eyes had turned upward; she followed his vision to the skies. Light from the countless stars shone back at them, illuminating the heavens. Although truly a beautiful sight to behold, it was nothing noteworthy in her mind. Chip felt her grip on his ankle disappear and he could hear her shift back toward the fire.

All Chip could think about was the first time he truly remembered taking in the stars.

As a hyperactive, imaginative fifteen year old, he never had found time for sightseeing. Craning his neck to look up seemed pointless. Whatever was up there would never have been worth the work. Exhausted, he wasn't even standing at the time, but rather had been seated on his butt with his eyes more interested in the dirt than the heavens.

It was unusually cold that summer, he remembered clearly. It was their second year taking on Interfector, and the battles were growing to a level of intensity that felt impossible to defeat. Covered in dirt, blood, and sweat, Chip wanted nothing more than to go home, take a shower, and sleep the rest of the week away. People counted on him to be resilient, however. Even when the weight of his weapon tore at every muscle in his body he held it strong. This moment of downtime was welcomed silently.

Around him, his friends had yet to say a word. Their thoughts were on Doug, as he had just taken an arrow to the heart. Forced to retreat, they hadn't recovered his body yet. Emily's wound was severe; it was possible she wouldn't be available for the next wave of enemies. Walter was distant, having situated himself far from the group, a fresh bandage on his face where a weapon had cut his brow. And then there was...

"It's beautiful," Sarah's voice broke Chip from his thoughts. He looked to her, her adorable face brightened by the brilliant stars, amazement glowing in her soft eyes as they took in the wondrous heavens. Whatever she was looking at never would have matched the sight of her in Chip's mind, but he was curious so the first time in his life, he craned his neck and stared toward the dark horizon. It was alright, but looking at her was way more interesting to a hormonal fifteen year old. When his vision returned to her, he found her smiling at him, the entirety of the universe still reflected in her eyes.

Yeah, it was her that made him view the world more carefully. Not just the world, but existence as a whole. Questioning what life meant or what his purpose was in the world never mattered after that moment... To view the vast, unknown universe with the innocence of a child but the wisdom of a hero... To behold everything in one glance... It was in her soft, brown eyes that he could see everything that he could ever live for, fight for, and die for. Those same eyes, which reflected everything that could ever exist in one blink. Nothing compared to the love she presented for him; a love that could never be rivaled, equaled, or defeated no matter what evils existed in that crazy world.

Finally having exhausted himself in memories, Chip decided to lay down. As his body shivered in response to the aching withdrawal that conquered his physical body, he tried his best to get some sleep. There was no doubt in his mind that he was going to need it.

Emily could feel him shifting positions, until their backs were pressed against each other. At first, it irritated her, as every time his body rattled from his violent shivers it would in turn vibrate her core. Each labored breath from Chip was loud and clear. Instead of making the bitchy comment that scratched at her tongue, she remained silent and reminded herself of all that he'd been through. Marveling at his strength and perseverance helped ease her away from annoyance. Maybe, if she was lucky, they could get some sleep like the others.

The truth was, no one was actually asleep. Walter was battling with his own emotions; he tried to prevent himself from blaming everyone else for his injury and had to constantly remind himself that he didn't need to get himself involved. Everything was voluntary. Besides, in his mind it was better that he got shot rather than someone else. A sense of being lost invaded his psyche like he'd never felt before. He was the "plan guy;" no matter what task they had tackled, big or small, he was the one that had a map laid out. For the first time in his life, he had no idea what step to take next or who to turn to. These negative thoughts were constantly battling with his typically arrogant view on life.

Doug, on the other hand, wasn't wrestling with such complicated ideas. His thought process went something like: I'm freakin' hungry. It's cold out here. This is stupid. I have nothing to do with this. The hell is the matter with these guys, anyway? Yet he knew that no matter what they called him for, he'd find a way to be there. Suffering together with his friends wasn't exactly a good time in his mind, but it was better than sitting alone in safety knowing they were in danger.

