Chapter 7: The Order of Chaos

Charlie

            The sounds of firearms overtake the air, as everyone in the immediate area takes off either for a better position of cover, or to grab their own weapons, to rejoin the fight. “Bandits!” I hear Justin yell, almost too calm. I raise my head to follow his voice and movements, and watch as he saunters over to the side of one wagon, now mouthing something to himself. Fishy. I suppose his master plan already predicted the bandits, so he doesn’t have to act. He just needs me and the rest of the cast to act in his stead. “Fall back! I’ve got explosives!” Yells one bystander, a stick of dynamite in one hand. He skillfully throws it in the general direction of the firefight, causing many screams to come to light. The rest of us run away, and while the explosion seems to hit a good number of the thieves, the onslaught ensures once more. I do my part in fighting back, but mainly focus on finding Justin, who has disappeared out of sight. Unfazed, I press on, finding only the dead bodies of traveler and pillager alike. The bandits seem to all wear what seems to be the semblance of a uniform, with various means of covering their faces. As I travel further inwards, I start to smell the fumes of fire, with the pained screams of agony not far behind. I slow my pace and crouch, hoping to avoid the attention or gaze of any possible stragglers.

It was a clever plan set by the bandits, attacking us on the riverside while we were discussing how to cross, as the river provided a natural barrier between us and them, unless anyone was naïve enough to swim for themselves. The assault came from the leftmost side, but I’m guessing that they’ll try to surround the rest of us if we don’t push them back. Our group left with a train of about 110 wagons, meaning that we still had strength in numbers and organization. Unless these bandits had been scouting us and our route for a few days now, they wouldn’t know precisely where to strike if they meant to cripple the rest of our journey, such as Esther’s medical tent. Still, it begs the question: Who are these bandits?

            I continue making my way inwards, preferring the riverside to keep my face as clear from smoke as possible. The sounds of the engagement slowly fade away, as the cackling of fire and the flow of water compete for superiority in sound. I refocus my thoughts on the more important matter at hand, and decide on a new course of action. If Justin was one of the more pushed-up members of the train, then somebody must have seen him, friend or foe. I round the corner of one wagon to spot a splattering of fresh blood, dismembered appendages, and what remains of the bandits after the explosion. I squint my eyes in an attempt to inspect them better, but the flames in the air make it hard to make out whether or not any are breathing. As such, I take liberties into my own hands, slowly but surely making my way over, before encountering the first stack of bodies, all of them overturned on their side or straddled on their back in some way. I pat the pistol on my side, checking in the likely case that one is playing dead. I lean over the first body, and forcibly grab the midsection, turning him so my gaze could meet his. The bandit’s eyes are closed, with a worn-down bandana covering the lower half of his face. I reach for my multitool, taking out of the knives in the set. As I cut off the bandana, I am rewarded with a clear view of the man’s face, nothing to hide but the look of cocky confidence left in his smirk, his lifeless eyes telling me what else I needed to know.

I only then realized that I might be too late.

Tim

            The loud noises overtake all my personal screams for help, which pales in comparison to the madness that must be going on outside. Did Justin finally start a fight among the other members? Or are there bandits along these trails? But why would they attack now, at a river crossing of all places? I don’t necessarily understand that logic, but if it works for them, good for them. Bad on them for trying to pick a fight with the cast of TTL, though! I attempt to stand up on my own, with each of my bones aching as I exert more pressure. I am able to make it to the back of the wagon, yet the drop proves too much for me, and I find myself on the ground once more. If there was a way to go, I doubt that “fall damage” would be a good epitaph out of the many ways that I have died. “Tim!” I hear a familiar voice call out, with two figures emerging in the smoke. Esther and TG are revealed to be my saviors, with TG already sporting a few cuts and bruises. He drops the firearm that he was holding in order to lift me from the ground, talking to me at a fervent pace. “It’s bandits, they’re attacking along the riverside.” “I figured just as much from where I am, Captain Obvious!” I shout back, struggling to get to my feet. Esther runs over to get to one of my sides, with TG taking point. “Where’s Anna?!” He shouts, now scanning the horizon. “I haven’t seen her at all today, but there are no forests in the area…” Trails Esther, causing TG to have a sudden moment of clarity, dropping me and taking off in a frenzied sprint, causing Esther to collapse under my weight. 

