Blind Man's Bluff - Chapter 39

Blind Man's Bluff

ladyredms

Nothing could dampen Ellis' determination. He was bursting with energy, like the weight of the chainsaw lashed to his back lightened him, and he confidently slogged forward at the head of the group as what had been fairly flat ground began to melt into soggy, dipping marshes. The fog thickened, making it harder to see and disguising puddles that he tromped through without a care.

He trooped through the pain that every step sent stabbing up his spine, thinking it'd get easier if he just pushed through it - and it did, a little, as his adrenaline peaked and numbed some of it.

The zombies had started appearing in the misty swamps the moment they left the redneck's clearing. Ellis knew he still had a stash of bullets for his shotgun in the pockets of his coveralls, but he let the thing stay strapped to his shoulder and stuck underneath the bulk of his chainsaw, using his axe instead.

The four scrambled through a patch of thick shrubs, on alert. It was hard to see the infected before they attacked, the mist obscuring their slumped and sometimes sitting forms within bramble and emaciated trees, and it lent a very claustrophobic sense to their surroundings. It took a lot of effort to keep track of where they were, following parallel to the river as it dipped and curled.

The air was humid and unpleasant, making them all huff, and Nick scowled as a mosquito smacked straight into his cheek. He wiped it off with a grunt, jogging swiftly just behind Coach and Rochelle. Ellis swore the conman's gaze kept slanting up toward him.

Ellis grinned, feeling that little jump of his heartbeat he'd started to experience under the survey of those green eyes, and looked forward again to watch his steps over the musky ground.

It made him move a little faster, determined not to give into the pain threatening up his spine with each step. Looking weak in front of Nick was a secondary concern only to this loyal sense that he had a responsibility now to keep what was between them - whatever that was - secret. Nick's stress that morning had solidified that much in his head; he wasn't about to give into the pain and make it worse.

"I told y'all this was just like them zombie movies!" Ellis called breathlessly over his shoulder, grinning, oblivious as usual. "Can't believe we're in a swamp! If them zombies don't get us, the blood farmers will, man.."

"Doesn't the comedic relief always die early on in movies?" Nick shot back, grunting as he ignored the latter part of Ellis' comment. He was keeping surprisingly close to the group compared to his usual tendency to hang back, Ellis noticed - he cracked a bit of a smile at the observation.

'He's warming up' was nicer to think than just 'he doesn't want to get lost in the swamp,' even if Ellis knew better.

Rochelle snorted as she high-stepped it over a particularly deep-looking puddle in the grass with a small hand from the ever-watchful Coach. "Erm.. Blood farmers, sweetie?"

"Yeah, Ro'. That crazy guy back there was just the start. We ain't hit real swamp country yet! They eat people 'n shit out here."

He heard Coach snort behind him, the big man sounding a little disbelieving. He was using his shovel as idle support, like a walking stick, the sharp-edged scoop digging into the ground with every other step. "Son, you ain't right in the head.."

Ellis shook his head, turning about on the thick heels of his workboots to walk backwards and illustrate the words pointedly with the head of his axe. "Naaww, man! Muh buddy Keith met some once! See, he was tryin' tuh -"

His story cut itself off at a sharp "Overalls, look out!" from Nick. The Georgian twisted around with a slightly burdened wobble under the load of his chainsaw coupled with the rigidity of his pained lower body, startled to see -

nothing.

He scrunched his brows slightly, turning his head a bit to squint in either direction into the marshy surroundings, wielding his axe with flexing fingers. Ellis gave in as Rochelle started to laugh, rotating his head and pushing out his lower lip in a confused expression at the conman.

Nick was smirking for the first time in a half hour, swinging his crowbar in idle circles with an expertly turning wrist. "Keep focused on the whole 'walking' thing or you will get jumped, Ay-lus."

Ellis felt a warmth dart over the bridge of his nose as he realized he was being made fun of, re-facing forward with a quick tightening of his fingers on his axe. "I-I was payin' attention! Just warnin' y'all..."

The Southern drawl Nick mocked him with was a strange mix of hilarious and embarrassing, and there was an intensity behind it that made Ellis' face heat up. He felt like there was something past the bluster of the insult, like it might've been affectionate at the source.

He felt that often.

"This swamp is creeping me out." Rochelle admitted in a low tone, adjusting her grip on her skillet. "I hope you guys are sure about this whole thing... I still think we might've been better off turning around.."

Nick scoffed, shaking his head solidly as he avoided some knee-high brambles, grousing wordlessly under his breath. "Toward what, Ro'? You think it would've gotten better going backwards?"

