Survival Log

Vera's Survival Log

12:00 P.M.

It should've all gone smoothly. The plan was so simple, the only risk was the people still stuck on earth. I now sit next to Lance in the infirmary. It's all my fault.

I landed by the lab, sought out the paperwork and found it. It should've been alright. The population were still crazed but I got through fine. I shiver with the thought of anticipation. We shouldn't have gone back to Earth. We were so stupid, the whole plan was so stupid.

Once I found the notes, I tried to uncover anything else left in the lab. There wasn't much, a newspaper written about the attack, photos, a lot of useless items left here.

The communication device the League provided me chimed, making loud ringing noises. I answered and Vincent's voice spoke up, "Vera! Hurry and come back here!"

"What's going on? What happened?"

"It's the Wandering. They've come back and the ship's under attack. We need your help! Leave the papers!"

Was he crazy?  The papers were the only thing worth the risk of returning to Earth and he just wants me to leave them? My eyes scanned the papers, trying to collect as much information as I could. Thirty seconds, the only amount I gave myself to search the papers.

Plant roots, animal findings, medicines for cures, this was all pointless. It's impossible. It couldn't, wouldn't be all for nothing. Why would the League send us out here to find something that didn't matter. Then it came to me.

League had no idea what we were searching for. They were that desperate. We've lost against the Wandering. It was a fat chance to start wondering the world in search of an escape plan when we should've been helping the home we so quickly left.

I sprinted out of the lab. I needed to reach the ship. If the Wandering had ambushed us, what would happen to everyone? Are they hurt? Are they fighting back? Is Lance okay? I blink tears out of my eyes. I swear to God if Lance isn't okay, I'd blame myself forever.

I reach the ship and it's chaos. I grab the blade from my pocket and start fighting aliens. Their green blood goes everywhere. I  estimate about fifty are on the ship, killing members of the League. So far I'm unhurt, steady, and doing okay, although I haven't seen Lance.

I search for him, the dead lying on the floor. Memories of the attack flood into me and I'm scared. For the first time in my life I'm scared of what will happen. Scared that I'll lose Lance. Scared that I won't pull through this alive.

Another alien falls dead because of me. A good portion of them are dead and the rest try to crawl through the glass of the windows outside the ship. Vincent starts to steer the ship away from Earth, towards headquarters. Eventually we're out of the Wandering's range.

I catch my breath and start searching for Lance.

"Where is he," I ask Vincent. My mind is out of place, blood gushes from my shoulder but it's not so bad. "Where is he," I repeat.

Vincent's expression is lost. His eyes are dazed and his mouth barely tugs in motion to say the words, "He's hurt. Really bad, over there in the corner."

I rush towards Lance and the sight takes my breath away. This isn't Lance. This isn't my best friend that I've known for the past year. This is somebody else, someone who is broken. His arm twists at a strange angle and half his body is covered in blood. I try to look for something, anything to stop the bleeding but the Wandering destroyed most of what was left in the ship.

He smiles when I come to his side but he grimaces as the pain takes in the movement of his jaw. "Guess you couldn't keep me away from this fight, huh?"

Tears start to well up in my eyes. "I guess not, Lance."

"The notes weren't much help, were they?"

"No. You knew, didn't you?"

"Not exactly but I had my own theories of why we were coming to seek help on Earth. Are you injured?"

"Am I injured? Don't worry about me, you're the one who's beaten right now, Lance."
"No, I'm not beaten. I still have you."

His words create tears sliding down my cheek. He wipes one off with his hand and we wait in the corner. The dead still lie on the floor, red staining my vision. I hold Lance's side to propel him against the wall. He wants to sit up and as he does we talk.

"Just get me to the infirmary, okay," he requests.


I fall into unconsciousness besides Lance, waking to the sight of nurses rushing us to the infirmary.



The End

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