Waking up

Someone or something was ascending the stairs, their presence shrouded in uncertainty—friend or foe, they couldn't tell. Tension gripped them, beads of sweat forming on their foreheads.

Tap. Tap. The sounds of someone climbing the stairs drew nearer.

"Is it them?" Sylvie whispered to Fred, who stood at the front.

"I can't say for sure." Whoever it was, they didn't carry the burning torch that John and the others had taken with them. But the torch's flame could have gone out, leaving them uncertain about what lay ahead.

"John? Job? Is it you guys?!" Fred called out to them, but there was no immediate response. Then they appeared.

Three figures with grayish skin color approached, sending shockwaves through the group.

"!!!" Fred began to shout, "SHOOT--"

"STOP!! It's us!!!! *cough*."

"Don't shoot-!!!"

"We couldn't speak because of the smoke!!" the grayish figures explained, their voices choked.

Sylvie quickly halted the archers, preventing anyone from releasing an arrow prematurely. Thankfully, no one fired a shot.

Upon closer inspection, it was evident that these grayish figures were indeed John and the others, though their appearance was marred by a grayish hue.

"Good thing you returned quickly, or we would have thought something terrible had happened," Fred expressed his relief.

While the others shared in his relief, Sylvie dashed toward John, enveloping him in a tight hug.

"You reckless idiot, you've done it again!!!! Don't ever disappear like that again!!!" She scolded him, her voice filled with both anger and relief.

"Sorry…" John, a person typically devoid of expressions, didn't know what else to say in the moment.

As the group realized that they were facing their comrades rather than Dead Walkers, a sense of relief washed over them.

"What happened down there?" Wendy asked Job, her concern evident in her voice.

Job turned to face them, a faint smile gracing his lips. "We're safe now. The third floor is badly destroyed. There's no way those monsters could reach us!"

Exhausted and relieved, they collapsed to the floor. All their hard work had finally paid off, and they felt the weight of their accomplishment.

"WOAHHHH!!!" They erupted in cheers, even Bella and Nicole letting out sighs of relief.

Sylvie, however, couldn't help but notice that their faces were covered in a grayish film. She asked John about it, "But what's up with all your faces being greyish? It's as if you came out of a chimney."

John looked at her and replied, "Not just us. Take a look at yourself."

"Ah! What is this?!" Sylvie exclaimed as she rubbed off the gray residue from her skin. It had transferred to her when she hugged John earlier.

"It's ash. Everything was burnt downstairs, leaving nothing intact," Jack explained.

As they recounted their harrowing experience downstairs, they approached Bella and Nicole, where Kalsie lay unconscious.

"How... is he?" Job and Jack asked Nicole, who cradled Kalsie's head in her lap.

"His bleeding has stopped, and his breathing is stable. He's not in as much pain as before," Nicole informed them, reassuring everyone that Kalsie's condition had improved.

Relief washed over the group once more, but their eyes fell on Kalsie's severed arm, a painful reminder of the ordeal he had endured. They knew that when he woke up, he would have to face this grim reality.

"Let's rest for now. There's still a lot of time until sunrise," Job suggested, and everyone agreed. They needed to regain their strength before facing whatever challenges lay ahead.

******

A few hours later.

'What's going on....' A thought weighed heavily on Kalsie's mind as he slowly regained consciousness.

His head felt heavy, and his left arm was numb, rendering it practically unfeeling. With gradual effort, he slowly opened his eyes.

"Where..." His thoughts were muddled; he had no recollection of recent events or where he currently found himself.

"Kalsie! Are you alright?" Nicole, noticing his movements, anxiously inquired.

"Nicole? What am I—?" As his vision cleared, he realized that his head was resting on Nicole's lap, a startling revelation.

"Stay down!" Despite Nicole's plea, Kalsie raised his head and attempted to sit up.

"Damn it! What's with this pain!?" A sudden, excruciating ache seared through his mind, momentarily stunning him.

'This...' Moments later, he pieced it together. His left hand, previously numb, was now absent, and a sharp pain emanated from his elbow.

"Kalsie!" Everyone rushed toward him, alarmed by his awakening.

"He seems confused!" Nicole cried out, worriedly relaying his condition to the others.

And then, it all came flooding back to him. His memories returned—the explosions, his unconsciousness, and the horrifying severance of his arm.

"Hah hah hah." His heart pounded with anxiety as he spotted his severed left arm lying nearby. Yet, he forced himself to take deep breaths and regain his composure.

"Kalsie, are you alright?"

"Do you feel okay?"

"Don't disturb him! Give him some time to gather his thoughts! Bombarding him with questions won't help!" Fred's firm shout silenced everyone, preventing them from overwhelming Kalsie.

With Fred's intervention, a heavy silence descended as they patiently waited for Kalsie to speak his mind.

"So, this is it, huh? But what about...?" Kalsie's thoughts raced, and then he hastily turned to the group, questioning, "Don't worry about me. Tell me about the Dead Walkers!"

Unsure of how long he had been unconscious, Kalsie deemed their situation more critical than his lost arm.

"Please take this first. You've lost a lot of blood," Nicole worriedly offered him a water bottle, which he accepted gratefully due to his parched throat. Yet, he continued to search Job and the others for answers.

"It's under control now. We assessed the situation hours ago, and we're safe," Job calmly assured him.

"Is that so...? Phew... Wait. Hours ago? How long was I out?" Kalsie inquired, eyes widening in shock. If their predicament persisted while he was unconscious, the outcome could have been dire.

"Three hours, at most," Job replied.

"Three hours?" Kalsie was taken aback. Thankfully, nothing catastrophic occurred while he was unconscious.

"My arm..." He couldn't help but gaze at his severed limb, a heavy realization settling in. Despite the relief of their safety, he was now disabled with only one arm.

Nicole, noticing where his attention lay, voiced her remorse, saying, "I'm sorry... because of me, your hand..."