Still, what the hell did he owe them, anyway? Chip was really the only one he was particularly close to. Walter constantly looked down on them, even if he tried to hide it. Emily had left ten years ago, and sightings of her in their home town became rarer than the Lock Ness Monster. So why was he so concerned about her, exactly? Jealousy still fired up in his gut when he thought about her and Chip, and he knew it was stupid and childish. Yeah, they were all adults, they could do whatever they wanted; but really, that maturity was only on the outside. All of them had an immature streak than ran deeper than any would admit. Except, maybe Doug himself.

"What fun is growing up, anyway?" he mumbled.

Apparently, it was loud enough for Walter to hear. He responded by saying, "It's not, Doug."

"Yeah, it sucks," Chip's strained voice called back.

"Can you assholes shut the f**k up? I'm trying to sleep," Emily complained.

"What's the point? We're just going to get snatched up by the police once they get serious about looking for us," Doug said.

No one said a word back. Walter wanted to confirm that but knew better; they needed to be optimistic. Still, if the government was serious about finding them, it would be over in a matter of minutes. It surprised him and certainly everyone else when Emily said, "You act like they would even stand a chance against us."

Doug wanted to give a witty retort but noise near the brush silenced him. Maybe he was paranoid but it sounded a lot like boots crunching through twigs and vines. Straining his eyes, he peered in the direction of the sound. Light from the fire reflected off of something. As the intruder grew closer, the shape of the object became clearer. It was a sheriff's deputy.

It was a brash, stupid move on Doug's part, which he admitted immediately after the fact - he drew a pistol he'd been hiding near his waistband and unloaded about half a dozen shots. The loud crack of repeated gunfire startled everyone and had them up and off the ground in a flash. There was no verbal command or suggestion, but all began running the opposite direction that Doug fired the weapon.

"What the f**k, asshole?!" Emily screamed as she tried to lead Chip through the thick brush. Walter was behind them, and at the rear was Doug, still glancing over his shoulder.

"It was instinct, sorry!" he yelled back.

"Why the hell do you have a gun, anyway?" Walter asked, his frustration evident.

"I'm a drug dealer! Of course I have a gun!" was Doug's explanation.

They reached a small clearing and Emily halted there with Chip. Walter followed her lead. Doug, clearly upset over his own actions, paced back and forth. Everyone's breathing was rather erratic but they tried to keep it down. Chip, now completely overcome with nausea, proceeded to empty what little contents his stomach held. As Emily tried to comfort him, Doug's mumbling curses to himself grew louder.

"Jesus, Doug, will you shut up?" Walter commanded.

"I just shot a cop, dude!" Doug said as he finally stopped pacing. The pistol was still in his hand, which trembled uncontrollably.

"You probably missed," Walter said. Whether it was meant to comfort him or be an insult was irrelevant, since Doug didn't hear it.

The last bit of vomit left Chip's mouth and he waved Emily off. Free from him, she turned to Doug, approached quickly, and decked him in the side of the head. It was a strong enough hit to knock him out. As his conscious abruptly left him, his body tensed; he pulled the trigger on his gun one more time.

The pop of the gun made everyone jump in fear, but Walter's immediate curse of, "f**k! Are you f*****g kidding me?!" prevented Emily from catching Doug has he hit the ground. Walter shook his hand ferociously, stopped to look at it, and then covered it with his good hand right away. Ready to throw a fit over his luck, Walter plopped onto the ground, shut his eyes, and tried every breathing exercise he had ever learned.

Chip, feeling useless, forced himself to make it to Doug's unconscious body. Slight movement from Doug meant he was about to come back around; Chip hurriedly snatched the weapon away from him and eased him into the sitting position.

Meanwhile, Emily went to tend to Walter. He didn't even try to protest when she pried his hand away from the wound he covered. His pinky finger was missing and a chunk of his hand had been torn away by the force of the bullet. The sight mixed with the adrenaline that pumped steadily throughout her body made her hands weak. It seemed as though her body failed to cooperate for a moment.

Digging through her bag she pulled out her first aid kit again. It took all the gauze and wrap she had to cover the wound's surface. Regardless of whether Walter wanted it, they needed to get him to a hospital. Unsure of where they were and unfamiliar with the area regardless, she had no idea if that was even possible.