Olivia was watching Robin, and he knew she was, yet he didn’t stop what he was doing, his bare upper body shining with sweat as he ducked and dodged around the fists his opponent threw at him.
Robin had yet to try to hit the man, but despite that, he was exhausted, and his movements were starting to slow down, so Robin decided to end it. He dropped the ground, and scissored his legs between the opponents, then moved both of his legs, the movement sending his exhausted opponent to the ground where he was unable to stand.
Robin quickly stood up and dusted himself off, removing the rather tight helmet he had on his face, along with his gloves, boots, and shin guards. He walked over to his back, and withdrew a small towel and shirt, before putting his gear into the bag. They barely fit, and he evidently had to push quite hard to make sure the bag was able to close, but eventually it did, and he sat down on the bench, drying himself off with the towel, and sliding the shirt on, before turning around and acknowledging Olivia’s presence.
He didn’t actually say anything, instead he simply lifted his hand up in a gesture of greeting, before climbing up the stairs towards the seat that Olivia was sitting in. Once he sat down, Olivia said quietly, “I knew you said you were good, but I thought it was just bragging. Or trying to impress me.”
“I don’t brag very often, Dr. Wilde, but I will admit, I did say it mostly to impress you.” Robin smiled, and put his arm around Olivia’s shoulders.
She leaned into it, and said quietly, “I thought I told you, I’m not a doctor yet. I still need to finish medical school, and then my residency. And I know I told you to call me Olivia.”
“You did.” Robin looked at her with a lazy smile, then stood up. “Well, I’m off, I’ll see you in a few days.”
Olivia nodded, and then said to Robin, “Good luck.”
“I don’t need luck or fate. I make my own future.” Robin smiled. “But thank you for the sentiment."
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In the moment, I knew what I had to do of course, but now thinking back on it, it was decidedly moronic and there were almost a half a dozen much smarter things I could have done to kill the horde. I could have used the remainder of my arrows, or my bullets, but no. I grabbed the rebar pipe and ran into the horde.
Within half a second, I was covered in blood, and almost none of it was mine. The main place I was bleeding from was my knuckles where I’d repeatedly bashed them into the skulls of Bleeders, killing a few of them, but mostly trying to keep the rest of them away from me.
And then I would follow up with a rebar pipe to the skull. Within moments, my heart was pumping fast enough that I thought it would burst out of my chest, and I was drenched from head to toe in sweat, but I was standing on a pile of bodies, and as more and more bleeders tried to reach me, they too became part of the pile.
Eventually, it became so tall that I was able to stand atop it, and see beyond the horde. I still had no idea what Muramasa was doing, however I hoped he was making his way up to where Olivia and Zack were.
But I could afford to look behind me. I couldn’t afford to check, lest I face my own mortality. And that is not something I’m prepared to do yet. As I thought, a Bleeder managed to climb its way up the corpses of its brethren, and I growled, striking out at it, and watching with some satisfaction as the body fell and hit the ground, knocking down a half a dozen other Bleeders.
And then I looked behind me to check on Muramasa and saw him, silently fighting the dozens that had made it past me, and were targeted onto him. I growled, reached into my pocket to grab something, then stopped, took my hand out, then put it back in.
From my pocket I grabbed a lighter, just this small little device, not very useful for fighting one or two bleeders, but for this scenario, it was perfect. I looked at Muramasa and wordlessly gestured up.
He nodded, and started running for the wall, as did I and we both began climbing it. I only climbed about five feet before I started making my way towards the fire escape. Muramasa on the other hand climbed over a dozen, using his sword to carve small gaps where he could place his feet, and his hands could grip onto.
Of course he took far longer to reach the top than I did, as I was using a staircase, instead of climbing a wall. But I knew that he would make it to the top. He reminded me of myself. A fighter. Not the type of person to die from a mistake like falling off of a wall.
Once I was at the top I took off my vest, grabbed a handful of my shirt, and tore it off, unfortunately making my shirt more of a jacket. My other hand was still holding the lighter, so I crouched down, my body shielding the fire from the wind. Even still it took a couple of tries to get it right, mostly because the wind would keep blowing it out every time I stood up.
