There was a difference between the sight of immune blood with dead crimson sludge-blood, even though they essentially were the same thing. It didn't really matter logically if it were a human or a zombie, but the sight between the two was somewhat striking to Nick. Especially when they were splattered next to each other.

It had happened so fast. The safe house was just across the street; it blocked the bridge the four survivors had to cross if they had any hope of rescue. Just like every other time, that was when things went right to shit. The moment Coach announced the sight of the safe house, the blood curdling chortle of the un-dead shook the troupe just like it did when they'd first heard it months before. They responded like they grew accustomed to – a shower of bullets raining down on the horde.

The shit part: Ellis, surprised and happy-go-lucky Ellis, fumbled with his precious pistol and tried to catch it before it clattered to the ground. Nick, behind Rochelle, stopped firing his AK-47 in time to hear the pistol shoot, a bullet ricocheting into Ellis' bicep. Ellis' shocked gasp caused Nick to look behind him for a split second. Only when an infected woman grabbed him did he tear his gaze away to snap her jaw with a swing of his elbow. He had only caught a glance of the situation before looking away.

"Ah, shit!" Ellis cried. "Christ in a hand-basket, no!" His other hand shot up to his injured limb. He stumbled back in shock as blood pooled over onto his sun-kissed skin. Coach, positioned beside the kid, drew back his gun and hooked his free arm around Ellis before he hit the ground. He grunted at the sudden weight. Ellis cried out as the pain set in. Nick ran over to shield them with his gun power.

"What now?" he yelled.

"Ellis got shot!" Rochelle yelled. She grabbed a pipe bomb from her belt and placed her thumb over the activation button, using her free arm to swing a bat around sloppily.

Coach pulled Ellis to his knees in time to raise his other arm to continue shooting.

"Shit, this is not the best time, boy."

Ellis was hunched over his arm; hand over the gaping hole in his flesh.

"Don' worry 'bout it," Ellis choked. "Jus' – wait – I'kin – go!"

Rochelle pressed the button of the explosive and craned her arm back to throw the bomb away from them. Nick took the opportunity to whirl around, trying to ignore the blood thickly webbing Ellis' arm.

"Get up, get up, get UP!" he yelled as he stepped towards the safe house. Another bellow came from the alley on the other side of a fence. More infected scurried over, mouths snapping and flesh rotting. Some ran for the beeping bomb, most ran for the four survivors.

"Move, move, move!" Rochelle yelled. Coach hauled Ellis to his feet and ran towards the shelter.

The deafening explosion of the bomb forced the gang to cringe, their ears screaming in protest. The bodies of the infected flew into the air and made sickening plopping noises as they crunched onto the ground. Nick ran backwards with Rochelle, firing away at the remaining zombies. Once through the doorway, they tried to shut to the door. The limbs of various corpses wriggled their way in between the door and the wall.

"Push!" Nick ordered. Rochelle dropped her M-16 and grabbed the handle of the steel door, using all her weight to push it shut. Nick fired wildly out the window as arms flailed around and tried to grab for him, splattering his face with purple specks of goo. Coach loomed over them, trying to aim with his shotgun. Nick shoved him away.

"No, go get a health pack and do something useful! We got this!" he snarled. Coach stepped back, turning towards the mechanic.

"No, no, no," Ellis gasped. Blood completely covered his hand and kept spewing at an alarming rate. "It – it went through! It – it's – I can't – I - fuck!"

Nick reloaded his gun and resumed firing. Rochelle's body shook as she grew exhausted. Gray arms were still waving around, clawing at the gambler's sleeves.

"I don't think...I can...hold on!" Rochelle winced as sweat dripped into her eyes.

"Hold on!" Nick growled. He rocked back on his feet to gain a little momentum before slamming into it. The two grimaced at the sound of steel breaking right through the bones of the infected. The shrieks went silent.

"I can't feel mah arm!" Ellis stuttered, breaking the fraction of peace they had.

Rochelle turned at the comment and ran towards Ellis. She grabbed his arm gingerly, carefully rotating it. Ellis clenched his jaw and hissed a sharp intake of breath through his teeth. Coach had a health kit open beside him and was rummaging through to grab some gauze. Rochelle pulled the sleeve back, wrinkling her nose at the sight of so much blood. Coach showed little mercy as he wiped the wound and quickly pressed a roll of cotton to the lesion, dabbing at it.

