CHAPTER VIII
To Save A Life

  "NO! No! God, please, no!" Ethan screamed, his voice breaking with each word he uttered.

One pair of hands held down his arm. The raw skin that had rubbed off burned and bled as it was forcefully squeezed until it could no longer be moved. Another pair kept a long, sterilized nail against the middle of his palm, the other hand holding a hammer.

"I'll obey!" The teen begged. His throat burned, "Please! Anything!

The hammer came down and the nail forcefully punctured through his skin. It stopped inside his muscles and tendons, refusing to go inside of his bone. Ethan cried loudly in agony, thrashing around in hopes of escape. Crimson poured from his fresh wound at a rapid flow. The hammer hit the nail quicker and harder this time, the object going through his bone and out of the back of his hand. Ethan nearly passed out, growing dizzy. 

They had nailed his hand to the wall.

Looking down, he realized two other doctors were working on his bullet wound, cleaning and sewing him up. His wounds had been slightly tended to, but not enough. They knew he was losing blood too quickly and hooked him up to an I.V to give him merely enough.

His half-closed eyes could hardly stay open. So much unbearable pain in the span of barely three days. The constant feeling of warm blood gliding across his marred skin. It was beyond tiring, though he feared if he fell asleep, he would be skinned alive once more. Part of him no longer cared. He would die soon either way.

The second his dark eyes finally closed to rest, they snapped open in surprise as his gown was flipped up, revealing the lower half of his body. Without missing a beat, a drill was sent into his hip on the opposite side of his bullet wound. Ethan balled his fists and grew weak in the knees. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as his body gave out completely. It began to shake vigorously. He abruptly felt as if his brain had a pulse. He could hear a heartbeat in his ears. His hand hung above his head as he managed to fall to his knees. His back hit the wall behind him.

A voice sounded like it was underwater, "He's seizing." 

The drill was removed from his frail body with a moist nauseating sound. What seemed like a million hands were on his body. Ethan's vision was engulfed in darkness.

"I dare you to drink the cafeteria orange juice," Collin's exuberant voice echoed through his head.

Ethan could see himself, standing before the fridge in the detention center's mess hall. His raven-colored, tousled hair was pushed back and curled against his nape. With lively eyes and a playful smile, he grabbed the orange juice and took the cap off.

His words were loud and joyful, "This shit isn't edible, I swear." 

"Drink it! Drink it!" Collin chanted.

Ethan shook his head, screwing the cap back on and putting the drink back in the fridge. The other teen sharply sighed, gently hitting the back of his head. Ethan smacked his chest before a guard trailed to them and restrained their hands behind their back.

"How many times do we have to repeat ourselves, Valentine and Keys? You can't be fooling around in here and hitting each other, I don't care if it's a joke or if you're the bestest of friends." The man scolded before turning to his radio, "I've got inmates -- you know who they are. Heading back to solitary. Prepare to open the doors."

Ethan and Collin exchanged looks before bursting into laughter. They hadn't a care in the world, for they had each other and that was all they needed. It was their last shared memory before the world overflowed with walking dead people.

*

Evelyn and Collin made their way down a cracked, bloody road. Their hair was damp and frizzy, laying over their tired eyes. They were miserable, but thankfully the rain had died down to a drizzle. The teens were hungry and exhausted -- but they couldn't stop, they were racing against time. Every second spent resting could be the very second Ethan's life ended. Though, the question of whether or not he was already dead remained at the back of their heads.

Abruptly, Evelyn collapsed to her knees, running her fingers through her hair in frustration. She let out an angry yell, clenching her fists against her scalp. 

"I can't do this!" She whispered to herself through her gritted teeth.

Collin put his weapon in the waistband of his shorts and held out his hand, "Come on."

"I can't!" She retorted.

The boy forced her onto her feet and furrowed his brows.

"If anyone can do it, it's you. You don't take shit from anybody, Evelyn, and you face your problems. You encouraged me to come out here and look for Ethan when I had given up. You have to get yourself together and keep walking! Act like the badass girl you are! You've beat a cop's ass, yelled at Hayden -- which is something nobody else in the world would do -- and now you're here, trying to quit. You're not a quitter so stop acting like one!" He stated sternly, looking down at her as she shook her head.

"I'm sorry," She said after a moment. "Let's keep walking."

Collin nodded, a lighthearted smile spreading across his face, "That's what I like to hear."

Looking past her face, he could see a white building in the distance. His heart felt as if it had skipped a beat before racing in his chest. Shivers fell over his entire body. He pointed towards the area, overwhelmed with emotions.

"Do you -- Do you think he's in there?" He asked.

