Never Heroes: Act I

Chapter 12

Never Heroes

Act I

XII: Wounds

Emily woke with a start. She slammed her head against something due to her sudden spaz and hissed, "f**k!" as she touched where contact was made. Slowly her vision returned to normal, and she found herself underneath a coffee table. As her ears adjusted to her surroundings, she could hear a clock ticking and what was no doubt Chip snoring. Carefully, she eased her sore body out from under the table and into the open.

Staring back at her in confusion and concern were Walter and Doug. Both of them rested at the table near the kitchen, and both of them looked like they had one hell of a hangover. A glance at the couch revealed Chip passed out, barely still on the furniture. Once more she touched her forehead where bruise was probably forming. Smacking the table had really done some damage, if the small amount of blood on her fingers was any indication.

"The sleeping beauty greets us with her heavenly presence," Doug's voice broke through the silence. Something about the line seemed oddly familiar, but she didn't comment on it. Instead, she got up, checked her balance, and made her way to the table. The beer that rested next to Doug was swiped and she started to chug it down. His protest of, "Hey!" went unheard.

As the last bit was finished off, she slammed the bottle on the table and wiped away the few droplets that had dripped to her chin. "Guys, I just had the weirdest f*****g dream. Ugh, and why does my gut hurt? I feel like I've been hit by a car. What the hell did we do last night?" she said.

When neither of the men said a word, she finally looked at them. Both of them were staring at her, still confused. Walter looked like he had downed an entire bottle of whiskey and was paying the consequences. He kept rubbing the side of his head, the back of his head, and the bridge of his nose. Clearly, his entire skull ached.

"Don't tell me the dream involved some strange world and a young Prince?" Walter said. His voice sounded hoarse and aggravated. It was as though he didn't even want to hear the answer.

"Maybe," Emily answered. She was hesitant to be honest after hearing the tone of his voice.

"There's no way we all had the same dream," Walter muttered. He rubbed his face with both hands, desperate to bring some heat back to his head. During his ministrations, his focus went toward the sky. There, on the ceiling, were specks of red and streaks of blood. His entire body froze. His next statement was strangely hesitant and drawn out, as though his mind was processing each word as it came out, "We should get going."

"What? Why?" Emily asked. Her eyes followed his and landed on the source of his attention. There wasn't much time for her to think about what she saw. Doug was heeding the orders of Walter promptly and had already snatched her arm and started to pull her along.

That was all it took. She broke free from Doug and ran toward the door. Her backpack rested right near the entrance; she snatched it and glanced back at Walter and Doug trying to wake Chip up. Still hazy, Chip wasn't really following what they were saying. It took both Walter and Doug to drag him toward the door.

All four barreled into the hallway. Down the hall toward the exit stairs, a few police officers approached. They didn't appear to be in a hurry or concerned, until they saw the four adults suddenly freeze at the sight of them. It took Walter to get them moving again, as he pushed the entire group the opposite direction. Emily knew what to do at that point and took off in a mad dash.

She had no idea where she was going but somehow she ended up leading the pack. Shouts from the alarmed police officers echoed down the dirty hallways as she looked desperately for a way out. An exit sign blinked, as though it was beckoning her toward it. The brass knob of the large, steel exit door felt freezing when she grabbed it and she waited for the others to catch up.

Upon opening the door, they were all blinded by the bright sunlight. A small, narrow fire escape, made of rickety steel rods, waited for them. Emily had a bolder plan, however. Hurriedly she bounded down one story, and then without an ounce of fear in her blood, she leapt over the small alleyway and landed gracefully on the neighboring rooftop. The impact jolted her knees and she halted just long enough to recover.

Doug slammed on the brakes once he saw Emily jump. He had no plans to follow her. Walter was too busy pushing Chip, as the sleepy young man had no idea what was happening yet, to even realize Doug had stopped. Walter shoved Chip right into the still Doug, and the trio ended up in a heap on the cramped fire escape.

Walter was the first back to his feet, but the fear was coursing through his veins so quick and steadily that he could barely keep his balance. Despite feeling weak, he helped Chip and Doug back to their feet, and pushed them to move down the steel steps toward freedom. Finally, Doug got his wits back; he wasn't about to wait around for Chip so he picked his friend up like sack of potatoes and rushed down the stairs.

Walter was a few feet behind them when the deafening sounds of gunfire rang out. Walter ducked instinctively. Bullets ricocheted near his head, the sound of the pinging against the old metal loud enough his ears began to ring.

Officially in panic mode he shouted, "Jesus, Doug, move faster!"

"I would if I didn't have to carry this lug around!"

For whatever reason, that appeared to wake Chip up. "You can put me down, Doug," he said.

"Then I have to stop and I'm not risking getting shot again!" Doug yelled.

Doug lost his footing when his sneakers touched the concrete and he twisted his ankle, so he and Chip stumbled into a heap once more. Walter came to their rescue just in time; he picked both of them up off the ground right as another wave of bullets were headed their way.