The smell of burnt flesh caused the conman to swallow, even though he was standing away from the source.

"Shit." Coach placed his thumbs on either side of the wound and spread it open. Ellis sucked in a strained breath, trembling, tears streaming over his cheeks."I need tweezers. There's something in there. Jesus, you really got yourself into shit, son"

Ellis balled his hand into a tight fist as Coach picked up the tweezers and jabbed them into his patient's arm.

"AH, SHIT!" Ellis screamed. Nick shut his eyes and clenched his jaw. He turned away forcefully and stared out the window of the safe house door. Coach pulled his arm back, fingers and tweezers covered in blood. Clamped between the tweezers' tips was a small chunk of bone that broke into a sharp tip.

"Damn." Coach dropped the tool and shard onto the floor. With some gauze, he wrapped the entire roll around his arm, his nose stinging at the iron smell and his eyes waning at the sight of so much red.

When the gash was sealed, Coach grabbed a bottle of water and poured it over the hick's exposed and blood-drenched skin to clean it. It may have looked relatively okay, but Ellis still couldn't move his right arm.

"We might have to get you to a doctor," Rochelle murmured. "It won't stop bleeding on its own, will it?"

"Yeah, assuming that rescue's actually gonna show up," Nick spat back. Ellis looked up at the ceiling, sucking in deep breaths. Coach pulled a bottle of pills out of his pocket and tossed it into Ellis' lap. Rochelle took the bottle and opened it for him. Every eye flicked to Nick.

"They'll be there," Coach stated. "They will. I've got a good feeling about this."

"Really?" Nick yelled, spinning around. Ellis looked over, sweat dripping down the sides of his temples. "Well, guess what, big guy. A thousand bucks says that rescue ain't gonna come."

"Boy, watch your tone with me."

"Ah-ha! Fuck you!"

Everyone went silent as the tension started to inflame.

"Did you not see what just happened? We have someone with us now who can't even carry a gun! Yeah, that's helpful! At the beginning, we accidentally clipped each other, alright! Now, we're fuckin' shooting ourselves! Yeah, our luck is officially gone."

Ellis winced at the comment. Nick pretended that it was from the pain of his arm and not his own words.

"Wow, Nick," Rochelle sneered, angry tears pooling over onto her dark skin. She brought herself up to her feet and jabbed her index finger into the gambler's chest. "How long has it been? Hmm? Half a year? You've been with us for six months in this apocalypse bullshit. And all four of us are still here. Three of them are still putting up with your shit!"

"Listen, sweetheart, no one asked for your opinion."

"We ain't asking for yours, either," she replied. She dragged a bloodstained hand over her eyes, flicking off the tears.

"Shit," she choked. Nick rubbed the back of his neck, looking away, nostrils flaring. "We don't need it now. We've been through a lot today alone. Just shut up."

No one spoke. Rochelle was right. Running through a human-deserted city dodging bombs put everyone on edge; especially since the people releasing the bombs were the people that were supposed to be saving them. Especially since those same people took that other survivors and rounded them up to shoot them all a few miles back. They didn't even stand a chance.

Nick went silent, frustrated.

"Fine. I'll take first watch tonight. Alone."

And with a final glare at Coach, Nick grabbed his gun and climbed the ladder to post himself in front of the exit. Ellis followed him with his eyes, cringing as Nick stepped over him as if he weren't there.

How long had it been? Three weeks? No. A month. A month had passed since that fateful night in that goddamned swamp. So long ago. So why the hell couldn't Nick get over it? Why the hell did he dream about it almost every night? It was supposed to be a one-time thing...

"Nick? You awake?"

Nick snapped his eyes over at Ellis' voice sounding through the dark. Ellis emerged from the manhole in the floor. He held his arm close to his chest as he somewhat climbed the rest of the ladder and jumped over onto solid ground.

"What?" Nick huffed, repositioning himself against the wall.

"I kin take over watch fer you."

"No, thanks," Nick replied coarsely.

Ellis didn't respond, but sat down nonetheless and made sure to not touch his compatriot. His bandages were wet with blood again and his face was covered in beads of cold sweat.

"Ellis, go. You're too weak –"

"I can't sleep. So I might as well talk tuh you."

"I don't want you to talk to me so go away, please and thanks."