Without a word, Evelyn began running. Collin followed behind, taking his gun in hand. They ran as if they were being chased. For Ethan, they ran despite their aching muscles screaming at them to stop. They silently prayed he was there, and more importantly, alive.

The duo reached the glass doors. With the butt of his pistol, Collin smashed the door as hard as he could, crushing it to pieces. Evelyn stepped inside first, her worn-out combat boots crunching against the glass as she walked.

The blond held his gun high as they raced through the halls. His shaking finger hovered over the trigger, ready to kill someone despite the fear that clung tightly to him. A sudden alarm blared through the facility. They gasped, becoming highly alert. Evelyn ran down the darkest hall and Collin followed. 

She opened every door they passed, only to be faced with storage or break rooms. When they reached the hall, she was met with double doors. The handles were stained crimson. Collin hesitated, but opened the door and stepped in first. Inside were two doctors putting medicine into an I.V. His dark eyes followed the line of the machine until it saw the arm it was hooked to. A familiar birthmark was seen on the pale forelimb. Collin felt the blood drain from his body. He wouldn't let himself stare.

"Get away from him!" Evelyn demanded, appearing strong.

The doctors turned to her in shock. Surprisingly, they backed away from the injured teenager, facing Evelyn until they left the room. She turned to Collin, ignoring his concerning demeanor.

"Come on, we have to hurry before they come back." She urged, rushing over to Ethan.

His eyes were closed, and she could tell he was unconscious. Evelyn examined him with horrified eyes. The way his face was covered in a sickening mixture of blood and sweat that carried to his neck and chest. His limbs were limp, even though he was forced to stand as his hand was nailed to the wall above, a river of the red liquid racing along his arm and down his side. He was stained all over with a combination of dried and fresh blood. His hospital gown dripped with crimson, soaking up the liquid from his hip before it could spread. 

Evelyn felt ill. She turned to Collin, finding that he had covered his eyes -- and rightfully so. She swallowed back her discomfort and looked around the room.

"How the hell am I supposed to get the nail from the wall?" She asked herself.

Collin let out a sharp, trembling inhale, "He's nailed to the fucking wall?"

Evelyn didn't reply, grabbing Ethan's wrist ever so gently and moving it forward in hopes of the nail coming out of the wall. It wouldn't budge. She did the only thing she could think of and slammed her fist into the small portion of the object that was exposed between the wall and his hand. It bent but dragged down his palm further with a revolting sound, leaving an open trail in his hand. Ethan's eyes snapped open, shrieking in pain that caused Collin to remove his hand from his eyes and finally perceive the state his best friend was in.

His gun dropped to the floor. Two years of knowing Ethan Valentine and he could hardly recognize him beneath the torture. Even his eyes were different -- they had lost their spark. The sight would not be easily forgotten. He grew dizzy but held himself together for the sake of the three of them.

Ethan instantly recognized Collin, staring at his tearful brown eyes. He continued to groan in pain, but the blond before him was his focus. The teen wasn't sure if it was reality or a hallucination. His brows stitched together, gritting his teeth as tears threatened to fall from his eyes.

Evelyn pushed his hand out of the wall, the nail coming out with it. Ethan grunted as fire erupted through his veins, falling to the ground. The other two helped him to his feet quickly, putting themselves beneath his arms to aid him in walking. Collin grabbed his gun before they fled the room. 

They rushed as fast as possible through the halls. Evelyn managed to grab a few medical supplies through open storage rooms as they moved. The teenagers rushed past a few clueless doctors that had no time to react to the sight. It wasn't a long journey to the entrance and back outside. Ethan had slipped into unconsciousness before they made it back to their car accident, in which they felt safe enough to stop.

Evelyn ran her fingers through her hair, "We should've brought the I.V with us. What if that was keeping him alive?"

Collin swallowed hard. He couldn't stop staring at Ethan's face. It wasn't the person he knew and loved. He shrugged slightly, using his shirt to clean some of his face from the blood.

Evelyn wrapped his hand with gauze, leaving the nail inside his palm. She secured his hip, bicep -- every wound that leaked blood was tended to with care the best she could manage. 

Collin's face was contorted with worry as he wiped his tears away. He examined their surroundings. There was nothing but road for as far as he could see. The clouds covered the sun and warned heavy rainfall once more. The car Ethan leaned against was too damaged to even try and drive again.

"Evelyn," He began with a heavy breath.

She turned away from Ethan's frail body to face him, "What?"

Collin stared at his feet for a moment in silence. 

"How the hell are we supposed to get home?"

AUTHORS NOTE

This chapter is a bit longer then usual -- just 500 more words though.
Hope you liked it! Feedback is appreciated!