Chip felt the strong grip of Walter on his arm falter right as a grunt of pain came from his friend's lips. He turned to find Walter holding his shoulder, blood seeping alarming fast through his shaking fingers. Chip went straight into a frantic mode, his mind moving too fast to take in any particular detail around them.

Despite the food of pain and panic that threatened to overtake Walter's head, he somehow found the strength to move forward. Annoyed at Chip acting like an i***t, he used his one good arm to force Chip in the correct direction. The duo hustled down the alleyway and around the corner, where Doug had already decided to hide himself.

"s**t, Walt, are you alright?!" Doug screamed at the sight of the bloodied trail his friend was leaving.

"I'm fine. Let's keep moving," Walter assured him. The words were spoken through gritted teeth. Being shot hurt a helluva lot more than he thought it would. The entrance burned, as though a hot iron was being pressed against his skin. Inside, where the bullet and burrowed and tumbled, it felt like a hungry dog was gnawing at his flesh. It was almost enough for him to lose consciousness.

"Jeez, you losers sure are slow," Emily pestered. She'd climbed down long ago and waited patiently for them to catch up. The sight of Walter made her uneasy, and she thought to poke fun, but instead said, "Chip, get Walter out of here. Doug and I will distract the police."

"Thanks for volunteering me, my Queen," Doug joked, although he clearly wasn't happy about it.

"You're welcome," she said in a snarky tone.

"No, we stick together," Chip demanded.

"I don't feel like getting shot again. Damn, this really hurts!" Walter whined.

The sound of police boots clanking down the fire escape meant they were drawing near. Aware that Chip wasn't about to stand down but Walter was in no condition to fight, Emily decided to lead by example and take off running again. She got about three steps into the street before a honking horn and screeching tires signaled oncoming danger.

A car skidded to a halt and narrowly missed her. The driver poked his head out to yell at her, but saw the bloodied Walter and instead said, "Are you all alright?"

"No, my friend's been hurt. Can you take us to the hospital?" Emily hurried out. Perfectly executed, it sounded frightened and sincere. The man nodded, and all four piled into small vehicle.

Walter ended up in the backseat, crushed between Chip and Emily. Doug entertained the driver, giving him a bullshit story how they were working on repairing some furniture when the electric saw hit a metal piece that somehow managed to fly and struck Walter in the shoulder. Since the driver had no idea what had caused Walter's injury, he appeared to accept the excuse.

Sirens and flashing lights flew past them. The driver commented on it, saying something how the drug community was tearing the town apart. Doug agreed. Emily rolled her eyes. Walter must have felt her expression, because despite his pain he used his good arm to poke her in the side. The gesture left a nasty stain on her shirt.

Annoyed, she wanted to curse at him, but his expression convinced her not to. Sweat was glistening off his forehead as he tried to keep himself calm. Agony was clearly plastered on his face as his lips contorted and his brows furrowed. Across from him, she could see Chip. Never before had he had so much sudden energy; he was practically standing up, with how far off his seat he was. His eyes were focused intently on the road ahead.

The drive was not even five full minutes. In a flash they were out of the vehicle, offering thanks to the driver and then ushering him along. At first, he seemed unsure about leaving them, but soon he was on his way out of the hospital parking lot and back on the road. For a solid minute they sat on the curb at the edge of the parking lot, careful not to make a scene over Walter's injury but giving him time to rest.

Walter was the first to break the silence, his voice coming out in heaves. "There's... there's a river... small... across the street there... we should follow it south."

"There's nothing south of here for miles besides farming communities," Emily argued.

"Exactly," he said. A horrible grunt of pain escaped his lips as he managed to get back to his feet. It was strange how the injured shoulder seemed to make his entire body weak. The rest followed as he made his way across the street, through an empty field and into the thick brush on the other side. The pace he set was brutally slow, but it was steady and he refused to stop.

It wasn't until a good thirty minutes passed that he finally had to stop. The blood loss was weakening him. Without a word he carefully set himself down on his butt near the water. When the others waited for him to speak, they were surprised to hear, "Just keep going. I'll catch up."

"We're not going to leave you," Chip insisted.

Emily sat next to him. She dug through her backpack and pulled out another smaller bag. Inside was revealed to be a small, homemade first aid kit. It wasn't going to fix the pain, but it had enough supplies to possibly save his life. In order to get a better view of the wound, she ripped his shirt sleeve off.

Bruising had covered his entire shoulder. The wound was covered with so much blood she couldn't identify the exact point of entry. A gauze was used to wipe away the blood; almost immediately, more came flooding out. The entrance would itself was only about the size of a thumbnail. Another wipe cleared the blood once more, and she finally felt confident she could dig in. Without a word to him, she pulled out a pair of tweezers, which she shoved into the bullet hole.