"I was thinkin' that I should stay here tomorruh."

Nick blinked and turned his head over to Ellis.

"Y'know, you were right – I can't carry a gun like this an' I'll only slow yah down, so I think it'd be wise to stay here an'...let you guys go. Let y'all have the best chance at survival possible."

Ellis turned and smiled at the conman softly. He was serious.

"No." Nick gritted his teeth. "Don't be retarded. We got this far, no one is getting left behind. Don't even think about it."

Ellis peered over, his baby blue eyes lighting up. Nick turned his hard gray-green eyes away, wrinkled with frustration. This wasn't helping his dilemma. No, it was feeding it. Nick was just saying that because needed Ellis' gun power. And yet he couldn't carry a gun. What the fuck was happening to him? Six months ago, he would have happily accepted Ellis' offer. Hell, Nick would have encouraged it. Now, Nick couldn't even think about Ellis in this safe house alone with no one to talk to; with no food or water; no hope. Something was happening within the card-shark that he couldn't even comprehend. Why couldn't he friggin' figure it out?

Ellis fingered his bandages and opened his mouth again.

"Listen, I wanted tuh thank yah for today."

"Thank me?" Nick asked harshly, the frustration of his self-argument intruding his tone.

"Yeah, it's what friends do."

"No, kid." Nick returned his eyes to Ellis'. "I am not your friend. I am anything but your friend – if anything, I am your fuckin' saviour and nothing more. I'm not your friend; I am not your buddy; I am not your pal. I am your god damned babysitter."

Ellis wrinkled his nose, his soft smile gone as a fast as a snap of the fingers. Ellis scratched the back of his head under his hat. Nick pressed his head against the wall of the safe house.

"Well, I still consider us friends."

Nick's face contorted into an evil sneer. "Any chance of you and I becoming more than fellow survivors was washed away last month, so forget it."

Ellis looked down at his hands that were placed on his lap. He knew exactly what Nick was saying. Slowly, a vivid memory played through in his head; a memory of him and Nick that changed the course of their relationship.

"Why'd yah bring that up?" he muttered.

"I didn't. You did."

"No," Ellis concurred, "you did. I didn't bring up anythin' like that. I never even implied it. It was the last thing I wanted to talk about. I thought you said that you'd get over it."

"Kinda hard to when the person I fucked is around twenty-four-seven acting as if nothing happened."

Ellis looked up. "Yah think it's easier for me? There were reasons why I let you do it. Reasons beyond debts and reasons beyond my control. I don' care if yah don' wanna hear it, but that's the truth. So maybe we can't be friends, let alone... more..."

Nick turned his face away. No, they couldn't be friends. They were already beyond that. The thing was, Nick wasn't going to allow it.

"Shit," Ellis muttered shakily. "I should go... change my bandages," Ellis mumbled as he stood up. He gripped the ladder with his good arm and descended away from Nick's view.

"God dammit," Nick whispered to himself. He pressed his shaking hands to the bridge of his nose and sucked in a breath. And for once, Nick felt the sting of guilt, feeling twice as frustrated as before.

"Shit, is he dead or somethin'? Nick!"

Nick moaned at the sound and rolled over. Various joints cracked painfully as he slowly opened his eyes from a restless sleep.

The ladder shook as someone climbed it. Coach poked his head from the hole in the ground.

"Never mind, he's awake. C'mon, son, time to get up. We need to get out of here."

Sunlight caressed Nick through the slot on the safe house door. The smell of metal and dust entered his nose. He brought himself to his hands and knees, then to his feet.

"What's goin' on?" he asked loudly. The previous night's events had escaped his mind as he asked so casually.

"We gotta go."

"Now?" Nick asked childishly.

"Yes, now!" Coach barked.

Nick frowned at the man and grabbed his gun. In front of him were more guns, ammo, throw-ables, and an adrenaline shot. Nick pocketed the adrenaline shot, along with a bile jar (to his disgust) and enough ammo to fill his gun for a while.

"Can someone toss up a health pack?" he asked.

"Nope. No more."

Nick caught his breath. "What? There were five of them yesterday!"

"Yeah, and Ellis went through two of them, already. We grabbed what was left and stuffed them in the other three. We have them all down here, strapped to our backs."

"Fine," Nick responded.

Suddenly, a whoosh sounded over the safe house as a fighter jet sped past.