She shrugged her shoulders, glancing back at him with a small frown. "I didn't argue, did I? I just can't help but wonder if we're making a mistake... what if they had more evacs set up and we went the wrong way?"

Coach sighed lightly, shaking his head and speaking up before the visibly riled Nick could retort. "We had to make a choice, baby girl." The conman just glanced off to the side, unbothered to be pushed out of the argument.

Ellis grinned a little as his boots sloshed through a puddle, something distinctly squishing underfoot, glancing over his shoulder again and piping up optimistically. "We'll make it fine, Ro'! 'N we're goin' tuh the beach. Ain't that neat?"

She smiled at him, laughing with a shake of her head as she lifted up a hand to wipe over her forehead. A heavy sigh passed her lips, gesturing her frying pan around to their surroundings. "Ellis, you are crazy ... how can you think about the beach right now? I think I'm growing moss in my lungs.."

He chuckled a bit, hearing a snarl a few feet to the side and turning to face it, axe going up defensively. His voice kept a ramble even as he hacked clumsily at the onrushing zombie, catching it right in the shoulder and nearly lopping off a good portion of its neck. His breath huffed a little around his words, the pain stinging along his pelvis making it a little hard to start back walking after the zombie was dead.

"It ain't that hard. I ever tell y'all 'bout the time muh buddy Keith stuck himself in a freezer fer like an hour? He spent the whole time thinkin' of fires'n'shit tuh try and warm up. 'Pparently it really helped! ... 'course, now that I'm thinkin' 'bout it, that might'uh been the hy-po-thermia.. man, cold burns over ninety five percent of his body. Would'uv lost fingers iffin he hadn't'uh curled up around his hands!"

"You're both total nutcases." Nick muttered as he smacked a branch away from his face, unpleasantly cringing his brows as the slimy feel of waterlogged wood clung to his skin. Ellis was startled by the next phrase - sure, the conman had humored him last night when they were alone, feeding into his stories and honestly listening.. but he hadn't expected it to continue.

"Why the hell was he even in a freezer?"

Ellis felt his face light up, adjusting his cap carefully and raising his voice with a hitch of laughter, grinning. "He wanted tuh figure out if he could live in Alaska. It was one'uh them - uh - trial runs."

Rochelle released a loud laugh, almost startled, shaking her head in disbelief.

Coach grunted a bit, scruffled features drawing into a slight grin even as he pushed forward into the swamp. His bum knee gave him some difficulty on the rough terrain, but the eldest was never one to give in to difficulty. "Gotta give him credit... he's darin'."

"That's a.. nice way to put it." Nick snorted slightly, making Ellis laugh.

He stepped up to a fallen log crossing over their path, gingerly climbing over it with a wince stifled into his shoulder. It honestly did hurt, and having to bend up to clamber over it knocked the wind out of him.

He stumbled getting off, and he thought Nick noticed. He felt that little prickle of awareness as a gaze locked onto him, but there wasn't time to get questioned. As his boots settled down in the sagging ground on the other side, a strained "uurrrhbbh" groaned a few feet to the side.

Ellis quickly moved to get his footing, bracing himself with one hand on the log and the other lifting his axe up.

Stumbling out from the enshrouding mist around them was the bloated, almost bubbly shape of a zombie Ellis immediately recognized from the inside of the van he'd cracked open in Savannah. It staggered through the water on wobbly legs, stubby arms swinging to keep up momentum, the putrid skin of its frame stretched over billowing lard.

"Awwh, gross!" he complained with a slight edge of giddiness, backing up and straightening his cap as the thing moaned with a burp and seemed to eye him, its already questionable gait slowed by the swamp it was mired in. "It's that thing again, Nick.."

He was quickly joined by the other three, vaulting over the log, Coach only with some difficulty. Less, Ellis swore, than he had. "Egh.." the conman muttered with a crinkled nose, looking ill as he inspected the thing's unhurried staggering. "Someone want to shoot it?"

Rochelle started to pull out her pistol from the holster at her hip, brows lifting as she moved to aim at it. She found herself laughing just a little, hesitating. "You don't want to give it a little hug, Nick?"

The conman rolled his eyes, firmly asserting as he took a few steps back, "No way I am getting near that fat-ass... no offense, Coach.."

The big man started to turn his head toward Nick, expression scrunching into a look of dry unamusement. "Boy, watch yo'se-"

That was precisely when the zombie decided to vomit, whole body shuddering with the effort to throw forward its head and spray over what must've been feet of distance. All four of them shouted out in one horrified sound, and they scattered to try and get away from the fluid.

