Jimmie stared down at Dick in shock, blood gushing past Dick’s fingers, pushing against the base of his neck, hard at the open wound. The alien that had wounded Dick was lying dead in a pool of its own blood. Jimmie hesitated, seeing the pained expression on Dick’s face and the monstrous amount of blood.

But the scraping of claws behind him shook him from thoughts and he turned around quickly, his obsidian knife held in a comfortable grip. As he came around, he spotted an alien, moving hesitantly towards Jimmie. Jimmie dashed forward, taking the slow moving alien by surprise, puncturing its head and sliding out the knife in one firm movement. Jimmie glanced around, noting that there wasn’t many left, maybe three too four. He guessed that there was more underneath, but the fact that no more aliens had come from the stairway, either meant that they were careful or where running away.

He glanced down at the alien’s pistol, very small with no visible trigger. Jimmie couldn’t use his own rifle due to ammo shortage, so he quickly thought about using the aliens gun.

But he was shaken from thoughts as screaming aliens and the sound of their weird guns echoed to him. He dived to his right, feeling the vibrations from the bullet smack into the ground. Hitting the ground, Jimmie looked up, seeing two aliens sprinting towards him and one hiding behind the big pile of bodies.

Jimmie rolled up to his feet, knife held sideways in front of himself, scanning, estimating the weakest of the two aliens.

A moment later, he chose the left, the aliens back a little too straight, a little of balance. And as Jimmie jumped off, he managed to take two large leaps before the alien, in a panic, swiped its clawed hand against Jimmie. Jimmie dodged it easily, swiping his own blade at the outstretched arm, cutting deep and leaving a bloody gash, then quickly pushing the knife up, slashing the neck, blood spurting out at Jimmie.

The second alien took that moment to strike, jumping with a surprisingly fast jump, his claws held far in front of himself, as if it was scared to get close to Jimmie. Jimmie quickly bent back, falling down on his back, just managing to dodge the alien's claws.

The two smacked into each other, Jimmie immediately grabbing the two clawed hands at the wrists, surprising himself at how weak the alien felt. But the alien wasn’t about to give up, using its clawed legs to claw it the calf of Jimmies legs, leaving deep wounds that hurt like molten hell.

Jimmie screamed out, then quickly flexed his arms, ripping and tearing as hard as he could, dislocating, then breaking the two arms of the alien who screamed out, huffed out, then grew silent as it nodded off into a painful sleep, its clawed legs bloody and full of meat. Jimmie threw it off, stabbing the knife into its head to confirm the kill, then rolled to his left, away from the body.

He tried to get up to his feet, but the wounds in his legs made it impossible, feeling like burnt nails dragging him down. Jimmie instead looked up at the remaining alien, gun aimed at him. Jimmie started rolling, rolling fast as he could manage with his wounded legs, hearing the sounds of the alien gun smattering at the ground close behind him.

Then Jimmie rolled into something, forcefully stopping him, his head feeling dizzy and confused. He grabbed the something, and realised that it was a body, pulling it in front of him.

He just managed to bring it in front of himself just as a bullet hit the dead body in the arm, slowing its trajectory as it continued through and imbedded itself partway in Jimmies arm. Jimmie cursed loudly, then looked up at the alien, seeing it hiding as much of its body behind the dead alien corpses.

The alien held its aim squarely on Jimmie, seemingly trying to shoot, but couldn’t get out any bullets. And instead threw the gun to the ground, jumping up and over the pile of bodies, running on all four towards Jimmie.

Jimme pushed off the dead alien, noticing its gun lying underneath it. He grabbed it, then aimed it, the alien noticing and jumping to the side, straight into the railing, stopping itself, dazed and slightly groggy.

But after Jimmie had aimed, he tried to shoot it, but nothing happened, nothing felt right, no button or trigger seemed to comply with his attempts. It was just too small to fit in his hand, nothing about it seemed to work with his hand.

The alien shook its head free from dizziness, then looked down at Jimmie in a panic, then visibly breathing out in relief as it noticed Jimmie not capable of firing the gun. It started running again, mere meters in front of Jimmie.

Jimmie felt panic rising, and anger boiling, he felt so defeated even after killing so many aliens. He had done everything, yet this alien would kill him because of a stupid leg woundm it was all so unfair.

Jimmie used his anger, his boiling anger, and threw the alien gun with all his might. It launched with surprising speed, flying true. The alien, not having enough time to dodge, the gun hit the alien square in the face, a satisfying crunch and a loud bang followed as it hit the ground, gliding up to Jimmie.

It stopped a mere meter from Jimmie, not close enough for Jimmie stab, but close to see its prolonged face, nose flat on its face with its four wicked eyes. Jimmie tried to stand up, but felt the same pain bring him down. So instead he crawled, using his arms while he stared wildly at the alien.

The alien blinked, blood trickling from its broken teeth, its vision blurry and bad. It could just barely see Jimmie before Jimmie got close enough to embed his knife into the back of the aliens head. The aliens last thoughts being of fear.