"Sounds like help!" Rochelle cried.

"I wouldn't be too sure," Nick said slowly. "Yesterday, weren't they bombing the city –"

Something exploded outside the safe house, confirming Nick's implication. He lost his balance and flailed his arms around to keep his footing as the ground suddenly jerked around. A piece of the ceiling broke free and landed right beside his foot.

"Is everyone okay?" he asked.

"We're fine! Let's just get out of here to safety."

"Before we run across this bridge right toward the people who've been dropping bombs on us, anyone wanna talk about a Plan B?"

"No," Coach replied.

"Alright," Nick muttered. "Let's go."

Nick placed a ringed hand on the steel bar holding the door secure and wrenched it away. He tossed it to the ground as Rochelle emerged from the lower floor, followed by Coach and finally Ellis.

Ellis was paler than last night, and his gun wound had been bound tight. Someone must have tied gauze around his arm above the injury to tourniquet it. As if he weren't harmed, Ellis was wielding a combat shotgun proudly.

"C'mon, let's do it!" he whooped. Nick looked at the mechanic with worry. Nick watched everyone file out into the sunlight before he followed. Something caught his eye, though. Before leaving the safety of the last safe house he'd encounter, Nick saw a katana.

Every time the gambler saw a katana, he grinned. Seriously, who leaves a bona fide ninja sword out in the open? Nonetheless, it was his favourite weapon to swing around. He picked up the sword, tossing down his pistols, and strapped it to his back.

Outside, everything looked relatively safe, save for the dozens of bodies strewn all over the ground. The silence was broken by muffled whirring.

"You hear that?" Rochelle asked quietly. "Sounds like a radio."

Ellis picked up on the sound. "Dude, that's a soldier! He has a walkie-talkie thing."

Ellis crouched next to the uniform-clad body and grabbed the radio.

"Rescue 7 this is Papa Gator, over."

"This is Rescue 7, over."

"Rescue 7, what is your prepare stat? Over."

"Prepare ETA 10 minutes over."

"Say something," Rochelle ordered. Ellis' fingers pressed down on the talk button. He licked his lips, hoping he was doing something right.

"Hello, there?" he asked.

"Wait, it's coming from the bridge! Bridge, who is this?"

"Ma name's Ellis. There're four'a us on the uh... west end of the bridge."

Nick slowly walked to the gate blocking his path. He cocked his AK-47, heart racing.

"Bridge, are you immune?" the soldier asked.

"What do you mean?" Ellis asked.

"Have you encountered the infected?"

"Well, yeah, we fought zombies!" Ellis replied with a smile.

"Rescue 7, do you have any carriers? Over."

"We...have one, sir. Over."

"Alright, Bridge, the closest we can get is on the other side of the bridge. Make a run for it, rescue will be there as soon as they can. There's a power box connected to the radio. Push the large yellow button on the right side. That will lower the bridge."

"Alright, see yah there!"

"God bless."

Rochelle quickly pressed the button as Ellis tossed the radio away.

The bridge creaked and groaned before the hydraulics kicked it. The massive concrete structure slowly descended.

"Yeah, that's gonna cause a lot of attention," Coach muttered. "Alright, Nick, you man the front. Ro, y'all follow him, then Ellis, then me."

Everyone nodded and cocked their guns, knees bent, muscles trembling, hands shaking. The bridge made its destination with a bang before the metal lip raised itself and slammed to the ground. The gate swung open, and every infected on the bridge snapped their heads over to investigate.

"RUN!" Nick ordered.

No one hesitated. Nick positioned the gun in his hands and started firing, trying to keep the team on the left side of the bridge. The zombies ran to meet them, crawiling out from under trucks and out of cars They were met with a few bullets to their soft heads before falling under the survivors' feet.

"Alright, that's it, keep going!" Rochelle yelled.

Nick peeked behind him. One, two, three. Everyone was still there, aiming and firing. Even Ellis, with his useless arm holding the gun up, was giving her all he got. Nick looked away, resuming his shooting.

Halfway there.

Little did the gang know that they were on a broken path.

Nick skidded to a halt, all three others running into him. Rochelle grabbed Nick to prevent him from falling into the water below.

