3. Get out and investigate. There might be survivors.
You park over to the shoulder and step out of the door.
The flames rising from the nearest wreck dance and flicker across your face, casting weird shadows as you walk past it. The sound of the helicopter continues to fade, then vanishes.
You walk past a charred body with hardly a glance. You barely register that it's a woman. One arm is extending away from ground zero, suggesting she burned to death while trying to crawl away.
You cock your head with some curiosity at the scene now before you. It looks like the bridge was hit by a meteor. An upside down and gutted out pickup truck burns and smokes nearby.
On the other side of the blast, No-Face stands with hands at his sides, staring at you. You smile at him.
He twists his head to one side, suddenly, like he heard a sudden noise.
A man stumbles out of the truck, coughing and bleeding.
He takes a few steps and falls. You kneel beside him.
His hair is burnt away. His upper chest is raw and bloody. He smiles at you through cracked lips.
"Came... suddenly... god... damn them..." he whispers to you. His hand reaches blindly, and you grasp it, feeling the skin almost crunch in your grip.
"Who?" you ask. You glance up to find No-Face is gone.
"Helicopters..." comes the reply. "Government... cleaning up, probably..."
He suddenly spasms, and you recoil, but then you realize he's laughing.
"Survived... the things... the world going to hell... caravan. Survivors. Had to leave. Limestone is..."
"Yes?" you inquire.
"They hit us with... missile. Machine gunned... the kids. Probably... laughing. Hahaha."
"Have you seen a man, with a little Hispanic girl? Their names are David and Nicole," you ask.
"Water..."
"I don't have any water," you reply. "Have you seen them?"
"Friends... of yours?" comes the reply. His voice is weakening.
"Yesss," you answer.
The man, whose eyes had been wild and roaming, suddenly focuses on you. For a single moment you see something else in his eyes besides pain and grim humor.
"Haven't seen anyone like that," he says, his voice coming back for this moment.
You stare at him.
He laughs again, but this time it's mostly coughing. "Oh, man. I'm dying... I'm fucking... dying... and all... can... think about... is having... a drink. Where's... my... flask. Can't reach it. Please. Can you..."
His eyes roll back in his head. He goes limp, and speaks no more.
You cock your head, observing him die in front of you. It is of some strange interest.
Finally he goes brain dead and you shrug. Time to move on.
You roll him over and search through his pockets. Wallet. You're not interested in anything inside. A face and a name, but who cares? You reach inside a back pocket and feel something smooth and solid. Pulling it out, you hold up a silver flask in the dark.
You pop off the top and sniff.
Jesus. The smell coming from inside is terrible. You move to fling it over the sid --
stop
Hmm? Odd. Strange voice in your head. You look down and see the flask still in your hand. Whatever's in there, it's not water.
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1. Guy was probably trying to poison you. Throw it away.
2. Anything that smells that bad can't be good. Get rid of it.
3. You're not even remotely thirsty. Drop it over the side.
4. Who in their right mind would drink something from an unknown source? It's probably poison. Empty it out on the ground so nobody else can drink it.
5. Throw it over the side.
6. Fling it away from you.
7. drink it
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Topic: The Ends (Read 59236 times)