The Tomorrow Series Fanfiction: Who Will Lead Us? - Chapter 6
This is the sixth chapter in a fanfiction of The Tomorrow Series by theun4givables.
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5
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Jazz and Ravi stood at the very edge of the City. They were almost at the desert itself, but they weren't far enough away from the Palace. A single convenience store sat at the corner of the street. Jazz gestured to it, wordlessly suggesting they stock up while they could. The gesture made Jazz's injured shoulder burn. He tried not to wince because he didn't want to concern Ravi. After all, they only had fifteen or so miles left, if Jazz remembered correctly.
Then, Jazz remembered something else. “Hey, Ravi? Why don't you go in and I'll wait outside? I remember this place. The cashier almost turned me in. Don't want her to recognize me.”
His stomach clenched with nerves. Since the announcement of the NB Purge, he had become even more cautious. Anti-Natural Born sentiment was the worst Jazz had ever seen it, no doubt thanks to Mitchel. Jazz pulled his cap down over his eyes.
Ravi said, “Sure, Blue” and entered the store.
Jazz shifted on his feet while he waited for Ravi to finish purchasing everything. He bit his lips; the man seemed to be taking an awfully long time. A cold wind blew by, and Jazz shivered despite his layers of clothing. It wasn't possible the cashier had recognized Ravi as an NB, was it?
Finally, Ravi exited the store with their necessary supplies. “You shouldn't carry too much. Don't want you stressin' that shoulder of yours.”
“I'll be fine,” Jazz mumbled.
Ravi didn't believe him. “You ain't fine. I don't wanna hear any arguin'. I'm carryin' most of the stuff.”
Jazz was about to argue again when he moved his shoulder, sending a wave of pain through it. Unable to help himself, he winced visibly. Ravi gave him a look as if to say “I told you so.” He didn't give Jazz very much to carry at all, and Jazz's shoulder did burn enough he didn't put up much of a protest. Jazz almost wished he had pain medication, despite not liking to take the stuff.
“So, you sure you know where we're goin'?” Ravi asked.
Jazz bit his lip. He didn't have a tracker this time, but he thought he remembered the way. Then again, he had been horribly sick by the last leg of his previous journey. He only hoped his memory was good enough to get them to where they needed to go.
He said, “I - I think so.”
“Guess we better get goin',” Ravi muttered.
He nodded his agreement, and they set off. The sun beat down on them, but Jazz didn't want to stay in the City any longer, not even to wait for sunset. The City had been unnerving him for days. Things already felt just plain wrong, so they set out now into the desert. He didn't have enough energy for conversation, so he and Ravi walked mostly in silence. Jazz tried to ignore how much his shoulder ached; it should definitely not be hurting like that. Still, he kept silent. What would be the point in telling Ravi how much he hurt? They had to make this journey, no matter what.
Ravi, of course, saw through Jazz's attempts at being stoic. “You okay, Blue?” he asked, concern obvious on his face. “You don't look so good.”
“I'm - fine,” Jazz grunted. His head swam as he spoke.
Shaking his head, Ravi muttered, “You ain't fine.”
Jazz didn't have the energy to spare for telling Ravi he was fine. Saying it once had taken enough effort. They continued on; Jazz tried not to stumble as he walked, though this proved difficult. His vision had gone funny, and, truth be told, he could hardly stand. Jazz didn't want to admit this, though.
Scanning his surroundings and his memory, Jazz thought they must be about three or so miles from the compound. Due to his condition, they had walked more slowly than they otherwise would have. Then again, the last time Jazz had been out this way, he had been sick, too. He hoped they would get there soon. Jazz was not dying out here, not before he saw Savin again. The news had said he was still “at large,” which meant - Savin just had to be alive. Jazz wouldn't accept anything else.
He took another step forward - and promptly stumbled, falling to the ground before he could stop himself.
“You're fine, huh?” Ravi asked wryly. He leaned down to help Jazz stand up again. “Just fuckin' lean on me, alright?”
By then, Jazz was too sick and too weak to object, despite still wanting to tell Ravi he could handle himself just fine. He couldn't handle himself, though. Even leaning on Ravi, Jazz was barely able to stay upright. The two men moved at less than a snail's pace, Jazz's head swimming seemingly worse every step he took.
When they arrived at the Compound itself, Jazz almost missed it because he was so sick and disoriented. The structure was mostly underground, and it was designed to be difficult to find. Only some kind of miracle allowed Jazz to locate it in his current state.