"Oh, fucking tits!" was Nick's utterly disgusted outburst as he got his feet under himself and desperately checked himself for splatter. He looked about ready to burst something, flushing with agitation. "Of all the goddamn zombies -!"

Coach shook a chunky mess off his arm, looking sickened before glancing up to see that the zombie had disappeared into the mists when they'd jumped away. He took in a heavy breath and shook his head, disgusted at the stench. "That is so damn nasty..."

"Oooh, why didn't we shoot faster.." Rochelle whined a little, shaking her hands squeamishly even though they'd all pretty much escaped the vomit - or the worst of it, at least. "I don't even remember CEDA talking about a puke zombie."

Ellis chuckled, pulling at his shirt to shake off a bit of blowback that had struck the fabric, wrinkling his nose at the steaming green mess that was splattered on the grass and the smell it was letting off. "At least we're already gross, huh?..."

"Getting puked on by a goddamn zombie is not my idea of a good time... what the fuck kind of defense is that?!" Nick fumed, fanning his face to try and flush some of the stench from his still-bruised nose. He backed away from the vomit-stained ground, growling, "Goddamnit.. let's just.. keep going."

He halted to the suddenly piercing sound of approaching shrieks, rising up in a directionless echo that seemed to come from all sides - or maybe it did.

"Uhh.." Ellis started, tensing up as he lifted his head to look around. The sound was quickly growing louder, reverberating off each other above their heads like conflicting waves meeting in frothing crashes. "That kind..?"

"Shit." Rochelle cursed loudly, grabbing tight to her frying pan in one hand and her pistol in the other. She set off at a sprint, vaulting this way and that to make it over the uneven, marshy ground. "Run!"

Ellis could tell right off the bat it was a bad idea - the pain of running that hard rose up in gnawing, straining flickers, faster than the adrenaline could. His vision threatened to blur, forcing him to focus on the colors and shapes of the other three and chase after them.

The horde came like a flood of hungry wolves, sprinting out from the mist and skidding to sprint in their footsteps. Ellis knew he was lagging behind, whimpering as he forced himself to turn, hacking behind himself with the axe. He felt it connect with something with a squelch, quickly returning his focus to not tripping.

"Is runnin' really a good choice?!" Coach shouted, voice gruff and severe, the collision of his shovel with a zombie's body audible as it crushed bones.

"I'm sure as fuck not stopping!" was Nick's yelled response. "There's too fucking many!" Ellis tried to work up the breath to say something - but he didn't have any, this numbness settling in under the pain the work was putting into his body. His eyes were tearing up, weight flinging into each step just to manage.

A hand clawed at his shoulder, stumbling him, and he barely swiped his axe back in time to split the hunting arm from its body before its sharp fingers dug in. For the first time he regretted dragging the chainsaw with - it made everything harder, and the weight of it was jamming into the dip of his lower back and grinding in the pain.

His workboots sailed over puddles and rocks, catching here and there and threatening repeatedly to trip him up as the discomfort left him breathless.

When something grabbed hold of his shirt, clawing into the flesh of his back and tugging, he just collapsed forward into the ground, hitting hands and knees hard. The zombie bowled over him, scratching for his face, but the bulk of his chainsaw kept it almost at arms' length.

Ellis tried to shake it off, pushing with his shoulders, but all that did was make it claw harder. Another one joined it with a thud that nearly prostrated him, and Ellis felt like he was going to be dogpiled and devoured within moments.

White suddenly flashed into his field of vision, so startling and abrupt he thought he was passing out... but no, it was that warmly familiar, dirty white that made up Nick's slacks, sprinting closer and just barely skidding to a halt before him.

Something cracked overhead as metal crowbar met flesh, the weight of the zombies trying to climb on top of him suddenly flinging off and blood dusting his cheek from the impact. Nick straightened from the swinging of his crowbar, dropping down quickly to a crouch.

Ellis' whole spine spasmed painfully as he dropped to a hunched sit and his weight collapsed onto his rump. He tried to push against the ground and stand up, but his body was too numb, adrenaline exhausted.

Nick's face materialized in front of his, leaning, with a fierce scowl and intensely focused gaze. "Fuck, Ellis!" It was half a question and half a statement, and Ellis was suddenly aware of the tears streaming down his cheeks. He tried to choke something out, but Nick was already leaning over him, dragging the chainsaw off of his back with oddly gentle yanks.

The moment it was free and in his hands, the conman stood up, stepping over Ellis with one leg to stand with the younger man's curled form straddled by his calves. Ellis tried to move again, feeling his wet face heat up and throat close with humiliation as he shook his head to try and clear the tears from his eyes. A sharp "Stay!" from Nick made him freeze, twisting his head in time to see Nick yank the ripchord with a growl.

