Fracking Apocalypse - a ZNation 10K/Tommy Fanfiction

S5E05

S5E05:

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

"Just take your time." Red advised as he lined up his next shot. They were outside Altura –finally – and she had set up some empty cans on a tree branch for him to practice shooting at. When she'd shown up that morning with an improvised prosthetic hand he'd been skeptical, then he'd seen how one bit of wire bent and would work as a trigger finger. And it was good, he was able to shoot the gun, but he still lacked control, the recoil was making him miss every shot and even though he'd been trying to tuck it into his shoulder and against his body a dozen different ways, with only one hand it was too wobbly for him to make the shot.

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

"Damn it." He cursed – he'd been doing a lot more of that lately – as he turned and lowered the gun trying to fix his grip in another way that might work. But he knew it wasn't just his failing grip that was irritating him. Bailey had spent the night in a cell somewhere in Altura and no one would tell him where it was. He couldn't even visit her, make sure she was okay. He'd seen the way they were treating the quarantined Talkers, and he hated the thought that the militia could be treating her just as poorly.

He groaned in pain as he twisted his wrist the wrong way and the leather straps that made up the cuff of the trigger finger chafed against his stitches. He grunted one more time before Red took his forearm.

"Let me take a look." She said moving to undo the cuff.

"It's fine." He insisted but groaned again at the friction, clearly not fooling her, he grunted one more time when she pulled it off. His skin wasn't as grey anymore but the stitched together flesh was red and irritated.

"It's not fine." Red said keeping her voice low but still looking at him like he hadn't been taking proper care of it. In all honesty he hadn't. He hated it, he hated looking at it and he did his best to keep it out of view. He knew it could get infected and he could get really sick but part of him really didn't care. So what if he died? He'd just turn Talker anyway. And so what if he didn't get a bizkit in time and turned and had to be put down? Sure he shouldn't think that death would be better but with how he was now - he was alive but not living, so what was the point?

"Maybe you should take a break. Or. . . use your left hand?" Red suggested after she'd wrapped his wrist in a handkerchief and slid the leather cuff back on. He looked over at the cans, not a hole in a single one.

"Just forget it." He sighed before walking off. Thankfully, Red left him alone, he wanted to be by himself for a while and he was grateful that she always knew when he needed space.

Bailey POV

Bailey had been in a cell beneath one of the buildings in Altura all night. She didn't know which building since the guard Keeler had left her with had dragged her here and had grabbed her by the hair making her look at her feet as they walked which was disorienting enough that she hadn't been able to keep track of where in Altura they had taken her. She hadn't even known there were cells in Altura, but she supposed it made sense. They were trying to build a new country and to do that you had to make rules and there would always be people who would try and break those rules. She just wished the cells had better accommodations, last night she'd been freezing without a blanket or a jacket and was still huddled in the far corner trying to keep herself as warm as possible. She heard voices in the distance as the guards swapped at the next shift change and a moment later she heard whistling and footsteps until the new guard came to the door of her cage.