Escaping Dilemma

The characters and events in this story are entirely fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

The sun shines mockingly over the quiet streets. In the bright sky, a helicopter punches the air loudly as it flies over deserted roads. Loud footsteps and heavy panting echoed through the emptiness.

“Here! Look down! Help! We are not infected.” Caleb shouted desperately.

The thumping of the rotors faded as the helicopter vanished behind the clouds, leaving the abandoned streets with a deafening silence once again.

“It’s no use, Caleb. We got to... go to a designated spot,” mumbled Edena, words dragged out as if it hurt to speak.

“Why are you walking around? You got hurt! I told you to stay put!” Caleb scolded furiously, yet, upon listening closely, one can sense that it’s born of deep concern.

Edena’s fingers were buried on the right side of her stomach, her shaky hands clenched on her deep wound, trying desperately to stop the crimson from flowing out. Despite the sharp stabbing pain, the corner of her dried lips formed a lazy smile.

“I’ll be fine. Let’s keep… going.” She mumbled.

Caled snapped at her, “No! We don’t even know the designated spot! We can’t wander around with you like this!” he continued to babble, “It’s all my fault! I shouldn’t have explored that store! What am I to do?! I... I... You...” he ranted, his words laced with regret and dismay.

“Caleb... No... Nothing is your fault. I should’ve… waited outside… At...At least I didn’t get the... virus...hopefully,” she whispered to console her dear friend.

Caleb spotted a small warehouse next to a convenience store. It seems the store was completely trampled by survivors; it is a miracle that the little warehouse beside it was in good condition. During a quick inspection inside the warehouse, he found some wood stacked along the wall, scattered cans, and packed items. It looked long deserted, with dust floating in the air and a musty smell.

He scurried back to Edena, “Ed, wait inside that warehouse. I’ll barricade it from the outside. Stay put, and I’ll be back in a few minutes. I’ll surely bring something...anything to treat your wounds.” He declared.

Edena smiled softly and nodded while the pain gnawed on her. Caleb helped her to get inside, shortening his steps to carefully lead her into the room. He made her sit down on the ruined floor with her knees bent. Then he compressed her wound with his soft coat and left his bag containing essentials beside her.

He slightly brushed her damp, short strands of sun-kissed hair out of her face and stood up. He was quick on his feet to head outside when Edena tugged on his shirt.

“That... concerned look...doesn’t suit you, mate,” each word coated with pain, she muttered with usual lightheartedness.

Caleb turned back, “Too bad. Can’t help it,” he said with sarcasm, hiding his crippling anxiety. “I’ll be right back!” he assured.

FEW MOMENTS LATER

Caleb found a pharmacy within 1200 m of the warehouse. He drew his gun, smoothly bringing it to a two-handed firm grip, his finger indexed straight along the frame as he crept warily inside the drugstore. The cracked glass door was open widely, seemingly welcoming him into an abyss.

The ruined floor tiles, the broken shelves, and the sound of someone or something ruffling inside made him hesitate for a fraction of a second before he continued forward, bracing himself for the worst.

Unsure of what’s inside, he advances cautiously, each step measured to avoid any clunky mistake. Behind the counter, he spotted a woman on her back rummaging through medicines; her outfit was exceptionally clean and crisp; her hair looked thin yet smooth; her black top had no dirt or stains, in contrast to his shirt. It was clear that the woman was neither a survivor on the streets nor an infected person. The woman seemed to be searching for some gauze and essential medicines.

Caleb stealthily moved behind that woman, and in a swift movement, he placed the cold metal of the gun against the woman’s nape.

“Raise your hands! Now!” he threatened.

The woman slowly lifted both of her hands, setting the gauze and medicines down.

“So… you want the gauze, huh? You could just ask, you know,” she said in an unexpected calmness in her voice.

Caleb paid no heed and snatched everything, which included gauzes, bandages, and an insect-repelling spray. Throughout his rampage, he kept his knuckles strong on the weapon while precisely holding the woman at a vulnerable point. He sensed the calm gaze of her on him, which somehow felt unsettling.

After getting more than enough supplies, he turned to leave when the woman asked, “Do you even know how to dress a wound?” Her mocking gaze fell on his left wrist with a loosened gauze dressing.

“... Not your concern”, he replied.

“I can help you, if you want. I am a trained nurse,” she monotonously offered.

“Why? To begin with, who are you? You have a weapon, why aren’t you using it on me? You’re clearly not struggling to survive. Are you one of those? How could I trust you?”He probed, grilling her with questions.

“Is that all?” she asked, her voice collected. “Let’s say I have some... morals. Do you want my help or not? Time is probably ticking for the injured”, she continued.

Caleb hesitates for a moment, knowing that it’s either a stupid decision or something worse, but there is no other choice. As she mentioned, time is a luxury for him right now.

He urged, “I need your help... Please follow me.” his tone defeated, succumbing to the stranger’s offer.

“Lead the way,” she replied.

He ushered her to the warehouse while looking back at her with deep uncertainty. The woman was grazing around nonchalantly on her way, seemingly harmless. As he walked in front of her, he listened closely to the click of her boots. His ear caught onto each and every sound around him, which added to his sensitivity. His mind swirled with all kinds of thoughts.

What if she harms her? What if she is from the Glided Cruelty group? Then would she just kill Edena because she’s injured... Edena can’t fight in that condition. Would I be able to save her...

Lost in his deep thought, he failed to spot her as she gradually quickened her pace. The realization hit once he felt a cold blade pressed against his throat. He froze in terror; he moved his hands like a ghost, instinctively searching for the gun he kept in his pocket. He stopped in his tracks when the blade pressed deeper as he groaned.

“Drop your gun to the ground. Do you think I’ll hold still until you pull the trigger? Drop it,” she ordered menacingly.