“Shit...” He was done for. He stumbled to a halt, and the collar beeped again. And again. And then Flak caught up with him and heard the sound, too. “Fuck!” Without further ado he threw Shrapnel to the ground and leaned over him, drawing a small knife in the process. The beeping continued.
Beeeep.... Beeeep....Beeeep....
“Fucking hell...” Flak fumbled with the knife at the collar, but it was dark, he was out of breath, and the speed of the beeping increased.
Beep...beep...beep...beep...
“Fuck, get off me, buddy!” Shrapnel tried to push him off, he knew he was done for, but there was no reason he should take the man with him who had tried to save his arse. “Get the fuck off me, that thing’ll kill us both!” “Fuck off!”
Beep beep beep beepbeepbipbipbipbipClick
Silence.
Both men emitted a gasp that was close to a sob and Flak dropped the knife with a shudder. “Fuck.” Shrapnel hadn’t got his speech back yet, he was just getting to grips with the fact that his head was still attached to his body. “Come on, buddy.” Flak took his arm to help him up, and Shrapnel let him drag him to his feet. He stumbled and his knees gave way. Flak grabbed his elbow to steady him. “Did you take the bag?” Shrapnel managed a nod. “It’s around here somewhere.” Flak trailed his foot out and around until he found it, then picked it up. “Need food? Water?” “Water.”
Flak offered him a bottle, but as Shrapnel let go of his arm to take it, his knees buckled away and he would have fallen hadn’t Flak grabbed his elbow again. “Shit.” He helped him carefully to sit down. “What’s the matter?” “What’s the matter?” Shrapnel dropped the bottle he was about to bring to his lips. “What’s the matter?” A high pitched giggle forced its way out of his mouth. “I’ve been enslaved, electrocuted, beaten within an inch of my sorry life, I’ve been almost castrated, almost beheaded and I’m going ice-cold from jet withdrawal, and you ask me what’s the matter?” He had no means with which to stop the cackling laugh that bubbled out of his throat. “Jesus Ch...christ on a... on a p...piece of toast...” “Stop laughing.” Flak’s voice sounded more than worried. Shrapnel couldn’t stop. “Stop it!” He just couldn’t. Flak grew desperate and slapped him. Somehow, it brought Shrapnel back to his senses. He gasped for air a few times and dropped his face in his hands. “Sorry, buddy, I... I can’t... I don’t think I can...” “It’s all right.” Flak slowly got up again, gathered up the bag and helped Shrapnel to his feet again. “We need to get further away, though. They could still find us. Can you walk?” “I’ll try.”
Flak kept on holding on to his elbow, and they made their way through the pitch-black darkness of the wasteland night, Shrapnel stumbling along and leaning more and more heavily on Flak’s arm until his legs finally gave way under him completely. Flak caught him, and with a low sigh, draped one of Shrapnel’s arms across his shoulder, then brought one of his around Shrapnel’s hips. With a heave and a grunt, he hoisted the other man onto his shoulders and, after staggering under the load for a moment, adjusted his bearings and continued his way until he reached a chain of hills.
He found a hollow between a few rocks, and only then realised that he could find it at all because dawn was already well underway. He crept inside, it was a bit much to call it a cave, but it was a shelter of sorts, would keep out the rain or dust and provide them with cover. After putting Shrapnel’s unconscious body down he settled down with his back against the rocks and picked him up again, settled him on his lap and rested his upper body against his own, with his head resting against his shoulder. Shrapnel was trembling, ice-cold and muttering unintelligible things under his breath. Flak, in turn, held on to him, knowing beyond doubt that the only way for them to go on now was toughing it out until Shrapnel was over the jet withdrawal. From all he had ever heard about the shit, he wasn’t too sure if that was even possible, but there was nothing else for them.
Shrapnel suddenly flinched and whimpered in a nightmare Flak could not wake him up from. “I got you, buddy”, he said in a low voice and ran a hand down Shrapnel’s back. “I got you.” x-x-x-x-x-x
Friends will be Friends 4b/8
And then Flak caught up with him and heard the sound, too. “Fuck!”