As the knife stuck in the aliens skull, Jimmie looked around, doing a complete turn to see everything on top of the ship. And to his surprise and delight, he couldn’t see anymore living aliens.

Jimmie let his body fall down, letting go of the knife, still stuck in the alien's head and breathing, taking big gulps of the dry air, the bloody air. The sounds of alien screams still ringing in the air, but they were distant, aliens that Jimmie and Dick hadn’t killed instantly.

Then Jimmie’s eyes opened wide, remembering Dick.

His head darted to Dick’s position, and he wasn’t there.

He scanned around, then saw him, or his bloody trail, going further right, towards where Dick had left his backpack, were he had left his big gun.

As Jimmie’s eyes trailed down, he noticed Dick, crawling with one arm, the other pressed firmly against his neck, skin white and pale. He was crawling towards the bag, using every bit of strength he could muster.

When Jimmie saw this, he tried to stand up again, but his legs failed with a biting sensation. He clenched his teeth and closed his eyes, the pain tearing and hot, he then screamed.

“DICK! Are you okay!?”

He waited for an answer, then began crawling himself, moving towards Dick. And as the seconds passed with no response from Dick, he grew weary, then scared. Dick was still moving, but oh so slowly, each pull looking heavy and weak, slow and tired.

Jimmie crawled like his life depended on it, using every bit of strength his arms could muster. He clawed his way forward, pulling bodies to the side, hands growing bloodied from the battlefield. The pain from his legs was awful, each pull bringing with it suffocating pain, his teeth clenched and breathing hard. But he pushed that issue aside, mind fully focused on Dick.

Soon enough, he made it to him. Jimmie put a hand at Dick’s wound, pressing firmly but gently. And with his other hand, he reached for Dick’s bag, being just in grabbing distance. And as he did this, he spoke loudly.

“Dick, I’m here, calm down, keep still. It’s going to be okay. I-I got y-you”

Jimmie said, his voice going quieter, dimmer, starting strong, growing weak. His voice cracking and breaking.

His hand fished for the bag, and quickly dragged it to himself, his eyes darting from the bag, down to Dick. Dick was looking up at him, his mouth open, wheezing out wind, but no voice coming out. Jimmie choked as he saw that.

When the bag was close enough, Jimmie tore his eyes away from Dick and opened the bag with one hand, fumbling and feeling clumsy. Eventually got it opened, and then panicky fished around, searching for that gun that Rick had used on Chris.

He sneaked a peek down at Dick, seeing him looking up at Jimmie, his mouth closing and opening, his face pale and ghostly.

Jimme’s eyes felt hot, his legs felt hot, his mind was like a jumbled mess. He tried speaking softly, but his voice cracked and faltered.

“Is-is gon be ok. Your- gon be o-ohkey”

Then his hand felt something, it was gun shaped. He pulled it out and noted that it looked like the gun Rick had used, a weak smile came to Jimmie’s lips as he said.

“Dick, look, this will make you okay.”

He said, removing his own hand from Dick’s wound. The wound merely trickled blood now, dark red and weak. Jimmie shook his thoughts away and pressed the gun towards the opened wound, pressing the trigger, the sizzling confirming that the gun was working. Dick didn’t react much, merely closing his eyes, his mouth opened as if trying to say something.

Jimmie didn’t push the trigger to long against the wound, worried that Dick might faint from the pain, removing the gun. As he did, it immediately looked better, no blood flowing, no trickling, closed with a mending of flesh and burning scar.

Jimmie gulped, then tried speaking again.

“Dick, It’s o-okey no-now”

Dick didn’t respond, but he slowly opened his eyes, a tear rolling down one of them, looking up at Jimmie. Jimmie had to look away, then remembered the painkillers, saying.

“Hey Dick, dont worry, the pains gonna go away, I’ll give you something nice, dont worry”

Then fished around in the bag, searching for the needle, holding the painkillers. It was hard just feeling for the needle, having to look inside as he searched. Talking all the while, doing his best to keep Dick calm, to keep himself calm, something he didn’t even notice.

“This is all gonna be a bad nightmare, dont worry Dick, I’m here, I got you, I’m here-”

He found it after a few seconds of looking, throwing away other useless stuff. It was one needle and two vials, filled with the painkiller. Jimmie looked at the needle a little closer, noticing that it was already filled, and turned to Dick, pocketing the vials.

“Dick look, its gonna be better now”

He then, gently, pressed it into the fold of Dick’s arm, pressing in the needle, pushing out the liquid as he looked at Dick’s face. Dick’s looking back at Jimmie, pained and sad. Then his eyes slowly growed numb, face less pained, blank and expressionless. Jimmie choked as he saw it, his mouth tightening something fierce.

Then as Dick’s face completely went numb, staring at Jimmie with an expression that said he wasn’t really looking, Jimmie cried.

Bending down on top of Dick.