Hunted Ch. 09

Who knows how long it was before I came to. It was still raining heavily. I had a splitting headache and my vision was swimming. My body was killing me, and my injuries on my arm had reopened, gushing blood. "That's my blood. That's, a lot......of my blood," I said out loud, struggling to speak clearly and clear my head. I tried to stand up but couldn't. What the fuck? I thought. Then with horror, I thought, Am I paralyzed?! No. I noticed the log was on top of my legs, pinning me. Well that's a relief. I sat up as best I could, trying to ignore the pain, and looked around. Cody was conscious and lying on his stomach about 15 feet to my left, but on the verge of losing consciousness again. Liv was lying about 30 feet in front of me, still out cold. But where was Abrams? I strained, trying to look for him. I finally spotted him, about 50 feet away, walking towards Liv's unconscious body.

What was that in his hand? I squinted, trying to get rid of my double vision. Oh fuck! The machete! Shit, I've gotta get this thing off me! I tried multiple times to move the log, but couldn't. Fuck! What do I do? I looked over at Cody, hoping he would do something.

He was awake, struggling to get something out of his pocket. He finally got it and held it up for me to see.

The pistol! I thought happily. With his last remaining strength, Cody pushed it hard across the ground to me, before succumbing to his pain and losing consciousness, perhaps, but god forbid, possibly even dying. I had no way of knowing.

But there was no time to worry about that now. It stopped short of my reach. I grunted and strained, trying to reach it. Finally I grabbed it and took aim. This fucking headache and double vision was relentless! I had no idea how many shots there were remaining in the mag.

Abrams was standing over Liv's body, about to stab her. I struggled to concentrate, trying to drop him with a single, clean shot. I finally thought, Fuck it. It's now or never, take the shot! and pulled the trigger.

The first shot hit him in the arm, making him drop the machete. It stabbed into the ground inches from Liv's torso. He screamed in pain and bent over. I poured shot after shot into him. Every single one hit him. I must've shot about 7 or 8 bullets. He was yelling in agony, many gaping holes in him gushing blood. He turned around and tried to walk over to me, but eventually collapsed about 20 feet away.

With a massive effort, I rolled the log off my legs. I stood up shakily, and amazingly, my legs weren't broken, just heavily bruised and lacerated, along with the rest of my body. My ribs were another story though. All my clothes were wet and torn and covered in holes, as well as mud and dried blood, not all of it mine. My face was covered in 5 o'clock shadow and cuts and bruises too.

Dizzily, I walked over to where Abrams was lying. He was still holding the machete. He was coughing up blood and convulsing. He suddenly grabbed my leg and went to hack at it with the machete.

I was faster. I shot him once, the last bullet in the mag, followed by a dead man's click. The round hit him in the head. His head exploded, covering me in blood and brain matter, and he lay still, finally dead.

I just stood there, eyeing him wearily, before dropping the gun. I went through his pockets and found my phone, still intact and operational.

I stuck it in my pocket and walked over to Liv. She wasn't breathing. Sonofabitch! I thought, dropping to my knees. I wasn't sure what to do, but decided to try CPR. It took me several attempts of pumping her heart and mouth-to-mouth, but she finally gasped and opened her eyes.

"What the fuck happened?" she asked, upon seeing me kneeling next to her.

"Abrams is dead. I shot him. And Cody-oh shit! I need to see if he's alright!" I jumped up, completely forgetting about him. I ran over to where he was lying, Liv in pursuit.

He was lying on his stomach, still unconscious, perhaps dead. Like Liv, he wasn't breathing. I flipped him over and started administering CPR. It took longer than Liv, but he eventually came to, opening his eyes and groaning in pain.

Liv and I smiled in relief. "Welcome back," I said.

He groaned and shut his eyes. "Remind me to thank coach Kay for a fucking fantastic week."

I laughed as Liv turned my head and planted a kiss on my lips. All the emotions and stress and all that shit from the past week or so seemed to be put into the kiss. It was messy and very wet, mostly from all the dirt and sweat and dried blood, but it was good, lasting about 20 seconds. Cody laughed weakly and said, "Oh my god. I'm sore as fuck!"

Liv said, "Join the club," and stood up.

I said to Cody, "Are you alright? Can you walk?"

He attempted to stand, but his leg gave out. "Aw hell. I can't. I'll need help." I put his arm around my neck and supported him. Liv did the same with his other arm. We started walking and he said, "Damn! What the hell happened? All I remember is throwing you the pistol."

I didn't say anything, I just gestured to Abrams' bullet-riddled body. He noticed and swore. "Wow. I can't say he didn't have it coming."

We walked over to our original lean-to. I set Cody down gently. Liv went to work examining his injuries and doing what she could, completely ignoring her own.

I walked outside and pulled out the phone. I stood there for a minute, debating whether to call coach Kay or 911. I opted for 911, and soon had police and a medical airlift on the way.

They arrived within the hour, securing the scene and interviewing us. After some searching, they recovered the bodies of everyone. The three of us were presumably put on the chopper and medevac'd to the nearest hospital. I passed out before that. The whole ordeal had finally caught up with me. The last thing I remembered was being put on a stretcher, and my vision going white.

