Fault Line
- Locked due to inactivity on Aug 4, '16 4:18pm
Thread Topic: Fault Line
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Once it was all over, Camilla and her parents had gone to a town meeting. A couple men from the military were there looking for recruits. Her heart skipped a beat, knowing this was her one and only chance.
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After Lisa had fallen asleep, Charlie's mind drifted off, back to Alden. He was hurt, injured from being shot. Where was he shot? He needed to get medical care quick... If only he could do something to help him. It was torture knowing he couldn't protect him.
A bright side to the afternoon was since Lisa tagged along, people toned down on insulting him. Mainly because they didn't want to confuse or hurt the little girl, though Charlie found it to be a nice relief. -
They pressed forward for hours, the terrain never changing. The pack of seven set up camp by a river just as the sun was just about in the center of the sky.
"Let me see that," the older soldier with the gruff voice, Joey, pointed towards Alden's wound.
"Okay..." Alden held out his arm. Joey gently unwrapped it, grimacing that the sight. "The bullet's in deep."
"I know that," Alden replied solemnly. He desperately wanted to take a knife and cut the bullet out, but he knew it would do anything but make things better.
"The flesh is starting to heal around the bullet. We need to get that out of you soon," Joey said, his voice riddled with concern.
Alden nodded. "I was hoping one of the other companies in the area might have a medic with them." Joey just shook his head sadly.
No. They didn't have any surgeons. Alden had not but a clue of what to do.
"They have some surgeons over in America. We should find you a plane." With that, Joey wrapped the wound up again and walked off to the fire where the men were brewing tea with leaves and water from the brook.
Alden leaned back against a large rock and sighed. Finding a plane... in this wreck of a land? That would be nearly impossible.
After tea time, the group set off once more until they reached a small town; surprisingly the town that Alden had grown up in. There was a small airport on the west side, according to his memories of the place. If he could reach it, then maybe someone would be able to fly him to America, that is, if there was anyone left to do so. -
Charlie started to fall asleep himself, trying to think thoughts as mundane and calm as he could. Slipping into the clutches of rest, he could see many familiar sights, from before the war started. His home, the sun shining brightly in the middle of summer as the fields were covered in sunflowers and corn. Everything having a warm hue of yellow.
He saw his Alden, lovely and wonderful as ever. He smiled and laughed with him, not having a care in the world. The touch of skin against skin when their hands laced together, or when their lips met, melted his heart. He got so lost in the dream that he thought it was reality.
"Alden...you're here." He smiled, running his fingertips over his cheek. The other just smiled without response. "I'm never going to let you go, ever again..." Charlie inched closer, wrapping his arms around him tightly. "Never..." -
After one had given a long winded speech about why they should sign up, he asked all those willing to form a single file line. Camilla stood up without a second thought, standing behind a rather tall male around her age.
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Alden made his way through the vacant streets, his footsteps echoing between the buildings. He walked with a purpose. He'd rather leave sooner than have to stay here another night.
Soon enough, he reached the airport. The red wind catcher up on the roof billowed in the wind. There was a small commuter jet parked on the runway. He could just barely make out a man leaning against the side of it, smoking a cigarette. Alden couldn't help but wonder how he'd gotten his hands on such a rarity.
"Can I help you?" the man called, noticing Alden watching him. He took a step towards the confused young man, taking in the rifle slung over his shoulder and the dirtied, bloodied uniform. The boy's chocolate brown hair was a mop on his head, tangled and knotted, sticking to his face with the aid of dry blood and sweat.
"Yes," Alden replied, blinking. "I need to get to America for medical care. Could you take me?"
The pilot furrowed his brow, dropping his cigarette onto the cracked concrete. He pressed the heel of his boot onto the still smoking roll, grinding it into the ground until the streamline of smoke disappeared. "Sure thing. I've got barely enough fuel. If you're willing to risk it, why the hell not?" -
Ello?
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Sorry, one sec. .3.
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:3 'Tis okie. I was mostly asking because I left for a while to do my chores and I wanted to see if you were all still here.
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.3. I'm so lost.
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Dx Oh, lordie. I'm sorry, Ozze.
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Bweh. .3.
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D: Now what.
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I dunno. I'm just so confused
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People are on, yes? x3
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