"Shit!" he yelled. The bridge had a gaping hole in it that stretched from one side of the bridge to the other, severing their path. The only thing that held it together was the posts that were feet below them; unreachable. A tour bus had tipped over on its side and was suspended over the hole to the other side. It was the only way across. Nick ran to it, thanking the heavens that the bus was on its side and not right-side up.

"Up, up, up!" he chanted to himself as he climbed the bus, using the exposed pipes as steps. "Up here!"

Coach started climbing the belly of the bus much like Nick did while Nick grabbed Rochelle's hand. He hauled her up and pulled her behind him. "Ok, run across to the other side!"

Rochelle reloaded her gun and took a few shots around Ellis on the ground to clear the infected. Ellis whacked the zombies out of the way. Something on the other side of the bridge caught Ellis' attention. He faltered and stared over, eyes widening. The entire colour left in his face drained. He didn't move, like a deer caught in the headlights. So scared...

"Gimme your hand, Overalls!" Nick yelled. Ellis didn't hear him. Rochelle and Coach were already on the other side of the bridge yelling for them to hurry. "What the hell are you looking at? Give me your hand!"

"TANK!" Ellis screamed.

The ground shook under the survivors' feet, a low, loud growl echoing all around them. The Tank, riddled with muscles and fuelled by pre anger and frustration, had found the survivors. And he was pissed. It started running towards them, using its massive arms as legs.

Ellis turned to Nick and reached up. Nick securely grabbed his wrist and frantically wrenched him upwards, forgetting the fact that it was Ellis' right arm he was clutching.

"AH!" Ellis gasped. The bandages around his bicep unravelled and slipped off, slowly gliding away with the breeze. The tourniquet held firm, slowing the blood flow that had reawakened on account of Nick's actions. Nick watched as the blood flowed over Ellis' paler-than-usual complexion. He tried to ignore it and successfully pulled the kid onto the bus.

"Shoot the tank, everyone shoot the tank!" Coach yelled. "God dammit!" Rochelle and Coach fired at the beast along with the swarming infected.

The Tank, unable to get there any faster, compensated by slamming its massive hands into the bridge. A large slab of concrete broke free. It lifted it over his head. It looked right at Ellis.

"GET DOWN!" Nick screamed as the Tank hurled the rock. Thankfully, the bus' door was facing the sky and was ajar. Ellis scurried into the bus. Nick only had enough time to drop to his stomach, barely shirking the concrete.

"Nick!"

Nick looked through the windows he was on top of and saw Ellis on his knees looking up at him. And for a split second, Nick saw fear in Ellis' eyes. Nick dragged himself through the door and landed on the windows below.

"C'mon, Ellis, get up!" he yelled desperately. He heard the Tank, slowly coming closer with every shaking stride. He looked to the other end of the bus where they were supposed to exit from. The Tank was running right for them. If it got into the bus, that was it.

Ellis got to his feet, picked up his gun, and ran across the windows with Nick in front of him. They creaked ominously, but the sound was ignored as the Tank was growing ever closer. Coach and Rochelle shot at it frantically, but it took no interest in them. It was focussed on the bleeding survivor, hunger and rage burning in its eyes.

One of the windows shattered under Ellis' foot. His leg fell through the metal frame. Nick didn't notice until Ellis yelled in shock. Ellis' leg was completely suspended over the river. The awkward position made it nearly impossible for Ellis to pull himself up on his own.

"Ellis!" Nick spun around and grabbed the hick's bad arm, pulling him free and shoving him forward. Ellis limped slightly, costing them precious milliseconds.

The Tank was only ten feet away. The bus shook and jolted over the water as Ellis stepped out onto solid ground. He jumped to the side as the Tank swung its arm back. Nick jumped out of the bus, close enough to touch the brute with an outstretched arm. He ducked and jumped out of the way as the Tank connected its swing, connecting it to the bus' roof with an ominous crunching noise.

The four survivors ran for their lives as the bus teetered over the edge and fell through the hole in the structure. The top-heavy Tank followed the vehicle, tumbling over the edge. Thankfully for him, he managed to dig a large hand into the concrete, preventing his death in the waves underneath him.

"Go!" Rochelle shrieked. Ditching their previous line, Rochelle ran with Coach behind Ellis and Nick.

"Shit, this hurts," Ellis choked. He held his gun in his injured arm, using his other to grip his bleeding wound.

