The Rising
Gustav
No. No, there couldn’t be that many. Of course not. That was ridiculous! My heart pounded hard against my chest-I was almost afraid that it could be heard. I fingers wandered to the piece of pipe tucked into my backpack. I pulled it out carefully and quietly before shifting my gaze to Reinhardt.
“What do we do?” I asked him quietly, returning my gaze to the zombies milling about. God, what revolting creatures.
“Well, there are three options as far as I can see. We can either go back the way we came, we can fight out way through and hope we can make it or…” Reinhardt trailed off. I could almost hear the frown in his voice.
“Or?”
“Or we can waltz right through and hope they don’t realize we’re not zombies.”
Well, then. Those were terrible options. Running back the way we came would get us nowhere-and there was no way in hell I was staying in that damned cave again. Even if fear had caused me to see more zombies than there actually were, there were still too many for just the two of us. And frankly, pretending to be a zombie seemed like a stupid idea. As if they were that stupid.
I turned my gaze to Reinhardt again, meeting his usual emotionless steel gray eyes. “So which will it be, kid? Retreating, fighting, or hoping our acting skills are good enough to allow us our lives?”
“…Honestly I don’t like either. But…We have to keep pushing forward.” I took a deep breath, tightening my grip on the piece of pipe. “So I’d have to say…Fight our way through.”
Reinhardt looked at me for a moment before his usual annoying smirk took over his expression, “I like your moxie, kid.”
Moxie? I squinted at him curiously. That…didn’t make sense. Who used that word? And…Nothing made sense. His very being made no sense. His clothes, the way he talked, his emotions…
And what about how we’d met? What about after passing out I woke up in a plane instead of the field? …What about Justin, Alfreda, and Colette?
“Reinhardt…Do you know what happened to my friends?”
“Your…friends? What are you talking about?” He asked, sounding confused.
“Alfreda, Justin and Colette. The people I was with before we got separated-”
“Gustav…There was no one but us.” He frowned, a brief shimmer of worry entering his eyes.
“B-But…But the plane-”
“I already told you, kid, there was no plane. You hit your head when you fainted. Both times, actually.” Reinhardt leaned against the butt of his gun, studying me closely. “Those people don’t exist, kid. They’re all in your head.”
They…didn’t exist? But…how could that be? How…How was that possible? “O-Oh…” I bit my lower lip, pushing those thoughts from my head.
“We better get going then. I’d like to have an actual house to sleep in tonight,” he remarked, straightening his posture and shooting me a glance. I nodded quietly and followed him towards the valley quickly.
…How could they have been all in my head?
“What do we do?” I asked him quietly, returning my gaze to the zombies milling about. God, what revolting creatures.
“Well, there are three options as far as I can see. We can either go back the way we came, we can fight out way through and hope we can make it or…” Reinhardt trailed off. I could almost hear the frown in his voice.
“Or?”
“Or we can waltz right through and hope they don’t realize we’re not zombies.”
Well, then. Those were terrible options. Running back the way we came would get us nowhere-and there was no way in hell I was staying in that damned cave again. Even if fear had caused me to see more zombies than there actually were, there were still too many for just the two of us. And frankly, pretending to be a zombie seemed like a stupid idea. As if they were that stupid.
I turned my gaze to Reinhardt again, meeting his usual emotionless steel gray eyes. “So which will it be, kid? Retreating, fighting, or hoping our acting skills are good enough to allow us our lives?”
“…Honestly I don’t like either. But…We have to keep pushing forward.” I took a deep breath, tightening my grip on the piece of pipe. “So I’d have to say…Fight our way through.”
Reinhardt looked at me for a moment before his usual annoying smirk took over his expression, “I like your moxie, kid.”
Moxie? I squinted at him curiously. That…didn’t make sense. Who used that word? And…Nothing made sense. His very being made no sense. His clothes, the way he talked, his emotions…
And what about how we’d met? What about after passing out I woke up in a plane instead of the field? …What about Justin, Alfreda, and Colette?
“Reinhardt…Do you know what happened to my friends?”
“Your…friends? What are you talking about?” He asked, sounding confused.
“Alfreda, Justin and Colette. The people I was with before we got separated-”
“Gustav…There was no one but us.” He frowned, a brief shimmer of worry entering his eyes.
“B-But…But the plane-”
“I already told you, kid, there was no plane. You hit your head when you fainted. Both times, actually.” Reinhardt leaned against the butt of his gun, studying me closely. “Those people don’t exist, kid. They’re all in your head.”
They…didn’t exist? But…how could that be? How…How was that possible? “O-Oh…” I bit my lower lip, pushing those thoughts from my head.
“We better get going then. I’d like to have an actual house to sleep in tonight,” he remarked, straightening his posture and shooting me a glance. I nodded quietly and followed him towards the valley quickly.
…How could they have been all in my head?