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墨書 Inktalez
As soon as I saw Jack's behavior, I was furious.
Just a moment ago, seeing him with tears streaming down his face, I thought he was crying for me, which touched me deeply. Who would have thought he was just upset due to his mental imbalance? That moment of excitement vanished in an instant. Now, with him so unceremoniously sprawled across my back, how could I not have an opinion about it?
Besides, if his legs were fine, he should be walking on his own. Even if I had to support him, it would be better than carrying him. Although the pace wouldn’t be fast, I realized that carrying him wouldn’t allow for much speed either.
However, I couldn't just throw him off my back; if he got hurt from that, I'd really be in trouble.
I turned my head and asked him, "Can you walk on your own?"
He glared at me with swollen eyes that barely opened and replied defiantly, "Look at me like this and you want me to walk by myself? Are you even human?"
What the hell? How am I not human?! Just because I don't have vines growing all over me? It's not my fault you’re in this state! I realized that Jack's mental imbalance had serious consequences and might last a long time.
You’re in this condition. But I've been carrying you halfway; why aren’t you doing anything? The problem was his brazen attitude; he spoke without thinking, as if he had me completely figured out. I couldn’t tell if he truly understood me or if something was wrong with his mind.
Still, I couldn't just abandon him. Not knowing his true condition left me no choice but to carry him in frustration.
Jack’s injuries prevented him from even carrying his backpack. All of our gear was now hanging off me. Two guns—his long gun resting against my back while the short one hung from my chest, with each bag dangling from the ends of the guns. I had to comfort myself: this way, I could maintain balance.
However, it wasn’t long before I realized Jack might not be faking it. I kept hearing him inhale sharply through clenched teeth, but there was no sound of teeth clattering; instead, his body trembled intermittently as if he were shivering.
I asked him, "Are you cold?"
After a series of rapid clicks from his teeth colliding together, Jack let out a heavy nasal sound in response: "Mm."
It seemed he wasn’t cold; despite the low temperature here, it shouldn’t be enough to make his teeth chatter uncontrollably. He must have wanted to say something earlier but realized he couldn’t control his trembling teeth when he opened his mouth and ended up responding with a grunt instead.
"Want a smoke?" I asked Jack.
No response. A hand reached out directly in front of me. It seemed I hadn’t guessed wrong; the pain from his injury was unbearable for him. I admitted that part of this was my responsibility; I'm not a professional doctor, and the surgery performed on him was anything but delicate.
With both backpacks in front of me, it was convenient to search for things. I quickly pulled out a joint and lit it up. If I handed it to him directly, he'd probably bite it into pieces.
This was my first time smoking marijuana; it had a strange aroma. However, I wasn’t in the mood to savor it. Mainly because deep down, I rejected this substance entirely. After lighting it up, I handed it over to Jack’s hand.
The glow of the cigarette ember flickered brightly by my ear a few times before it extinguished. I turned to look, and he had finished a joint in just a few puffs. His addiction was quite severe.
This joint did indeed help alleviate the pain; although it wasn't as effective as Morphine, judging by Jack's demeanor, the pain was now within his tolerable range. He was finally able to speak normally again.
"It hurts abnormally. Did you clean the wound properly?"
I really didn't know how to respond to such a professional question. I could only recount the surgical process honestly.
"...I removed the damaged tissue, exposing your underlying muscle structure, and there was bleeding. However, some tissue at the edges is entangled with your muscle structure. It seems to have fused together, though it's not deep. But it spreads quite extensively. If I were to remove all of it, there wouldn't be much good skin left on your back. The areas I didn't touch—will there be any issues?"
Jack frowned. "I'm afraid there might be trouble."
Hearing this made me regret my decision. If I had known to clean it up better, considering I had already left his back in tatters, I shouldn't have left those hidden dangers.
"How about we operate again? To remove those..."
I hadn't finished my sentence when I felt Jack's body tremble slightly.
"There's no need for that. We don't even know if we can get out of here. I don't want to suffer again right before dying. If we can survive and get out, I'll go to a hospital for that surgery."
"Well... okay." Even if we did operate again, I wasn't very confident about removing everything completely anyway. After all, I'm not a professional.
After a moment of silence, I pondered why there were no vines rooted in my back. My explanation to Jack didn't hold up; he had been swallowed by the Green Light Wall and should have had something vine-like rooted inside him afterward. Just like us being suspended in mid-air by the Light Barrier creature, those vine-like things must have already penetrated our bodies. Of course, that included me; otherwise, how could I have appeared in mid-air alongside Jack?
But why were there so few vine-like things on my back? Moreover, they eventually withered away on their own without taking root in me.
These questions were ones I could only keep to myself and dare not share with Jack; doing so would only cause him to break down again and further destabilize his mental state.
However, I soon realized that I could only think silently by myself as I walked quietly away. I heard Jack's snoring; he had actually fallen asleep on my back.
I felt like crying but had no tears.
Waking him up was exhausting because carrying an unconscious person was too tiring; yet unexpectedly, after just a short distance, he fell asleep again. It was hardly different from being in a coma.
Accept your fate. I didn't wake Jack; it would probably be difficult to rouse him now. The surgery was a mental torment for me and a physical and mental ordeal for him. During this time, while the pain subsides, let him recover his spirit and strength. Once the effects of the drugs wear off, he will still have to endure more.
I walked slowly, but I never stopped. I knew that every time I rested, I risked losing the courage to stand up again, and even more so, I might not have the strength to rise. My enemies at the moment were hunger, thirst, and the cold.
Jack's sleep didn't last long; I guessed he was awakened by pain. When he came to, I felt him grip my shoulder tightly, which made it a bit easier for me to carry him. He didn't say a word or make any other gesture. Gradually, he began to gasp for breath.
This time, I didn't offer him marijuana or morphine; I let him decide for himself. If he couldn't bear the pain any longer, he would ask for it.
To my surprise, he held on. I could even feel his body twitching from severe pain, yet he still didn't request any pain relief. It seemed he understood that whether it was morphine or marijuana, it should only be used on him when absolutely necessary. As long as the pain was bearable, he didn't want to waste the little pain relief available.
I had to admire Jack's resilience. Just then, I heard the sound of water.
I froze. Something felt off; I shouldn't be hearing water but rather seeing it.
(To Be Continued...)
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