By the time I finally got it I had realized that it would probably be an intelligent idea to light the middle of the thing, and not the outside. Within moments I held a steadily smoking, and slowly heating up a piece of cloth.
Rapidly I wound it up around the first arrow I pulled out of my quiver and aimed for the center most Bleeder below. I waited for a while, until the flame had firmly taken hold of the cloth, and then I emptied the lighter fluid onto the arrow.
It exploded upwards in a very rapid burst of flame, and I jumped backwards, cursing and shaking my hand rapidly. I took a deep breath, and then murmured to myself, “It doesn’t hurt Robin. Nothing hurts, remember, nothing hurts…”
I took another deep breath then grabbed the arrow, admittedly it was as far as I possibly could from the flaming tip, but I still grabbed the arrow and drew it back. A strange phantom sensation spread across my hand,
I’d realized this a while ago. These bleeders burn like gasoline. Their skin has little to no moisture, and they simply just don't have the capacity to think to attempt to extinguish the fire. I looked back with some satisfaction, and saw nothing but terrified faces behind me. I frowned, and was about to ask what was wrong, when I realized something. I looked down below, and in half an instant, my face was as white as a sheet of paper.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Below, there were half a dozen barrels of gasoline. And the now flaming horde was walking directly around them. “Well then,” I muttered. “That’s problematic.” I turned back, and a boom sounded below me.
I turned back immediately to see a wave of fire exploding around me, and the blast sent me flying backwards. And then everything faded to black.
----------------------------------------
When I opened my eyes, I was lying in Olivia’s doctor tent, next to the guy I had seen before. The one who had broken his arm. Unlike the first time he was sitting up, and he appeared to be fairly fine.
I myself slowly sat up, wincing at pain that wasn’t there. It’s funny how the mind works. Even after almost nine years of not feeling pain, the mind still expects there to be some. In fact, the only thing that really hurts me anymore is fire.
As I sat up, the big man beside me reached behind him to grab something, but I quickly lost interest, when I saw that I was chained to the bunk they had laid me down on. Angrily I turned on the man and hissed, “What is this? What,” I roared, jerking my arms against the chains. “Is the purpose of this?!”
To his credit the man looked slightly ashamed, but he still didn’t move to undo the chains, or to let me up from the bed. I growled and with my right hand, grabbed the wrist of my left hand, and pulled, both of my arms going in the same direction.
There was a creaking sound, and I smiled in satisfaction. I felt a little trickle of blood going down my hand, but I pulled again. There was another creaking noise, louder this time, and the big man said, “Stop. You’re hurting yourself. Stop!”
I completely ignored him, pulling on the chains again, and this time, the wood that the chain was bolted to, gave in completely. Both the chain and the chunk of wood it was connected to were pulled free from the plank, and they were sent over the bunk, above my head, and would have smacked the big man in the head, if I had not grabbed the chain and stopped it from going forward any more.
I smiled at him just a little bit sardonically, then repeated the process on my right arm. Albeit a lot faster. This time I knew how hard to pull so I could break it off in two strikes this time. Fortunately, it appeared as though no one had noticed that their prisoner was in the process of attempting to escape.
The second my right arm was free, I scrambled out of the tent, yanking the chains forward, and grabbing them by the links just before the thin plank of wood. And with blood still pouring down my hands, I strolled out to see Zack with this big bulky shotgun in his hands.
He looked at me surprised, then back down at his gun, before he lifted it up, pointing straight at my face, and then I whispered, “Don’t.”
He paused for a moment, and that was enough. I leapt into the air, turning horizontal as I did, so that there was a very small portion of my moving body that he could hit with his shotgun. To his credit the kid had fast reflexes. The instant his mind had registered that I was moving, he had pulled the trigger, but by then, I was far out range of his gun.