"You've had worse," grunted Nick. They were nearing the end of the bridge. Coach and Rochelle managed to pick off the ravenous zombies before they had a chance. But they wouldn't stop coming. Every time one zombie went down, three others took its place.

It became apparent that Ellis was no longer the only one bleeding. Everyone else started obtaining wounds that bled a little, a cut here, a cut there, but no one dared slow down.

"There's the chopper!" Coach yelled. Rescue 7 was in the helicopter on the helipad, watching the four survivors fight their way across.

"Through here!"

Everyone watched as Rochelle banged a right, running off the bridge onto the off-ramp.

"Reloading!" she yelled. She shoved her hand into her ammo-pack. "Shit!"

She tossed her gun down, out of ammo. Coach fired three more shots before his gun started clicking. "I'm out, too! Looks like we're running from here on out!"

Nick gritted his teeth, aware that he was, too, out of ammunition.

"Tits," he cursed. He threw his gun over his head and heard it clatter on the road behind him. Ellis looked up at Nick and licked his lips nervously. He was still limping slightly. Nick stepped closer to Ellis, panting.

"Give me your gun, kid."

Ellis looked over, blue eyes dimming. "What?"

"Give me your gun!" he yelled. Once Ellis listened, Nick didn't fire it. A noise stole his attention – the loud thump-thumping of a beast running after them. Rochelle looked over her shoulder.

"Tank!" she yelled. "It's following us!"

She was correct. The Tank was racing after them, crushing any infected in its path, roaring with fury. The shriek of another mob of infected sounded to the left over the boarded fence of the road.

Nick wrapped his arm around the hick, pulling him faster. If something miraculous didn't happen fast, all that running around for six months wouldn't count for shit. Everything would be lost.

That's when something clicked. And it wasn't another empty gun. Something in Nick's head clicked over. A feeling of warmth washed through him as the puzzle pieces finally fit together. It was so immense; it caused him to slow his stride slightly.

All that denial... thinking over and over about it... refusing to let go and get over it... thinking about it in the middle of the race of his life.

"Nick, I'm jus' slowin' yah down!" Ellis panted. Nick broke out of his trance and looked over at the man he was carrying.

"That may be, Ellis, but I'm going to make sure that you get your red-neck ass on that fucking chopper," Nick growled.

The sun was behind them, burning the survivors' sweaty backs. And thankfully so, for the sun touched a metal object, causing the light to reflect right into Nick's eyes. It was a heavy machine gun rigged on a truck.

Nick released Ellis and leapt onto the truck. The Tank was just coming off the bridge and the zombies were scrambling over the fence.

Coach and Rochelle grabbed onto Ellis and started pulling him away.

"Wait! Nick!" he yelled.

"Get on that damn 'copter!" Nick barked. "Coach, take him – them! Take them and run!"

Coach hesitated, but forced Ellis away.

"No! Nick!"

Nick ignored the mechanic's desperate cries as he shoved the first clip of the belt of ammo into the gun. He pulled back the safety and cocked it as the three others disappeared over a ledge towards the helipad.

The Tank was still focussing on Ellis. It grabbed the edge of the fence dividing it and the path to the kid, ready to rip it out of its way.

"OVER HERE, YOU BASTARD!" Nick screamed. He pulled back the trigger and felt the gun whirl to life. Bullets exploded out of it and entered the Tank's side as well as any surrounding infected. With a few swings of the gun, he managed to take out any common infected with ease, leaving him to take on the Tank at full force. Chunks of muscle and trails of blood flew from the monstrosity. It turned to the annoyance and started barrelling for him.

"That's it, get over here!" Nick taunted. To his horror, the monster-zombie didn't slow. It didn't show any sign of weakness.

Nick looked over to see Coach dragging Ellis into the chopper, obviously struggling. Rochelle was already in the aircraft, watching Nick and stricken with fear. He turned back to the Tank, who was getting ever closer.

The gun grew hot in his palms as more bullets fired. Soon, the gun was blistering hot. Nick had no choice but to release it. He was cornered, his back pressed up against the cab of the truck. His heart was going a mile a minute as the Tank got threateningly close. Refusing to let the beast live, Nick reached behind him and firmly grasped the handle of his katana. He pulled it free and faced the Tank just as it swung its arm up again to strike the truck.

"EAT THIS!" Nick pulled his hands over his head, brandishing the ninja weapon, and forced it right into the Tank's skull.