Without further ado he threw Shrapnel to the ground and leaned over him, drawing a small knife in the process. The beeping continued.
Beeeep.... Beeeep....Beeeep....
“Fucking hell...” Flak fumbled with the knife at the collar, but it was dark, he was out of breath, and the speed of the beeping increased.
Beep...beep...beep...beep...
“Fuck, get off me, buddy!” Shrapnel tried to push him off, he knew he was done for, but there was no reason he should take the man with him who had tried to save his arse. “Get the fuck off me, that thing’ll kill us both!”
“Fuck off!”
Beep beep beep beepbeepbipbipbipbipClick
Silence.
Both men emitted a gasp that was close to a sob and Flak dropped the knife with a shudder. “Fuck.”
Shrapnel hadn’t got his speech back yet, he was just getting to grips with the fact that his head was still attached to his body.
“Come on, buddy.” Flak took his arm to help him up, and Shrapnel let him drag him to his feet. He stumbled and his knees gave way.
Flak grabbed his elbow to steady him. “Did you take the bag?”
Shrapnel managed a nod. “It’s around here somewhere.”
Flak trailed his foot out and around until he found it, then picked it up. “Need food? Water?”
“Water.”
Flak offered him a bottle, but as Shrapnel let go of his arm to take it, his knees buckled away and he would have fallen hadn’t Flak grabbed his elbow again. “Shit.” He helped him carefully to sit down. “What’s the matter?”
“What’s the matter?” Shrapnel dropped the bottle he was about to bring to his lips. “What’s the matter?” A high pitched giggle forced its way out of his mouth. “I’ve been enslaved, electrocuted, beaten within an inch of my sorry life, I’ve been almost castrated, almost beheaded and I’m going ice-cold from jet withdrawal, and you ask me what’s the matter?” He had no means with which to stop the cackling laugh that bubbled out of his throat. “Jesus Ch...christ on a... on a p...piece of toast...”
“Stop laughing.” Flak’s voice sounded more than worried.
Shrapnel couldn’t stop.
“Stop it!”
He just couldn’t.
Flak grew desperate and slapped him. Somehow, it brought Shrapnel back to his senses. He gasped for air a few times and dropped his face in his hands. “Sorry, buddy, I... I can’t... I don’t think I can...”
“It’s all right.” Flak slowly got up again, gathered up the bag and helped Shrapnel to his feet again. “We need to get further away, though. They could still find us. Can you walk?”
“I’ll try.”
Flak kept on holding on to his elbow, and they made their way through the pitch-black darkness of the wasteland night, Shrapnel stumbling along and leaning more and more heavily on Flak’s arm until his legs finally gave way under him completely. Flak caught him, and with a low sigh, draped one of Shrapnel’s arms across his shoulder, then brought one of his around Shrapnel’s hips. With a heave and a grunt, he hoisted the other man onto his shoulders and, after staggering under the load for a moment, adjusted his bearings and continued his way until he reached a chain of hills.
He found a hollow between a few rocks, and only then realised that he could find it at all because dawn was already well underway. He crept inside, it was a bit much to call it a cave, but it was a shelter of sorts, would keep out the rain or dust and provide them with cover. After putting Shrapnel’s unconscious body down he settled down with his back against the rocks and picked him up again, settled him on his lap and rested his upper body against his own, with his head resting against his shoulder.
Shrapnel was trembling, ice-cold and muttering unintelligible things under his breath. Flak, in turn, held on to him, knowing beyond doubt that the only way for them to go on now was toughing it out until Shrapnel was over the jet withdrawal. From all he had ever heard about the shit, he wasn’t too sure if that was even possible, but there was nothing else for them.
Shrapnel suddenly flinched and whimpered in a nightmare Flak could not wake him up from.
“I got you, buddy”, he said in a low voice and ran a hand down Shrapnel’s back. “I got you.”
x-x-x-x-x-x