I woke up in a hospital bed the next day. I was battered and sore as hell. Looking around, I saw Liv in the bed next to me and Cody in the bed on the far side of her. We were all still in our same clothes, and we all still looked filthy. They were both awake and talking quietly. Cody noticed me and waved, "Hey buddy. Feeling better?"

I raised my hand to wave, grimacing from the pain, and noticed I had an I.V. needle in my arm. "Hey. I've been better." I laughed weakly and said, "You?"

"Same. I think it's safe to say we're all hurting."

"Hey, where's Nate?" I asked. Then I remembered. Oh shit. I can't believe it. He's really gone. I broke down, sobbing. Now that I had an outlet, all the emotional baggage I'd been bottling up over Nate's death came flooding out. "Holy shit! It just hit me. He's gone. He's gone! Ohhhh, FUCK!" The tears came gushing now.

Liv turned her head to look at me and said softly, "Shit, please don't cry! I hate seeing you like this! Listen to me. Matt. Look at me." I was balling and avoiding eye contact, but I forced myself to look at her. She continued, "There's nothing you could've done. He was too far gone. It's ok. He's home now, and he's not suffering anymore. Ok?"

I nodded and wiped my eyes. "It's just, that, I don't know. I can't believe he's dead. And because of that bastard. If he hadn't attacked us, Nate would still be alive right now. It's just unbelievable."

She started to reply, but stopped when nurse came in to check on us, followed by a cop. He stood there awkwardly, and spoke, "I'm sorry about all your friends. They're all in the morgue, being examined. Your families are on the way to visit you. They'll be here soon. And one more thing." He reached into his pocket and took out the dog tags of all the victims. "We found these on the bodies. We all agreed you should have them, to preserve this tragedy. So....uhhhh......who would like these?"

There was silence. Until Cody spoke, "I think Matt should. He killed the guy attacking us, and knew them the best out of us."

"I agree," Liv said simply. I just shrugged, trying to fight back more tears.

The cop stepped forward and placed the dog tags on my bedside table. "When you all feel up to it, we'll need you to I.D. the victims. Ok? There's no rush. Whenever you're ready. Again, my condolences." He nodded at us and left.

Slowly, I reached over and grabbed the dog tags, trying not to irritate my body any further. Nate's were on top. I took one look and started crying again, holding the chain with a death grip. I pounded the bed with my fist violently and screamed, "FUCK!!!!!!!" which helped. Liv and Cody just stared, not sure what to do. I collapsed on the bed, my anger gone, and continued crying quietly.

Our families arrived soon after. Naturally, each made a beeline for their respective children. My parents and younger sister, Nikki, were freaking out. I simply stared at them blankly and held up Nate's dog tags. "He's gone. Nate's gone. I can't believe it."

My mom said gently, "Honey, his funeral has been planned for next week. If you don't feel up to it, I-"

"No!" I said rather rudely. "I'm going. He was my best friend, and I will honor him as he passes. You insult me by suggesting otherwise."

Without warning, I jumped out of bed, startling my parents, who yelled at me, trying to get me back into bed. Ignoring them, and the intense pain, I walked over to Nate's parents and stood there, not sure what to say. His dad was sobbing openly. His mom (the MILF, remember?) seemed to be beyond tears. I simply held out the dog tags and said, "Here. These were Nate's. He'd want you to have them." With that, I started crying again.

His mom was now fighting tears and hugged me, covering her clean clothes in dirt and dried blood. In other circumstances, I'd probably rail her on the spot, but this was no time for that. "Thank you," she said simply.

I walked around to all the other families of the deceased and gave them their kids' dog tags. Most started crying.

Then the doctors came in and told us the damage. Cody had a broken leg and a minor concussion. I had several broken ribs and a major concussion. Liv was ok, except for a minor concussion. We were all filthy, covered in mud, blood, water, dirt, and all sorts of other shit, as well as cuts and bruises. Cody and I both had beards too.

We were released from the hospital later that week, and life went back to normal. Funerals were held for everyone that died. Harry Abrams was buried in an unmarked grave in Arlington cemetery. His service was the only one we didn't go to. Nate's was by far the worst, being the person we knew and liked the most out of the fallen. The 4 dead, Nate, Steve, Nick, and Bre, were all buried in the same cemetery.

We still don't talk about it. We're still trying to forget it. It turned out that the mental hospital that Abrams escaped from now has increased security and no longer accepts servicemen. Every year, on the anniversary of their deaths, the 3 of us have agreed to go to the graveyard and pay our respects. I still don't know how I survived. It could just as easily have been me lying in the coffin. Or Cody or Liv. I just hope this never happens to anyone else. The pain of losing a friend is unbearable, equal to losing a child or sibling. My mom was in a car accident in 1992 which killed my unborn sister, so I know what I'm talking about. The guy that hit her was high on PCP and served jail time. You really don't want firsthand experience like my parents or I had. This concludes the epic story of what went on during the survival course (which literally was a fight for survival). This is dedicated to all the families of fallen servicemen in any past or ongoing conflicts. God bless you all.