The Tank shrieked and wriggled under the blade, Nick screaming the entire time. The Tank threw its raised arm forward and hit Nick square in the chest. The air was knocked out of his lungs as his feet left the truck bed. The force of the impact caused Nick to soar through the air, over the fence and closer to the helipad. Nick watched as the Tank fell to the ground dead before he, too, hit the ground. The sound of breaking bones and shattering glass echoed through his ears as he painfully hit the ground once, twice, three times before rolling to a stop.

"NICK! GET UP!"

Nick coughed and painfully picked himself off the ground. His legs felt fine, but his side felt like a blade was wedged in it. Something wet oozed down his leg as he wiped his blood from his eyes. The sick smell of vomit entered his nose. He looked to his leg. The bile bomb he had collected minutes before had shattered in his pouch and was oozing from the seams. Nick unbuckled it and let it fall to the ground. Some green stained his suit as he made a run for it, clutching his side and blinking through a stream of blood.

The infected swarmed behind him, attacking the leather pouch that was discarded. Nick made it to the helipad before he started coughing.

"Shit," he rasped. The Tank must have broken a rib or something...

"Go, go, go!" Coach yelled.

Nick watched as the helicopter's blades started accelerating, readying itself for takeoff. Coach yelled to the pilot. "No not you!" The pilot ignored him and started taking off, sending Coach and Rochelle tumbling away from the hatch.

"No, you don't!" Nick growled. Out of pure instinct, Nick lunged for the opening of the helicopter as it flew over the river. He missed.

Ellis didn't.

Ellis shot his arm down and grabbed Nick's wrist before he fell to his death below. His shoulder felt the sudden strain. Nick blinked and looked up at Ellis, who was on his belly reaching down to Nick with his injured arm. Nick grabbed onto Ellis' wrist in response.

"Don't you dare let go," he panted. Ellis replied by further tightening his grip on the conman, blood pooling onto his white cuff. Ellis slowly started pulling Nick into the chopper.

But they were still too close to solid ground to be safe.

An all-too-familiar shriek sounded behind Nick. Ellis looked up and saw the Hunter just before it jumped from the edge of the helipad, hunger burning in his eyes. And the only thing it could grab onto was the man closest to him.

It grabbed onto Nick's bile-splattered thigh. Unprepared, Ellis slid closer to the edge of the helicopter's edge. Rochelle and Coach grabbed onto his legs.

The Hunter was still clutching on the conman's thigh, ravenously clawing through the fabric to get to his flesh. Nick looked down frantically, Ellis grunting as his sweaty hand lubricated the other. Nick was slipping.

With a deft kick from Nick, the Hunter lost its grip and fell, clawing at the air, into the water below.

Coach and Rochelle pulled the two of them back into the chopper as the hatch slowly closed.

No one spoke as Nick fell on top of Ellis, spent and exhausted. Ellis panted, adrenaline slowly receding.

"We made it," he whispered. He started laughing. "We FUCKING made it!"

Ellis cheered and Coach and Rochelle smiled widely. Nick propped himself on his elbows to look at Ellis. Ellis looked back at him, his smile faltering.

"Nick, did you... uhh... piss yourelf?" he asked quietly.

"No!" Nick replied. Just to be sure, Nick looked down to his crotch. He caught his breath, cringed, looked back up at Ellis and opened his mouth. Instead of words, he coughed. Blood speckled Ellis' face. "Oh, fuck," Nick breathed. Ellis stared at Nick, petrified, as he realized that they were still fighting for survival.

Ellis rolled Nick off him, worry breaking through his previously happy expression. No, Nick had not wet himself, but his thigh was soaked with dark red blood. Nick coughed again, choked by the blood that slowly entered his lung from his broken rib. "Ah, shit! Ah, FUCK!"

Rochelle and Coach didn't react right away, but when they did, it was all-hands-on-deck.

"What's going on?" Rescue 7 yelled over the whir of the helicopter's blades.

"One of our men is bleeding!" Coach responded. "A lot. Shit, it's coming from his thigh. I think one of his veins was severed!"

"Is he infected?" the pilot asked. "Was he bitten?"

"No!" Coach yelled.

"Ok, try to stop the bleeding – there's a secure hospital in the city. It's safe there! But it's fifteen minutes away. Try to stop the bleeding with anything you have!"