“We're here,” he murmured.
Ravi muttered, “Tell me they got a hospital in this place.”
Jazz smiled wryly to himself. “They do. Been - been treated here, before.”
“I ain't exactly surprised to hear this,” he said.
The door to the Compound opened. A familiar face popped out of it: Alex, whom Jazz recognized from his last stay here.
Alex smiled. “Well, if it isn't everyone's favorite gunshot victim. Don't tell me you got shot again!”
Jazz winced at the reminder of his current wound. “I - I kind of did.”
“He needs a fuckin' hospital, now,” Ravi muttered.
Alex's face turned serious. “You guys better get in here, now. It's not safe to stay above ground, anyway.”
Ravi helped Jazz enter the Compound. Jazz tripped on the ladder, nearly dragging Ravi down with him. Luckily, he managed to steady himself, sending a fresh wave of pain through his shoulder. By then, his head swam so much he couldn't see straight at all and could barely stand. In fact, Jazz needed both Alex and Ravi to support him as the three of them made their way towards the hospital. A part of Jazz worried he wouldn't make it, even now, but he had to survive.
“Jazz? What the fuck happened?” Savin. It was Savin's voice.
Relief flooded Jazz. He wanted to rush up to Savin and hug him, but he was too weak.
“I - got shot. Again. At least - at least it's the other shoulder this time?” Jazz croaked.
“Again? Christ, Jazz. I need to check your wounds,” Savin muttered.
Jazz was taken to an examining room. He flopped onto the table, wincing as Savin removed his shirt to check the wound.
“Got - got shot in my leg, too. I - I think that one's okay, though,” Jazz said.
Savin shook his head. “Christ, Jazz. You've got to be more careful. Honestly, I'm surprised you even survived the trip.”
Jazz could hardly stay upright, but he managed to say, “Had - had to see you again, Savin. Wasn't gonna - die before knowing you were - were okay. Heard about you - on the news.”
Savin said nothing to that as he examined Jazz's wounds. “Looks like your shoulder's badly infected,” he murmured.
“Kinda - figured as much,” Jazz said.
After saying that, Jazz could no longer stay upright or even conscious. The last thing he saw before he passed out was Savin's worried face.
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written for 500themes prompt #55. "Faceless and Nameless"
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5
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Jazz and Ravi stood at the very edge of the City. They were almost at the desert itself, but they weren't far enough away from the Palace. A single convenience store sat at the corner of the street. Jazz gestured to it, wordlessly suggesting they stock up while they could. The gesture made Jazz's injured shoulder burn. He tried not to wince because he didn't want to concern Ravi. After all, they only had fifteen or so miles left, if Jazz remembered correctly.
Then, Jazz remembered something else. “Hey, Ravi? Why don't you go in and I'll wait outside? I remember this place. The cashier almost turned me in. Don't want her to recognize me.”
His stomach clenched with nerves. Since the announcement of the NB Purge, he had become even more cautious. Anti-Natural Born sentiment was the worst Jazz had ever seen it, no doubt thanks to Mitchel. Jazz pulled his cap down over his eyes.
Ravi said, “Sure, Blue” and entered the store.
Jazz shifted on his feet while he waited for Ravi to finish purchasing everything. He bit his lips; the man seemed to be taking an awfully long time. A cold wind blew by, and Jazz shivered despite his layers of clothing. It wasn't possible the cashier had recognized Ravi as an NB, was it?
Finally, Ravi exited the store with their necessary supplies. “You shouldn't carry too much. Don't want you stressin' that shoulder of yours.”
“I'll be fine,” Jazz mumbled.
Ravi didn't believe him. “You ain't fine. I don't wanna hear any arguin'. I'm carryin' most of the stuff.”
Jazz was about to argue again when he moved his shoulder, sending a wave of pain through it. Unable to help himself, he winced visibly. Ravi gave him a look as if to say “I told you so.” He didn't give Jazz very much to carry at all, and Jazz's shoulder did burn enough he didn't put up much of a protest. Jazz almost wished he had pain medication, despite not liking to take the stuff.
“So, you sure you know where we're goin'?” Ravi asked.
Jazz bit his lip. He didn't have a tracker this time, but he thought he remembered the way. Then again, he had been horribly sick by the last leg of his previous journey. He only hoped his memory was good enough to get them to where they needed to go.
He said, “I - I think so.”