The chainsaw roared to life in his hands, chugging audibly on gasoline, blade just spinning up as the first wave of zombies hit them.

Nick braced it against a cocked hip, shoving the spinning teeth to catch the attacking bodies that vaulted toward them before they made it. The spray was awful, gore and separated limbs going every which way as the blade mowed through flesh and bone.

The conman laughed slightly, sounding practically bewildered - like he couldn't believe what he was doing - as his arms vibrated to the violent roaring of the saw. He hacked it in a half-circle to hold back a pressing wave, cringing under the splatter of blood.

They came in throes, knocked aside just as quickly. They didn't seem to have any kind of survival instinct, carelessly running at him, life extinguished instantly as the chainsaw hacked through vitals.

He chucked the thing away when the horde died out. The chainsaw's roar turned into a splattering squelch as it buried into the wet ground, spinning a little and digging down further before stalling into silence.

Nick crouched back down in front of Ellis, sighing harshly as his gaze ticked over the kid's expression, reading the pain in more places than just the tears. "Okay, you win, the chainsaw was a good idea."

Ellis gave a little hiccupped chuckle, glancing up through wet lashes and breaking into a frown soon after as he tried to push up to standing again, faltering with a tremble. Humiliation burned on his cheeks, and he shook his head. "I can't..."

"I know." Nick interrupted, brows twisting into a scowl as he heard Rochelle and Coach start to get themselves together and retrace their steps toward them. "It's my fault." He gave a deep inhale, frustrated, and moved.

Ellis found his throat closing up as Nick turned around in his crouch, reaching back his arms in offer. The gesture was clear; Nick was going to carry him on his back. "Nick.." Ellis barely managed, unsure and protesting, but the conman berated him quietly.

"Just get up, Overalls, and don't ... say anything. We have to go. Now. I'll come up with something."

Ellis carefully crawled forward, feeling his face heat up fiercely as he gripped onto Nick's shoulders tightly and curled against his back. He didn't want to, but he wasn't confident he could walk just then.

Nick gripped under Ellis' knees to brace him and pull his thighs against his waist, shoving up to stand with a firm grunt. The motion startled Ellis into jolting his arms around the conman's neck, hands clutching onto his own elbows, and he hid his face under the shadow of his cap.

"What happened? Ellis sweetie, are you okay?" Rochelle was immediately concerned, footsteps hurrying to rush back toward them, but Nick had already started walking and he didn't stop even as she reached him.

Nick's voice was terse when he responded, still supporting Ellis' knees with cupped hands. "He's fine. The dipshit took too much with him. Tripped and hurt himself. That horde nearly had him - go get his axe, Ro'."

Rochelle nodded, too visibly worried to mock the conman for his care just then. She ran back to find Ellis' abandoned axe, leaving Coach to eye the two with some disbelief. "Guess you were right, Nick." he admitted, pulling his gaze away to glance around them gaugingly.

Ellis felt his frown worsen, embarrassed, and he lifted his head a little from Nick's shoulder. Half of him tried to keep in mind the chainsaw hadn't actually been the problem - Nick's admittance echoing a little in his head - but he felt the guilt anyway. "'M sorry, guys..."

Nick's gaze flicked to the corner of his eyes, narrowing vaguely before he merely shook his head. The conman didn't seem troubled by the younger man's weight, but weighing him down was just another reason for Ellis to feel guilty.

He started to continue, squirming his weight, "I just dunno if I can -"

"Will you shut up, Overalls..?" Nick practically demanded, gritting his teeth. Ellis heard it in his voice as much as he felt it in the tension of his back: frustration, but not at him. "Christ."

"Better listen, son, if you're really hurtin'." Coach agreed, wearily turning to start moving when Rochelle caught back up, the two flanking Nick on either side as the conman trudged carefully forward. "Piss him off 'n' you're walkin'."

Rochelle sympathetically reached up to rub Ellis' shoulder, casting him a gentle smile sideways. "You'll be okay, honey. That really was a little much to sprint with."

Ellis wanted just a little to defend himself, but he merely nodded his head, tightening his arms around Nick's neck. Even like that, he hurt, but he simply bit his lower lip to stifle it. It was better, however stinging.

He felt embarrassed, humiliated, but when Nick's fingers squeezed onto his knees in a silent gesture - he felt a little better.

It started to drizzle again as they kept walking through the swamp, puddles swelling up and grass turning to almost mush underfoot. Nick immediately snarled a long series of complaints that continued on as they walked.

It took Ellis a while to realize it was never specifically about having to carry him through it.

ladyredms

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