Rochelle grabbed her health pack and tore it open, breaking the zipper apart in her haste. The blood was flowing like a fountain; non-stop and pulsating. A puddle had already formed on the floor underneath Nick, mixing with the goo of the zombie-blood he had accumulated. Nick whimpered and grunted, trying not to move. He coughed again as more and more blood suffocated him.

"Get his leg up!" Rescue 7 ordered. "If you guys have a belt, fasten it around his leg and make it as tight as you can."

Ellis eyed Nick's belt and grabbed it. Nick laid his arms to the ground, allowing access. Ellis licked his lips and unbuckled the metal, hearing the leather slip over the thick fabric of the conman's pants. Rochelle grabbed it and wrapped it around Nick's soaked thigh. She ran the belt through the buckle and heaved on it.

"Hold it there!" Ellis said desperately. He grabbed a pair of surgical scissors and cut away the soiled fabric blocking his view without qualms. Once the fabric was whisked away, Ellis caught his breath. He fell back to his backside in shock at the horrific sight.

Nick's flesh wasn't cut – it had been butchered. The flesh looked filleted, like little ribbons. One ribbon of skin was hanging loose, and Ellis could see parts of Nick's thigh bone. Nick tried to look, but the pain in his side hit him at full force. Coach held him down and wiped his chin of the blood that was slowing increasing in flow.

"C'mon, Ellis, wrap his leg!" Rochelle strained. Her knuckles were turning white from holding the belt tight around Nick's ever-spurting thigh.

"C'mere, son!" Coach ordered, seeing how distressed Ellis was getting. The two men switched places. Coach started to quickly bind Nick's leg. He used everything – all the gauze, all the tensor bandages, and all the medical tape. Blood still seeped through. Coach used all his weight to press down on the card-shark's leg. There was so much blood on the floor; Coach's knees slipped around as he tried to apply the adequate pressure to the wound.

"Prop him up!" Rochelle yelled. Ellis grabbed Nick and held him up, allowing him to cough up more blood without choking on it. Ellis held him tight in his arms.

"Kid..." Nick rasped. Ellis barely heard him, but he looked down to meet the conman's tired eyes.

"Nick?" Ellis asked quietly. He brought his face closer Nick's.

"Ellis..." Nick tried to get a breath down and winced, a thin stream of blood slowly trailing out of the corner of his mouth. "I... always thought...about what I would say... on my deathbed...'cause it was always...around the...corner..."

Nick started coughing again. He gripped Ellis' Bull Shifters shirt and brought his face close. Ellis' jaw trembled.

"Maybe...it wasn't a mistake..."

"Nick please..." Ellis begged quietly, not ready for what was to come. His nose started stinging as his world slowly broke open.

"Maybe... I was too selfish to...realize that...there are more...people in this world...than me..."

Ellis started shaking. Nick coughed again, his breath coming out in wheezes.

"I wasn't... about to admit that...I didn't want to...admit it...to myself...I guess I'm an arrogant asshole that way..."

"No..." Ellis choked. He closed his eyes as if that would help in shutting away the pain clawing at his chest.

"And you...admitted it...to me...when you said that...there were reasons...beyond your control... when you were saying... why you let me... do that to you..."

Ellis sucked in a breath and shook his head helplessly. "Why'd you bring that up?" he asked quietly.

"Because...you were telling me...something else...weren't you...? When you said that..."

Ellis' eyelashes glistened as he tried to shut his eyes tighter. Nick was right.

"Ellis, look at me..." Nick whispered. Ellis kept his eyes shut. "Kid, open...your eyes."

And Ellis did. Nick's vision started to blur as Ellis looked down at him, tears searing over his cheeks.

A tear dripped off the end of Ellis' nose and onto Nick's numb cheek as his eyes stared down at the dying man.

Ellis tightened his hold around Nick.

Nick smiled weakly as his legs went numb slowly, emitting the pain that tortured him. It slowly washed over him towards his chest.

"We're at the hospital, ready for landing!"

Nick didn't bother paying attention as the numbness had reached his neck.

"Nick...?" Ellis asked quietly. "Nick? Nick!"

But the man wasn't moving, or speaking. Nick watched as Ellis yelled out his name over and over, his voice slowly fading away into a distant hum, darkness slowly clouding his eyes, and arms pulling him under to an inviting embrace of nothingness.

To Be Continued