Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Destiny's Call ❯ entry the Twentieth ( Chapter 20 )

Entry the Twentieth

 

It hurts. I wasn't supposed to move, because the wounds might tear open. I was stuck in the Cat. Outside it…

 

“We have to find someplace with a Doctor. We can't treat this.”

 

“that 6 month old map, assuming the gps is right, which Tarius made it so…” Franky's voice trailed off.

 

“The nearest town is 5 miles away? We can try it, but I'm seriously doubting we find anything. I say we split up. Franky, take Jewels and Corben and head 5 miles that way. I can take the hound here, its twenty miles southeast, direction of Chicago. We never found anybody who said there were any AD activity out that way, so this one might be alive. If both of us prove fruitless, we meet here, at a third town another 12 miles from you and 9 from me. If that still doesn't work…”

 

“We leave the planning to you, but let's go while daylight remains.”

 

Sprite was gone shortly on the hound, while the leviathan took its place within the Bearcat, and Franky drove up front while Jewels watched me in my sleep, praying and making sure I didn't take any turns for the worse. Oddly enough, no one thought to check and see if there was anything at ALL in the Leviathans case...

 

*

 

“Here, he's coming around now.” My eyes pried themselves open slowly, and a face, rugged, bearded, and gray brown swam into view.

 

“Well hello there young sir, glad to see you've come round.” He reminded me of all those stereotypes about the grandfathers.

 

“Where…” was all that made it out, the words catching in my throat.

 

“You must be parched, here, have some water.” He opened the bottle and tipped some water into my mouth. I gulped it down, and then tried to move my arms. “Easy now, don't move too much just yet. It's a miracle that you've woken up.”

 

“Where am i? Where's Jewels, Franky, Sprite?”

 

“right here Corben. Well, Franky and Jewels are in the next room sleeping.” Sprite was standing a little back from the grandpa. “This is Doc Saul. He's a surgeon from Chicago.”

 

“Thanks Doc, I, I feel great.” Despite the doctor's advice, I sat up, and stared down at the scars crossing me. Dark, evident, ugly. One scar extended down my chest to left of my naval, another 3 crossed each other on my right leg, another passed down my right arm from my shoulder to the back of my hand… exactly how it got so exact I may never know.

 

“Well, at least I remember how I got these… and why I didn't immediately bleed to death.” I smiled to myself, and then I heard a noise. I looked up, and Jewels had walked into the room, the noise was her cup hitting the floor, luckily for the cup, it was plastic so no shatter of catastrophe, but you don't care about that, do you?

 

“Corben!” she run up and hugged me.

 

“GAH! Gah gah… gah ha how OW!” I yelled suddenly, the pain skyrocketing into outer space. She let go.

 

“I'm… I'm sorry, I'm just so happy you're awake, and well… alright?” she ended hesitantly, not sure it was the most apt word to describe my condition.

 

“I know, it isn't your fault.” Franky was staring at me from the doorway, something different in her eyes, but at the time, I didn't notice it, so absorbed was I with Julie and the extra pain.

 

*

 

“Thank you doc. I don't know how we'll pay you back for this, Sprite says you didn't give a price at the time.”

 

“ah I'm not charging anything lad. Everyone has something in life they are called to do, something that will help us all, especially in these dark times. This is my path, I'm just glad I could keep you around to find yours.”

 

A path, a direction, a place I am meant to reach… it calls to me so strangely, it felt… like now I knew. Thank you God, who I have not been talking to enough.

 

“Now about those wounds. Just don't do anything really strenuous for a while and you should be fine. But I warn you, even once they heal, they'll probably flare up now and again. Wounds like that never go away entirely.”

 

I nodded, my mind not fully there.

 

As we walked out, I found my notice drawn to a young man, wearing, no, it couldn't be… Urahara's hat? Pimp hat, green with white stripes? Or was it white with green stripes?

 

He was wearing glasses, dirty blonde hair, and taller than me, but not taller than Sprite. I still love that contradictory nickname... anyways, his gaze slid onto me and locked for a second, and the strangest sensation passed through me, then a grin split his face and he kept going, into the doctors building. I looked around at the small town. There were a very large set of concrete walls surrounding it, with walkway for lookouts to pace on. A well defended, if remote, place, I'd guess. As Jewels and Sprite explained, I found I was right.

We walked out of town to the Cat, Sprite said they had something to show me. I swear I never saw it coming. But I do love pets. Dogs rules especially. Dogs are amazing. Especially mine. Rusty was staring at me, seated next to the Cat, Loophole laying atop it. He barked and ran to me soon as I saw him. I was uber extra happy. Which may have, from certain viewpoints, been extremely rude or selfish of me…

 

There was something attached to his collar, and he was wearing, of all things, a Halloween bandana on his neck like a scarf, just like the zoom and groom lady used to do. The something was a music player, a modified Zen creative, well, according to Tarius's note, it was now 100GBs… and chock full of music, including recordings by a number of different bands travelling with the rest of the us, the Walkers as people now called them.

