Chapter 6: Déjà Vu Resurrection

I was actually cold. I guess that was what woke me up because I had not been cold for days, even sleeping in a refrigerator. I had not been cold since The Incident started changing me. Not really cold. I pried open my eyes to a splitting headache and a sun setting behind the greasy purple the sky seemed to suddenly wear as its everyday color. Laying there I realized a couple of things. First off, I was soaked. My arm, legs, torso, and head were wet. Painfully raising my left hand to my head (my right not quite working the way it should) I realized it was melting blood. Whatever cuts it exited from, they were all healed. As I was taking stock of myself, my second realization, that I was once more healed from something that should have killed me, became something of a horror to me. The reason my right arm was not working properly was because it not only healed but healed crookedly from the break that I did not remember. I remember my left shoulder dislocating, but not my right arm being broken. It looked like something a kid would draw, seemingly more joints than God intended and hanging there useless from my right shoulder. It would need to be rebroken and set properly. Looking down at my legs, I saw my right lower leg was also more than a little useless in its healed state. The fibula would also have to be rebroken and set.

Looking around, I saw the claymore about a dozen feet away under the truck. The truck had a large dent in the side from where the alpha savage drummed it with the tree; otherwise, it looked much as it did before the fight. Using my left arm and leg, I dragged my body over to the sword. I slid it into the sheath that was still strapped to my back. Using the sheathed weapon as a crutch, I levered myself into a standing position and looked around. I could hear a few skitterings in the trees, but nobody emerged into the twilight to attack me again. It was getting colder by the second and a fitful breeze kicked up, making me realize how shredded my scrounged sweatpants were. I sighed, knowing it meant we were going to have to find a store before running away from the ruins of civilization. Jimmy, so far as I knew, had no clothes other than those he was wearing (his stained and stretched guard uniform), Heather was wearing the scrounged clothes she arrived with (though better made and more stylish than Jimmy's uniform), and I now had none. Again.

I wondered if Jimmy was awake and if Heather followed my orders and locked herself in the fridge after locking the building back up. If not, all I should have to do is knock on the front door. If she did, then Jimmy would not wake up on his own until nearly full dark, a time when we would not be opening the doors at all. We would be spending another night in the Smithsonian, either way. Even as fast as I healed, rebraking and setting my arm and leg would have me out of action for at least tonight. Perhaps we could keep Jimmy up past dawn in order to leave in the morning. Thinking about it, that sounded like a better plan. It would give us all day to get out of the city and allow us to more safely visit some stores on our way out of the DC area.

But first I had to get in the building before dusk.

The skittering in the trees was getting louder and more frequent and I could see indistinct forms darting from shadow to shadow up and down Con Ave. Since my leg was lamed, I could not get the running jump I probably needed to make the overhang, meaning I was very unlikely to be able to climb up to the roof again. Even if I did have two arms to catch the overhang and pull myself up with, which I did not. With the sword keeping me upright, I hobbled down the sidewalk and up the steps to the back doors of the museum. I put my ear to the door before knocking, hoping to hear movement of some kind. Unfortunately, there were no sounds. I knocked, getting progressively louder until I was almost pounding on the door. There was no response. I patted my coat pockets and was relieved to feel the truck keys in my left pocket. We would all have been shit out of luck if I lost the damn keys in the fight that morning!

The sun was sinking behind the buildings, the sky's purple hue accentuated with reds and oranges that made those buildings left unburnt appear blood-soaked in the twilight. Somewhat fitting given what those who worked in them were party to, knowingly or not, and that culminated in the events of the last few days. The streets and sidewalks of Washington, D. C. did not need the setting sun's aid in adorning themselves in blood. Their color was gotten honestly and would remain until the next rain washed them clean once more. God only knows what kind of orgy of cannibalism will occur when the savages run out of food. The next harvest season was months away and there were no more farmers or transportation networks to make sure food was readily available. Wild animals tended to avoid the cities, for the most part, so the only source of sustenance left will be other savages.

Shaking off my bout of speculation, I began hobbling back to the truck, each step an awkward, uncomfortable, not-quite-painful shuffle. If I could manage to stay very quiet, I might be able to spend the night in the truck. It would be very cold, but I was pretty sure I would not freeze to death and it would ensure Heather and Jimmy didn't leave me behind. My stuttering pace had taken me about halfway back to the truck when I heard a metal-on-metal grating behind me. Turning, I saw the heavy metal bookcase used to barricade the back door move. Through the gate and cracked safety glass I saw a wide-eyed Jimmy and a suddenly frantic and crying Heather. Jimmy unlocked the door as fast as his huge hand-paws allowed and Heather unlocked the gate, squirming through and running at me without opening it all the way. She leapt into my arms, or arm, from five feet away, forcing me to drop the sword and catch her one handed, hopping on my left leg to spend her momentum.

"I-I-I thought y-you w-w-were d-d-d-dead-d!" she wailed, weeping into my neck.

Jimmy opened the gate all the way and lumbered out to us. "Glad to see you weren't shittin' me about how lucky you were with all this," he said in a gruffly sincere growl. His eyes flicked over my arm and leg and he shook his head. "The little one was distraught when she woke me up this morning and cried herself to sleep. She heard banging on the door and woke me up again; afraid the monsters were coming to get her. She told me you were dead, so I am glad you made it through. Still looks like you got fucked up pretty bad. Come inside. We ain't gettin' outta here tonight anyway."

Jimmy slung the sword over his right shoulder and slung my right arm over his shoulders, Heather worming herself under my left arm when she saw my right leg. There was a sickly horrified look in her eyes that she tried to hide when she saw me looking. They hauled me into the building, locked it back up, and brought me downstairs. One of the tables in the cafeteria served as the exam table as Heather washed the blood off of me and Jimmy looked over my arm and leg.

"I take it you know these need to be broken and set, right?" Jimmy asked flatly, clawed fingers feeling the bones.

"Yeah. How did you do on the strength upgrade?" I quipped.

He suddenly yanked my arm, snapping it right where it was previously broken, eliciting a scream from me. His huge hand pulled on my arm, broken bone end grating on broken bone end, earning another scream as he set the bone. As I lay there gasping in agony, Jimmy walked over to the small fridge case and got me a water. He cracked it open and lifted my head, pouring a mouthful into me. "You ready for the leg or do you need a minute?"

I looked into that bearish face and shuddered. "Let me catch my breath a sec," I replied hoarsely.

"Good. That will give me time to splint that arm," he said, moving off to find something with which to wrap up my arm.

"God, this is horrible," Heather sobbed, wiping my forehead. "I am so sorry!" Tears were once more flowing down her cheeks.

I reached up with my left hand to wipe the tears away. "You have nothing to be sorry about. You did exactly as you should have. There was nothing you could have done differently that would have changed the outcome this morning," I told her emphatically. Her head bowed, eyes on the floor. I lifted her chin, making her look me in the eyes. "Something you are going to have to learn with this world gone to hell is self-preservation. If you had not done as I told you, you would also have been mauled and more than likely eaten. For whatever reason, I apparently do not taste good to the savages. This is the second time that has saved me. I doubt you are so lucky given how they reacted when they smelled your fear. You need to start thinking along the lines of 'what do I have to do to survive?' Whatever the situation, that should be your first question. If you want to think about others second, that is fine. But you also need to start analyzing whether or not your helping them will actually help or just get you both killed. Today, helping me would have just gotten you killed."