Vial #127

Chapter 39: The Depth of Beginning

I run over, stabbing the biters, wandering just below his feet. Their blood soaks my skin. The knife blade sinks into their skull, sliding dully out with soft crackles as the bone splits.

Next, I try to climb up the trunk to reach Aiden but there aren't any branches until at least fifteen feet up. "Help me!" I screech, knowing that a human can only survive three minutes without oxygen. I pray that we are not too late as I continue to wrap my arms around the bark to try and get grip. "Hold his body up!" I command.

Eventually it's Jeb who gets him down. Raising his bow, he fires an arrow, with such precise aim, that it splits the rope, sending Aiden down onto the ground.

I run over, desperately pulling at the strings until it loosens. Aiden lies still, not moving at all. "Do something," I raise an arm, hoping that someone will get the gesture. I know that I should assess the situation, then start CPR but the eternal shock has overrun my body and I sit on the sideline, just watching, hoping, waiting.

Jeb runs over and starts compressions, thirty of them, then two breaths. Aiden's chest doesn't rise the first time so he re-adjusts his grip and blows in again. This time the air goes in. He repeats the cycle, going back and forth. After four cycles, during his compressions, he looks up at me, his eyes sorry, "Emma, it's been too long, I think it's too late."

He takes his hands off of his chest and I start to scream. This cannot be happening. My vision goes blurry and I barricade myself into Jackson, shaking with fear and loss.

"Emma," Jamie's voice is small, "Emma look," I follow his pointing arm to Aiden, whose eyes are feebly opening. I rush over, hauling my body over and falling onto the ground next to him.

"Aiden," I put my hand on his cheek and he smiles, pulling his fragile neck up so that his lips meet mine. I hold on forever and I promise myself one thing, I will never ever let him out of my sight again.

"Emma, it just felt like I was fading, like into a peaceful dream and all I remember was that you were there and then, you saved me and you were here. I couldn't breath," he looks down remembering the fear; his hand covering his eyes still allowing me to see the emotional tears rolling down his cheeks, "My lungs were just burning and I though that I was going to hell but then I saw you, and I knew that I couldn't let go, just not yet." I pull him into my body, cushioning him like a mother reunited with her baby.

"We have to go, it's okay now," I hold him up with the help of Jackson and we retrace the path. He struggles through the undergrowth, constantly getting tangled in the maze of branches and leaves. "Aiden, who did this to you?" I ask, and I swear that whoever did this to him, will pay. I will kill them with my bare hands.

"I don't know, a cop about thirty-five maybe; that's all I remember, his police hat, his breath smelled of liquor. He was drunk, that's for sure. He said he was alone, that his group had just left him a few days ago." I assure him that it'll be okay, that no one will ever hurt him again, not on my watch. Jackson and I exchange glances with the description of his assailant.

Aiden uses Jackson and I as crutches as we hobble back. When we slide through the river, his foot slips. He goes crashing down on the rock; Jackson and I fumble quickly to re-grip but Aiden's head hits the ground with a hard thump.

His eyes are still open but a thin dribble of blood soaks his head and matts it down. "Aiden, are you okay?" I continuously ask as I guide his body to the side bank. I kneel beside him, gently pulling the hair aside. There's tiny indents where the rocks hit is skull but nothing went through, into the brain. Blood flows out from his nose and I reach into my bag, desperately trying to find something to soak it up.

"Here, take this," Jeb holds out a handkerchief and I deal with the blood. Aiden's neck is stiff but we manage to heedfully raise him up again, moving at a much slower pace. We follow our path, Jeb taking the back, covering us from biters but none are in sight or earshot.

Aiden's feet drag along the ground, kicking up mud and grime like a bike through a puddle. Finally, when my arms are burning, we surface from the forest and cross the road. At first the scene seems deserted. I hold Jamie close as I draw towards the truck. The front seat is empty and everything is still in place.

"Sadie," I whisper. If she's alive, she'll hear me. There's no response and I try the door. It's locked and the keys are still inside. I go to all the windows; one is open about two inches and I manage to reach my knife down and unlock the car. I get in the front seat and stare around. It's weird. Everything is how it was left but an unsettling presence lingers in the atmosphere.

There's movement coming from the back and I hold up my gun ready to fire. Instead of a biter, I see Sadie, looking like she's been to hell and back.

"What is going on? Why didn't you respond?" Sadie just shakes her head, tears falling from her eyes.

"Is Will," I pause, there's no nice way to ask, "is Will dead?" I feel the weight on my chest pushing me down as I pray that he is still here, breathing and with us.

"No he's not dead but he's barely holding on," Sadie takes a seat, exhausted and suddenly on the alert as she spots our newcomers. "You found Aiden," she smiles; this day was not going to be all about losses.

"This is Jeb. He helped us to find Aiden," I explain.

"Quite a ride you got there. Mind if I look around at it?" Jeb asks. Of course he's interested in cars, especially an army vehicle.

"You can't go inside," he eyes us all suspiciously.

"Why? What you hiding," he reaches back into his belt for his gun.

"No, nothing like that. Just where we came from, there was a highly infectious disease," I explain, "we have one inside; we just don't want you to get it." I conclude, raising up both of my hands in a surrendering gesture to prove our innocence.

He nods, then scouts around the car, wondering what to do next. The door swings open in a hurry. Sadie comes out, fear in her eyes, her muscles are tense. Each of her breaths are shallow and her neck muscles stick out prominently. "Emma," she comes over, gripping both of my shoulders, there are tears in her eyes, "Emma, I think he's dying. You have to help."