 

Music flooded my ears as it had not for what felt as ages. Sweet sweet music, and suddenly, a measure of me that had been dormant awakened, a certain, creativity, a certain, peace, the ability to think more clearly, a lifting of weights, a… a cleansing. Music will do that for a person, truly it will. When all else fails, the right song, or sometimes any song, is just what the doctor should have ordered. I hold nothing against the aforementioned Saul or any other doctors who do not, however. iHouse all the way dude…

 

“This is indeed a fantastic surprise. Tarius, dude, you rock. Wait, what?” a small piece of the note unfolded, which added, “The idea of sending you some tunes was Isaiah, that is, Reggie's idea. We've changed his name… same reasons as yours, though I'm damn sure he would have whether or not you did. It IS Reg/Isaiah afterall. See you when you find it, I'm out.”

 

“So… should we head into town? Do they allow dogs in town?”

 

“Why are we taking the canines?”

 

“Just rusty. Loophole, stand, or lay, guard here. Nobody touches the our stuff except us, `kay?” the Fox blinked, then settled into his nook atop the Cat more comfortably. “Rusty, come.” We headed into town for supplies, a break, some cooked food, they had Italian even, and a drink. Which leads to something I'm compelled to mention…

 

“Wah, gah *cough cough cough* this is horrible. Why does it taste so awful?” Franky's disgust with the pasta was evident, but I couldn't comprehend why. This was pretty good pasta, or so I thought. Granted, I'm not full blooded or even part Italian, but still, I've been eating real Italian sauce for like, 19 years, I'd have some clue as to good Italian.

“What do you mean, this is good!” Sprite commented as he slurped a noodle into his mouth.

 

“I don't know, but…”

 

“Something the matter with the cooking dear?” the kindly women, and wife to the cook, who had been serving us, asked. So far as we knew, they were using an old family recipe of her husband's.

 

“I know Italian, I AM Italian, and this, it just, it tastes, well, terrible. But nobody else seems to think so.”

 

“Well I don't know deary, maybe you have a cold. Things can taste weird when you have a cold.”

 

“Maybe.”

 

After the meal, in which Franky hated everything we tried, we stopped by the pub/cake shop, yes, they combined the two, for desert… and some soda. It had gotten dark outside

 

I sat at the table, sipping some damn good IBC rootbeer, Sprite having, well, Sierra mist, and Jewels enjoying some water while she sat and spun occasionally on a bar stool, Franky was enjoying Dr. Pepper next to her. We were being ignored. Most of the center tables were the men off duty for the night, and some of the women off duty as well. They certainly didn't discriminate. The only other person not really part of the main ruckus was a man, hooded with an unusual hat over his head, in the dark corner at the front.

 

Suddenly, the door burst open.“Guys, There's a man at the gates, he wants in, says his name is Corben Cypher!”

 

“Ha, let him in, I'd love to see this. Well, get going Greg.”

 

“Right Smith.” Greg ran off while Smith turned to laugh with his cronies, his Dark face split into a huge grin. Smith, to clarify, is the guy in charge of the town, more or less.

 

Soon, he strutted in, a weird longsword strapped to his side, guns on his back, dressed in a white longcoat. I do NOT look like that, and that isn't just me retching at his bad fashion sense, I really don't. for starters, no long coat. Second, I wear more black than that. Did I mention I has laser swords? And laser pistols/rifle?

 

“So, you're Corben Cypher? Let me see the sword. Witnesses say it glows red.”

 

“It isn't a glow, more of a,” he paused and drew the sword, flipping a switch. The blade literally burst into flame, “Blaze.” Many ohs and ahs echoed through the bar. But the sound most noticeable was a giggle, one that was obviously having attempts to suppress taken at it. Julie had turned away from the man claiming to be “Corben Cypher” and was staring at the bar top, desparately trying not to laugh. Franky had clapped her hand to her forehead, and was shaking it. Sprite was whistling to himself and staring at the ceiling.

 

One of the men got up from his table and walked over. “You think something is funny, girly?” several men were glaring at us angrily, but Jewels didn't notice. Her eyes glazed over for a moment, and then she just started laughing more.

 

I smiled. “Well, we just aren't sure we believe that's him. I mean, what the hell is the point of flames on a sword? They won't make it cut better. Those aren't nearly hot enough.”

 

Half the bar turned to mr. Longcoat the faker for a reply. “simple,” he began. “It is all psychological. Makes me seem more dangerous, makes them afraid.” Figures he'd have an answer for that…

 

“ok, but also, I've heard Corben Cypher was a kid. Like, 17-19 or something like that.”

 

“what, like you? There's no way he could be a kid or a teenager or anyone that young.”

 

“Walker is a kid.” Every man there shut his mouth, every women there followed suit, nobody able to muster a rebutle. Because it was the truth, undeniable, there for all to see. This town even had satellite, and still got reception from the new stations in New York and Los Angeles. Those stations in turn were giving regular updates on every positive thing they could, and Walker and his Walkers gave them lots of good news to report. He had led those under his command to 12 minor victories and 3 major ones, even retaking St. Louis and breaking the blockade in its entirety in KC.

 

“Walker may be a kid, but I think the real power is some bunch of adults in the back ground. He's just a puppet.” I started laughing at that one.

 

Suddenly I stiffened. No… but of course, yes. I bolted for the door, turning my head back to yell, “The Dogs are barking!” it took everyone except sprite a second or 10 to figure out what the hell I meant by that. I meant exactly what I said, the dogs were barking, because we were under attack.

 

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