Despite not getting hit by a bullet, the blast directly into my ear was crazy disorienting, and I almost faltered. But I didn’t. As I had leapt, I let go of the plank, and now with the spinning motion I had done, the plank smashed into the back of the kid’s knee. I don’t think it hit hard enough to leave permanent damage, but it definitely hurt him, as evidenced by his scream of pain, and him falling to the ground.
The second I landed, however I didn’t take any chances, I grabbed the shotgun out of his hand, and blasted one of the poles to Olivia’s doctor tent. I heard cursing inside as the shape of the big burly man was revealed to have been trying to sneak towards me and knock me out from behind.
I didn’t pay any more attention to him, and now with the kid’s shotgun in my hands, I thumped him on the side of the head with the handle. Again, I don’t think I left any permanent damage, but I wasn’t sure.
Regardless, I stood up, and started to walk towards the edge of the building, but rapidly I heard talking, and the sound of metal drawing across leather. I knew the sound. I’d made it several times myself.
I turned around to see Muramasa smiling at me. “I see your awake Archer.”
I sighed exasperatedly. “My name is Robin.”
“Do I look like the kind of man who cares?”
I looked at him, and sighed rather exasperatedly. “No. But I do care.” I lifted the shotgun in my hands. “My name is the last piece of me that I have left from the before times. And if it is my request that you use that when you talk to me, then you sure as hell better believe that you’re going to use that when you talk to me.”
He growled. “And what makes you think that I’ll listen to what a madman like you wants.”
“Because you’re afraid of me.” I smiled wickedly. “One madman to another, I can see fear. I know what it looks like. I breed it. Anyone who meets me is either foolish, or afraid. And you’re not foolish. So you muramasa are afraid of me. I wonder why?”
Muramasa had visibly paled as I talked, but now I could see some sort of a plan forming in his head. And in the reflection of his blade. A man stood. Not one from this group, I could see that Muramasa had no idea who he was. I didn’t bother turning around to kill him. I recognized the gun he held in his hand. It was one of the sheriff's men.
And he would die like the rest. Silently, I pointed the shotgun behind me, and over my shoulder. He barely had time to breathe before I pulled the trigger. What remained of his head fell off the edge of the building, and into the crowd of Bleeders below.
Then very slowly, his body toppled off the building too. The excited screeching told me everything I needed to know about what was happening to the man's body. I’d seen it far too many times to want to see it again.
Instead I watched Muramasa’s eyes slowly widen before he rather angrily stowed his sword back into the scabbard. I stared into his eyes for just a moment longer, before the big man came charging out of the tent he had managed to extricate himself from.
The kid was also waking up right about now, so it looks like nothing really bad happened to him. He’ll probably have a headache for a few days, but his mom’s a doctor, he should be fine. If anything did happen, it can’t have been too traumatic.
Although, judging by how quickly he stood up and the look of anger on his face, it probably hurt quite a bit. All three people stopped however when I leveled the shotgun directly in the center of the three approaching people. “I don’t want to hurt anybody…” I started, but Zack interrupted me, angrily saying, “That’s funny, I just saw you smack me over the head knocking me out for no reason…”
“You were about to shoot me!” The kid opened his mouth as if to say something, then shut up. “Now as I was saying,” I continued, “I wish none of you harm, in fact, if you’d let me, I’d like to help you guys.”
This time it was Muramasa who spoke. “Why?”
“Why? Because I promised.”
Muramasa frowned in confusion, but I continued talking as if I had given the most rational answer in the universe. “Now, to do that, I need my stuff. Which you took from me when you chained me to a cot. So where’s my stuff?”
Muramasa rather angrily stalked away, going to what I could only assume was his tent, and coming out with a duffle bag, filled with everything that had been on me when I was knocked out. I quickly put everything back on, my quiver, my belt with the gun still in the holster, and then grabbed my bow and started putting everything back into their respective pockets. Knife goes just above my heart, my ammo goes into the small pouch, though admittedly there wasn’t much of it left.
Of course I still had one of my quivers filled about halfway with arrows. So a good fifteen shots. I turned to the group, and asked, “Great, now would you like me to save you folks?”