Apocalypse: The Savior with System

5 Not A Zombie...Yet!

No! I’m not going to die here!

Paul fought hard against the weight dragging him under the water until at last the grip slackened and he was able to pull away, gasping lungfuls of air as he paddled away from the zombie.

But unless zombies have already mutated and could actually speak the words, “Help me”, he was not going to come any closer.

“Help me,” he heard again

Okay. It’s not a zombie. It’s a still-living man obviously bleeding to death in the water, the river turning a ribbon of red downstream

Not thinking of the risk to himself, Paul paddled back and turned the body over, a bearded man with a very pale face and lips almost blue from the cold and blood loss. Heaving, Paul hitched the stranger with one arm and with his other, waded to the rocky embankment. Free of the water and river weeds, Paul finally got a closer look at the man.

He was indeed a large man, heavily muscled, and definitely much older than he was. Everywhere on the tattered military fatigues he wore there were bullet holes. Paul wondered if this was a soldier. Of course, his questions could be answered once the man survives first.

Realizing he had traveled a good way downstream, Paul stood and looked around, thanking his lucky stars that there seemed to be a dilapidated hut a few meters ahead, possibly part of a farmhouse or ranch. With difficulty, Paul fireman-carried the stranger made heavier by their combined wet clothes. Paul reached the front porch, kicked the door open and surveyed the house. It was empty. He laid the man across a battered wooden dining table in the kitchen and began rummaging in the drawers for a first aid kit.

Luck was on his side for the day when a floor cupboard revealed a white box with a giant red cross label. Opening it, he found a pair of scissors, some bandages, sutures,  antiseptic, and tweezers. In another cupboard, his sense of smell detected the scent of alcohol…of the drinking kind. He found two bottles and took one out for disinfection. Calling to mind what he learned from military school and the medics he served within Pakistan, Paul checked his system for anything that he can use to sterilize the instruments.

He pushed on several buttons on the console and finally found what he needed. He found he can use a little fire action without spending too much thermal energy. With that, he sterilized the scissors and tweezers, doused the man with the alcohol he found earlier then began removing the bullets from the stranger’s body.

And goddamn they were many.

It was a miracle the man did not die yet.

Once the last bullet was removed, Paul had the grueling task of suturing each wound closed. After applying antiseptic and covering the wounds with bandages, Paul checked on his patient. Still alive and breathing. Quite surprising how the man barely moved a muscle or emitted a sound of pain during the whole process of saving his life.

Paul checked his system again and saw that his conversion level and thermal levels needed to upgrade more. One option was to go up higher in the mountain, closer to the energy source, the sun. He looked at the time and saw he had only over an hour to gather the last of the sun’s rays before it started to set. But if he went up the mountain, there was no telling what could happen to the other man.

“Oh, what the heck! I’ll just bring you along with me, then,” he said to the unconscious man, lifting him yet taking care not to reopen the wounds, hitching him piggyback style. Paul, with a large strange man on his back, walked up the mountain, taking most of an hour. When he reached an overhang where the sun shone directly, Paul put the stranger down and basked in the sunlight, soaking up solar energy.

“Thermal Level upgrade now at Level 2,” the system spoke. “Fireball size slight increase in diameter. Conversion Level still suboptimal.”

Paul tsked and tried to figure out how to increase the conversion. Tinkering with the different aspects of the system made him discover that he needed resources to increase conversion, so he can likewise increase the capacity to hold thermal energy. And in so doing, have more stock energy to use and create fireballs of increasing size and power.

“For next Conversion Level Upgrade, you will need ten kilograms of iron, copper, and silicon,” the system advised.

Ten kilograms?! Paul whistled. Where on earth will he get that much of those resources…and here in the middle of nowhere?

With the last rays of the sun disappearing as the moon began to fade in the darkening sky, Paul carried the stranger back to the abandoned house.

“There could be something in this place,” he told himself, searching every room, nook, and cranny. It was while he was looking in one of the closets that he heard movement behind him. He turned around and saw the stranger sitting up, fully awake though still looking pale and weak.

“You’re awake!” Paul exclaimed, walking over though slowly. He still did not know if the man was an enemy or not. The man looked up at him with bloodshot eyes.

“W-Water,” the man hoarsely said.

Paul headed to the sink, found a relatively clean-looking glass, filled it with water, and handed it to the man, who drank everything in one gulp.

“Thanks,” the man said. “And not just for the water.”

“No problem,” Paul said with a shrug. “I’m Paul Justinos.”

The man looked him up and down. “Marine?”

Paul’s eyebrows rose. “Former. How did you know?”

“I’ve been around you military types for more years than I care to count. You’ve got that look to you,” the man replied. “I’m Rahu Knight.”

That name sounds familiar, Paul thought. He wanted to ask the man some more questions but his mind could not summon a handful at the moment.

So he said, “Look, man, I don’t want to invade your privacy or anything and I don’t know what happened to you but if you need to go, you’re free to go.”

Rahu blinked up at him and said, “No, you don’t need to know anything. But I am grateful for what you’ve done. Thank you for saving my life.”

“Well,” Paul said sheepishly. “You’re not exactly out of the woods, you know. I’m no doctor and we don’t have medicines here to help stave off infection. I don’t think there’s any more to be found in this house.”

“Perhaps,” Rahu breathed, rising to his full height only to bend over slightly from the pain. “But I pay my debts, especially debts of gratitude. Paul Justinos, if you need my help, I give it to you freely.”

You don’t look like you’re in any position to even help yourself sit back down, Paul thought not unkindly. He did not voice his thoughts though and just shrugged.

“Suit yourself,” he said, heading towards the door. “I’ll see if I can find any other resources around here. It seems we’ll be bunking here for the night, at least. Looks safe to me.”

No sooner had he opened the door a few inches when something from the darkness hurled inwards, pushing him hard to the floor.

Again, the stench of decay assailed his nostrils. Zombies!

“Not again!” Paul wailed, crouching to protect his face as a rotting mouth descended on his flesh.