The howl of shock and pain from Walter was probably heard for several miles. Doug reacted quickly and slammed his hand over his mouth. Walter got the hint and immediately shut his mouth. Grinding his teeth, he focused solely on that rather than the feeling of Emily digging for the lodged bullet.

The sloshing sound of the tweezers and her fingers inside his skin caused Doug to shiver. Each time she moved even a fraction of a centimeter, the wound would ooze out more blood. It was impossible to know how much more damage her intrusion caused, but they all knew the bullet needed to be found. Once it was removed she tossed it into the river. Feeling free now that his body no longer had the foreign object inside it, he muttered, "Shouldn't you disinfect the wound?"

"Shut up. I don't have any alcohol, and if I did, I'd be drinking it right now instead of wasting it on you," she said. As she pulled out a needle and fishing wire, she joked, "Please tell me you don't have AIDS. I'm pretty sure we just swapped some blood there."

There was no response from him. The needle pierced through his skin and his entire body jolted at the sensation. Each time she shoved he needle through his skin again, he tensed, sometimes even twitched violently. Yet he remained quiet. When it became almost unbearable, he merely placed his head in his free hand and rubbed his forehead gently in order to calm himself.

One grueling minute later and Emily was finished. A cloth was used to wipe away the remaining fluid. To signal she was done, she slapped him on the back and began to pack up her stuff. In silence they all sat. Walter continued various breathing exercises to keep himself collected.

"Are you feeling alright?" Chip asked, concerned.

"Of course I'm not! It's thanks to you guys I got shot!" Walter shouted. It was unintentional, but it did feel good to get that out of his system. As Chip sunk at the outburst, Walter felt a small amount of guilt entire his heart.

"My fault? You guys commandeered my apartment and suddenly I'm being chased! What the hell is happening anyway?!" Doug yelled.

As the two boys started a shouting match, Emily pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket. She counted three left. One was removed and the pack returned to her pocket. Next, she removed her lighter. It took one, two, three clicks for the lighter to work. As she inhaled that first savory puff of her fresh cig, she allowed herself a moment to forget about everything going on in the world.

Upon exhaling the smoke, she turned her attention back to the two boys. Clearly, Walter was stressed out. Who wouldn't be after being shot? It was just a surreal sight, as he had always been the levelheaded one. Of course, there were times when his anger would flare up to dangerous levels, like one time in junior high when he nearly ended up in juvy for taking a baseball bat to a bully's head several times. Or when that fist fight with Kyle got out of control, and no one could pull Walter off of him, even after every bone in Kyle's face was broken...

Then there was Doug. He was all talk and no show. The amount of punches he'd thrown in his life could probably be counted on both hands, with no need to use toes or eyelashes. Emily had thrown more punches and kicks then he'd ever done. He often backed off rather quickly if Walter had sternly talked to him. Yet now, he stood aggressively, ready to fight if Walter even got to his feet.

Another puff scarred her lungs a bit more. It felt great. All she could think about was how much she wanted to smoke about another dozen, throw back a bottle of whiskey, and get her brains f****d out by some smoking hot stranger.

"Hm, that's your problem. You guys needs to let loose and get laid already," she said aloud.

It was enough to get both of them to shut up and focus solely on using their energy against her. Walter was the first when he growled and said, "That's all you've been going on about since you got back into town! You never acted like this before!"

"Because before, I was a child. We're grown ass people, Walter," Emily countered.

"Yeah, but there's more to life and being wasted and getting laid," Walter argued.

"What? Working your ass off at a cozy office job until the day your delusional best friend convinces you to make enemies with the f*****g government? Why don't you go back to your comfy office chair and secretary blow jobs and let me know how that works out," she said.

Walter didn't dare continue. All he could do was mumble something under his breath and then ignore her. Doug noticed this and said, "What happened with both of you? You guys were closer than anyone when we were growing up!"

"Because it's exactly as she said, Doug. We're not kids anymore. We're adults. We haven't been kids for a long time," Walter admitted.

For some reason, that appeared to upset Doug. An expression washed over his face that no one had ever seen before. It was like pure dread had filled him to the brim and threatened to take over.

"Well, just because we're adults doesn't mean we stop being friends!" Chip declared rather loudly. Everyone was surprised to finally hear from him, so much so they didn't say anything in response. He continued, "So what if we've all changed a bit, we still have a lot of good memories from back then and there's no reason why we can't make more good memories now! It's... it's what Sarah would want... and I know it's what I want!"

Emily laughed. It was just the right tone to break the awkward atmosphere. She said, "You're still a ten year old at heart, aren't you?"

Chip said nothing in response, he just smiled at her, revealing that yes, he was still a kid on the inside. Something about his cheerful nature helped bring Walter and Doug back, too. Despite the pain and anger, Walter smiled. Doug didn't, but he did carry a look of guilt that no one had seen from him since he was about eleven or twelve years old. Even though the future looked like an impossible feat, all of them felt confident they would see it.