Last Life Part 1: Homecoming

The White Sparrow

Saul

Harsh incandescent lighting forced a white seam into my squinting eyes as I woke up to an unfamiliar room. The scent of antiseptics and solvents burned my nose and filled me with nausea. Where... Where was I? I sat up slowly, finding that I was attached to an IV fluid bag and a heart monitor. Looking about bleary eyed and groggy, I saw that I was in some sort of infirmary, which otherwise was dark and empty, except of course for the part I occupied.

Opposite of me, the wall was splattered with blood and a faint green gel. Was that... my blood? Grogginess, from some kind of drug, started to flood my systems. Exhaustion weighed down on me like a lead blanket. I feel terrible. No-no I must get up. With heaving breaths, I forced myself upright, propping myself up onto my arms. The heart monitor started to go off, beeping out the most irritating squeal. Nevermind that thing. I ripped the wires off of my chest, feeling icy metal clutch at my flesh. What the- I looked at my hand- no... No-oh hell no!

An entirely metal arm, of some infected human perhaps, was now affixed, from the elbow downwards, to my right arm. I must be high. These drugs-that's it-this can't be real. I lifted up my sleeve to see that dark blue circuits traveled up the length of my arm to my shoulder. Occasionally, an electric teal glow shot through the circuit, terminating into my pink, inflamed flesh. No, this was impossible. It couldn't be real. Zion would not accept me like this, only the uninfected could pass, and what was I now? I started to tremble, fear had caught me tight in its vice.

"Hey. You're up, you should really lie back down. You've lost a lot of blood." A calm voice made its way into the room. I looked up at the doorway to see a short, masked figure standing there. Just a little ways out of the light, hidden in shadow, a human.

"I..." I gasped, stunned. I frantically wiped at my face, forcing the burning tears back into my eyes.

"Hush now, you really need to rest. Speak to me later, there's always time, there's no need to rush." She cut me off coolly while still remaining in the doorway, seeming to be on edge. I eased back slightly, unsure of this stranger. She stepped forward into the light. Clad in loose, dark clothing; a shirt with large sleeves that reached her elbows, and pants that reached her knees, both made of unrecognizable material. Most of her skin was covered in clean, white bandages, and on her hands she wore heavy gloves. More startling though was her white hair and her pale, rosy-scarred skin that peeked through. Pushing the locks that stuck to her forehead with sweat, she looked at me with a solitary verdant green eye, the other was obscured by an eyepatch, and for the rest of her face, it was hidden behind an old olive-colored scarf.

She leaned over me, somehow getting close, but without being in contact with me. After what seemed like the longest seconds of my life, she picked up several of the heart monitoring wires and placed them back on my chest, holding her hand there for a moment. "You better not take these out again or I'll have to take your other hand, you hear?" She muttered, straightening up and fixing the IV tubes. "I'm Sparrow by the way, I don't need to know your name just yet. I just need you to rest." Sparrow got up, turned out the lights and left. It was as if she were nothing more than a ghost.

I hadn't seen another human in years... It was as if I had forgotten they existed. But now to the matter at hand... In the dark, I was left without the confirmation that my alien limb was still there, but the cool touch of metal to my thigh forced me to accept that it was reality. What had she done to me. Whose arm was this? Who was she? Sparrow? The darkness held no answer for me, but it did offer rest. I accepted that at least.

Waking up to someone sitting cross legged at the foot of my bed was something I had never expected to see within my own lifetime. But there she was, watching me intently, with a mugful of tea in her bare, scarred palms. For her white hair, she looked so young, but perhaps I haven't had quite enough exposure to the human race. Sparrow half smiled with her eye at me for a moment then offered her drink to me. I halfheartedly refused, still confused.

"Where am I?" I asked, my voice thick from disuse.

"Grey Palms Bunker Town, infirmary #2, room #4." She replied, getting off of the bed and setting the mug down. What on earth did any of that mean... "I doubt you know where that even is. But I have no idea where you have sprung up from, and with a boar at that. Tell me, what is your name, where are you from?" The boar... Where was he?!

"My name is Saul... I'm from the Southwest, near the coast ranges. But please, where is the boar? I must know." I replied, the words spilling from my mouth in a confused tangle of notes into the air. I could already tell from the look on her face, she had no idea where he was. "Does anybody know where he is?" She shook her head, looking back up at me with regret in her eye. Damn it.

"I'm sorry, he was chased off and he hasn't returned. It has been about a day now. He could be anywhere."

"No... He must come back..." I said, lost.

"I'm sorry, Saul. Maybe he will. But he has not yet, and he may not for days. There is a terrible dust storm out there right now." She was telling the truth.

Again, she offered the cup. "Drink." She said, "It'll make you feel loads better." I took the mug and swirled the liquid within for a moment, contemplating the honeyed beverage. A sip later, I was leaning back and chattering away like a squirrel. Telling her about my home, about the forest, and about the boar. Sparrow sat silently, taking in every word, occasionally nodding and waving for me to continue. Somehow, I had managed to finish the whole cup, and along with it, spill my entire life story.

"Heh, sorry about that, I don't trust people, so I had to use that stuff on ye before continuing on with your treatment. I'd hate to be helping a bad person. I've made that mistake... once." She chuckled, taking the cup from my hands.

"I don't really trust you either." I managed to get out, through the syrupy haze of the drink.

"Yeah, but you don't have a choice, trust me or die." She said, looking me straight in the eyes, her expression dark.

"Thanks." I replied softly.

"You're welcome." She swept my hair back, checking my temperature for a moment before quickly withdrawing her hand. Shaking her head, she looked away, running her hands through her short, undercut hair. "Get some rest, I'll be back later to check up on you. Don't get any funny ideas while I'm gone." She turned out the light and closed the door, locking it from the outside. Well then... I was in the dark. Again.

Oh boar... Wherever you are... I hope the storm doesn't get you.