“Guess we better get goin',” Ravi muttered.
He nodded his agreement, and they set off. The sun beat down on them, but Jazz didn't want to stay in the City any longer, not even to wait for sunset. The City had been unnerving him for days. Things already felt just plain wrong, so they set out now into the desert. He didn't have enough energy for conversation, so he and Ravi walked mostly in silence. Jazz tried to ignore how much his shoulder ached; it should definitely not be hurting like that. Still, he kept silent. What would be the point in telling Ravi how much he hurt? They had to make this journey, no matter what.
Ravi, of course, saw through Jazz's attempts at being stoic. “You okay, Blue?” he asked, concern obvious on his face. “You don't look so good.”
“I'm - fine,” Jazz grunted. His head swam as he spoke.
Shaking his head, Ravi muttered, “You ain't fine.”
Jazz didn't have the energy to spare for telling Ravi he was fine. Saying it once had taken enough effort. They continued on; Jazz tried not to stumble as he walked, though this proved difficult. His vision had gone funny, and, truth be told, he could hardly stand. Jazz didn't want to admit this, though.
Scanning his surroundings and his memory, Jazz thought they must be about three or so miles from the compound. Due to his condition, they had walked more slowly than they otherwise would have. Then again, the last time Jazz had been out this way, he had been sick, too. He hoped they would get there soon. Jazz was not dying out here, not before he saw Savin again. The news had said he was still “at large,” which meant - Savin just had to be alive. Jazz wouldn't accept anything else.
He took another step forward - and promptly stumbled, falling to the ground before he could stop himself.
“You're fine, huh?” Ravi asked wryly. He leaned down to help Jazz stand up again. “Just fuckin' lean on me, alright?”
By then, Jazz was too sick and too weak to object, despite still wanting to tell Ravi he could handle himself just fine. He couldn't handle himself, though. Even leaning on Ravi, Jazz was barely able to stay upright. The two men moved at less than a snail's pace, Jazz's head swimming seemingly worse every step he took.
When they arrived at the Compound itself, Jazz almost missed it because he was so sick and disoriented. The structure was mostly underground, and it was designed to be difficult to find. Only some kind of miracle allowed Jazz to locate it in his current state.
“We're here,” he murmured.
Ravi muttered, “Tell me they got a hospital in this place.”
Jazz smiled wryly to himself. “They do. Been - been treated here, before.”
“I ain't exactly surprised to hear this,” he said.
The door to the Compound opened. A familiar face popped out of it: Alex, whom Jazz recognized from his last stay here.
Alex smiled. “Well, if it isn't everyone's favorite gunshot victim. Don't tell me you got shot again!”
Jazz winced at the reminder of his current wound. “I - I kind of did.”
“He needs a fuckin' hospital, now,” Ravi muttered.
Alex's face turned serious. “You guys better get in here, now. It's not safe to stay above ground, anyway.”
Ravi helped Jazz enter the Compound. Jazz tripped on the ladder, nearly dragging Ravi down with him. Luckily, he managed to steady himself, sending a fresh wave of pain through his shoulder. By then, his head swam so much he couldn't see straight at all and could barely stand. In fact, Jazz needed both Alex and Ravi to support him as the three of them made their way towards the hospital. A part of Jazz worried he wouldn't make it, even now, but he had to survive.
“Jazz? What the fuck happened?” Savin. It was Savin's voice.
Relief flooded Jazz. He wanted to rush up to Savin and hug him, but he was too weak.
“I - got shot. Again. At least - at least it's the other shoulder this time?” Jazz croaked.
“Again? Christ, Jazz. I need to check your wounds,” Savin muttered.
Jazz was taken to an examining room. He flopped onto the table, wincing as Savin removed his shirt to check the wound.
“Got - got shot in my leg, too. I - I think that one's okay, though,” Jazz said.
Savin shook his head. “Christ, Jazz. You've got to be more careful. Honestly, I'm surprised you even survived the trip.”
Jazz could hardly stay upright, but he managed to say, “Had - had to see you again, Savin. Wasn't gonna - die before knowing you were - were okay. Heard about you - on the news.”
Savin said nothing to that as he examined Jazz's wounds. “Looks like your shoulder's badly infected,” he murmured.
“Kinda - figured as much,” Jazz said.
After saying that, Jazz could no longer stay upright or even conscious. The last thing he saw before he passed out was Savin's worried face.
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written for 500themes prompt #55. "Faceless and Nameless"