            “Est!” I call out, rolling myself off her body and onto the ground. She shakily finds her footing, and turns to me, her face fraught with fear. “W-w-we h-have to get you to safety… The train is putting up a g-good fight, but t-there is no safe area b-but in numbers.” She tries to lift me, but my body weight far exceeds what she can carry, and she resigns herself to helping me hobble along. “Where’s Justin and Charlie in this mess? Still at the front lines?” “I-I-I think s-so? I-I went to check out the situation, but ran back as soon as I heard the s-sound of e-explosions…” She says, struggling with her words and her movement. We continue as a pair through the ruckus of the chaos, only gaining scattered amounts of tidbits from the other runners in the train. “The front is pushing back!” “The bandits are suffering heavy losses!” “Multiple wounded at the riverside! We need a doctor!” Everyone seems to be as dazed as us, but working just as hard to keep the situation under relative control. However, the scenery seems to disagree, as the ground gets warmer the further inland we progress, with what seems like the front lines of war now merging with our world. The sight of wagons aflame only causes Esther’s mood to sink, but her pace quickens, a change that I can’t reciprocate due to my injuries. I try my hardest, but can’t seem to muster enough energy for a sprint, let alone my fading ability to walk, as I stumble to the ground once more. “I-I-I don’t understand!” Esther cries, now in a panic. “Y-your body has healed at i-immense rates before! Did s-something happen to your body?!” The words strike without any force, as I rack my brain for anything that has happened during the trip. Besides my failed attack on Justin, I haven’t suffered anything major. “W-what did you do over the five years?! T-tim? Tim?!” I try once more, now thinking about the five years before I ended up here. I got a job for my body’s uncanny ability to heal at extraordinary rates… Nothing out of the ordinary here…

...!

The latest episode.

The Chemistry Lab.

The acid.

My wounds from the shoot.

The wounds that I didn't get treated.

Fuck.

            I realize the error of my ways and scream out to the heavens, a sudden wave of fear now overtaking my body. I didn’t get it treated. My brain repeats this phrase over and over and over, as harsh reality encloses on me. I can’t take unnecessary hits anymore, and my first action with the knives sealed my fate if I should be attacked again. I feel the aches once more all over my body, with the cuts constantly keeping me in pain. I don’t know how much longer I could last by myself… I need to get some aid in some way…

“TIM!”

            The suddenness of Esther’s call awakens me back to my senses, as a tremendous amount of pain now makes its way to my head. I grip for dear life as the veins feel like they’re going to pop right off, with Esther’s own screams of panic only worsening the experience. I struggle all that I can in an effort to move, but Esther is the first to give out, dropping both of us to the ground. Esther starts to sob, trying her best to lift me up before herself. “T-T-Tim! P-p-please! G-get up!” I do as she pleads, commanding all of my remaining energy in lifting myself up. I get to my knees, and as much as they ache, I put the pain in the back of my head and continue lifting myself.

“Need a hand?”

            Another voice calls out, and I raise my head enough to see an extended hand, just out of reach. I lift my own in response, but am met with the slap of the same hand, knocking me back to the ground, the pains now coming back to me as I close my eyes in a feeble attempt to close of the rest of the world. Esther screams once more, with her voice reflecting the sheer horror that she is witnessing. “I’ll help you out, Tim.” Says the owner of the hand, now putting something else in it. I turn and barely open my eyes to see my assailant, holding a shotgun right to my chest.

“Help you to the grave.” Justin says, moving his finger towards the trigger.