Hatchetfield Stories

Close Your Eyes

Hey, look! It's me writing about the helicopter crash again!

I'm not proud of the ending but it's late and I'm tired.

TRIGGER WARNINGS:
-Gun violence
-Hospitals
-Needles
-Injury

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Emma cried softly while Paul's hands hovered over her thigh hesitantly. "Paul?"

"Yes, Emma?"

"I'm not gonna make it."

Paul grabbed her hand. "Sure you will. I know you will."

"No, Paul! Just listen to me! I'm scared and in pain and what if someone attacks us? I can't fight!"

Paul sighed. "Emma, lay your head down, okay? And close your eyes."

Emma's eyes widened. "What? No! You're not pulling it out!"

"I won't, I promise, just lie down and save your energy. I'll find a way out."

Emma nodded. "Okay." She laid her head down. "What now?"

"I'll get us out of here. I promise."

Emma closed her eyes. "We have to-"

"We don't have to do anything." Paul cut her off. "It's over."

"What?" Emma opened her eyes, Paul was standing in front of her, the gun he got from the general pointed in her direction. His eyes were glowing blue in the dark of the night. Emma pushed herself into a sitting position. "Paul, what are you doing?"

Paul chuckled. "You have to be a good actor to be a part of the Hive. Which is why I know you'll be the best."

"Paul..."

"Emma, I'm only helping you. You're in pain, and this is the only way to stop that. You'll become one of us. You'll be happy. You'll be with me." He stroked her cheek, the gun still in his other hand. "You're the only human left in Hatchetfield, you'll have to become one of us sooner or later. Close your eyes."

"Paul, no!"

"Close your eyes."

"Please!"

Bang!

*** *** ***

Emma was woken up by a man in a lab coat. Everything hurt, but especially her leg and her chest, where Paul had shot her. Paul. She trusted him. How long had he been infected? Since they met in the coffee shop? Since he came back to save them from professor Hidgens? She had no clue.

She snapped out of her thoughts when the man in the lab coat injected something in her arm. Her first instinct was to jerk away, only to find out she was restrained to the bed.

"What's happening?" she asked. God, her throat hurt. She'd been infected, right? For how long? Days? Weeks?

"You've been infected. We managed to cure you though. Well, we think. We still need to run some tests."

"How long have I been infected? What happened to Hatchetfield? Where's Paul?"

The doctor sighed. "Hatchetfield is destroyed. The entire island burned down when some aliens tried to light the soldiers who were trying to save them on fire."

"Paul Matthews. Is he safe? Is he here?"

"I think we have a Paul Matthews a few rooms down the hall."

Emma sat up, as far as that was possible with the restraints. "What? Can I see him?"

The doctor chuckled, "You're not going anywhere with that leg of yours. Besides that, I don't know if he's cured yet, he's not my patient."

Emma nodded, "Do you have anything to drink? My throat feels like it's on fire."

"That makes sense, you haven't had anything for three weeks. Nothing to eat, nothing to drink, you must be really hungry." Emma nodded. "I'll make sure you get some yogurt or something like that. I'll be right back."

The man left the room, leaving Emma alone. She looked around. She was hooked up to countless machines, she didn't even know what most of them were for.

Lying back down, she thought about Paul. Was he cured? And if he was, was he thinking about her? She thought about what he had said. 'You have to be a good actor to be a part of the hive.' He had been acting all along. Would he even remember her? Or was all the interaction she'd had with him just with the alien that overtook his body?

"Miss Perkins?" the doctor asked, entering the room. "I got you some soup. And I asked one of my colleagues about Paul Matthews, he is cured and conscious, and you will be able to see him after we've ran some tests on both of you."

Emma nodded, barely managing to hide her excitement. "Thank you!"

*** *** ***

"Paul!" Emma shouted when Paul walked into the room. Their doctors had decided that Paul would go to Emma so Emma didn't have to leave her bed, because she had two severe injuries.

"Hey, Em!" Emma smiled at the nickname. Paul sat down on the bed. An awkward silence filled the room as both of them recalled the memories of the apocalypse.

"You shot me," Emma spoke up after about a minute.

"I'm sorry, I did what?"

"You shot me. Well, not you, that fucking alien. I don't blame you, I'm just mad that this all happened."

"Tell me about it, this was not how I wanted to spend god knows how many days of my life."

Emma chuckled. "I wish we met under different circumstances."

"Me too."

They talked for several hours before the doctor sent Paul away so both of them could get some rest.

Emma wishes they met under different circumstances, but she's glad they met.