9.1 Aftermath
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MAYHEM ON EARTH

Mayhem on Earth logo

 


Chapter 47: Aftermath

 

 

 

  Drake awoke. His body ached. He thought of getting up. He then remembered the events that last took place: Rein blowing up Steve, himself, and Drake. He relaxed; he didn’t want to get up. He lay and pondered in gloom for a minute, before realizing his surroundings—he was at the hospital, in the same windowless room he’d been in many times before.

  “Man, there’s so much work nowadays. ‘Specially ‘ith all the injured peeps from the Expedition and the Mayhems ‘thin the Walls.”

  Drake kept his gaze on the ceiling and didn’t say a word.

  Doctor Poll came into his view. For the first time, he wasn’t wearing headphones. He wasn’t faking a smile either, but nor was he frowning. His eyes looked a bit sad, but he had a weak smile. He looked off at a wall.

  “Iss been ‘leven days since the battle…” Poll glanced at Drake’s face for a second. “Your dad’s here. General Rain, too, right ova’ there on ‘at bed. Gotta say, he hadda whole lotta injuries, but he’ll make it—his condition’s stabilized, though he’s still unconscious…”

  He glanced again.

  “Y’know, your recovery’s been 'mazin’! You had a concuss’n an’ some burns, though fewa’ ‘an las’ time. Gotta break it to ya, but you got one on your face. Last time, you shielded it ‘ith your limbs, didn’cha? B-but look on the bright side: it looks sorta cool. Like a battle scar. Anyhow, last patient I had that could heal this fast was—”

  Poll paused for a minute. He looked behind him.

  “Er… I suck at explanations, so maybe I should letcha talk to your dad for a bit.”

  He left his view and Bill appeared.

  “Drake… I heard about what happened…”

  Drake spoke. “What happened after I passed out?”

  “…Steve was killed by the explosion the General caused. After that, thanks to the new Exosuits, the Defense Force was able to take care of the Mayhems that entered Rencia. In the end, the humans who mutated into Mayhems were executed. The Wall was repaired somewhat…”

  Bill stopped. He knew Drake wasn’t paying attention. He was still a child, after all. He was only interested in what was close to him. It was the same reason he decided to stay in the Defense Force and didn’t pay attention to the politics in the city.

  Drake moved his hand to his chest, but stopped short.

  “…ah, that’s right. I didn’t get a chance to tell you after the Expedition: my necklace broke when I was struck by lightning, so I threw it away.”

  Hearing this, Bill appeared surprised. His face then shifted to a serious one: his eyebrows furrowed, his teeth and fists clenched, and he looked down. Eventually, he closed his eyes and shook his head.

  “Everything should be fine.” Drake has developed by now. “Still, though, I wish you’d kept it: it was the last way for me to remember my old home.”

  Drake was not in the mood to question what his father meant by that.

  “Well, I think I should leave you be for some time.”

  Bill went to the door. He paused.

  “There’s a Smummr happening tomorrow. Try to attend if you can, Drake.”

  With that, Bill left.

  Drake slowly sat up, careful not to aggravate his injuries.

  “Doctor Poll, do you think I’m useless?”

  “Useless? ‘Course not. You did a lot to help Rencia. You saved it from the Gorilla, went on that Expedition…”

  “I’m not talking about that. I mean, I’m unable to reach my own goals. I wanted to protect all my friends and family… but, I couldn't save him. Every time, I can't save them, and I can only blame myself for that. I work hard to improve myself for the next time. So, then, why do I always fail?”

  Poll took a seat and sighed.

  “Life's just like that, man. Sometimes, it surprises you, an’… no matter whatcha do, you're facin’ odds ya just can't beat. But, when it's all ova’, you shouldn't give up. You should work ‘ard ‘n continue to change yaself. Prepare fa’ the unexpected but don't expect ta always win when ya do. If you give up, only loss awaits ya, but if ya keep tryin’, maybe someday, your work’ll pay off. I learnt that ova’ my life, and partly from you.”

  “I see…” Drake chuckled weakly. “My advice went a full three-sixty, but this time, with more to it.”

  Drake turned to see another bed to his right. Gunther Rein was sleeping on it, wrapped in bandages like a mummy. Now that his head was clearer, he couldn't hate Rein. He knew that he had to make a difficult choice, but Drake still felt unsatisfied with the result.

  “I know this sounds weird, but I only recently realized that friends are people to depend on.”

  “Whadya think they were ‘fore that?”

  “…a burden.” Drake reddened.

  Poll tried to suppress a laugh.

  “…anyway, I’m not so sure of this now. Steve betrayed me, the Defense Force members, who I thought I could trust, went against me…”

  “Woah, woah. Hold on, ‘ere. I’m not sure what happened in ‘at room, but Steve didn’t get a propa’ chance ta explain his betrayal, right? You know ‘at more ‘an anyone, which’s why you was tryinna save ‘im. Castin’ ‘at special case ‘side, the others’ behavior was perfectly predictable. The Defense Force was jus’ followin’ ordas. ‘Sides, they had reasons to kill Steve. They had people they hadda protect in Rencia, jus’ like you.” The motives for killing Steve were clear. “Friends’ll help ya when your motives don’t stron’ly oppose theirs.”

  “Ah, you’re right.”

  Drake knew the reason the soldiers wanted Steve dead, but he didn’t think about it from their perspective—that it hurt them to go against their friend and that it was the better of the two terrible choices for them. So, he could rely on them as long as he kept their motives in mind. Doing so sounded like a pain—he never used to think much about what others thought—but the other option was to try to do everything himself, which was impractical. It would be hard, but it was now necessary for him to grow.

  “I guess I owe them an apology for hurting them.”

  Dr. Stephan Poll smiled. Drake’s developed lots in only the course of a few months. He doesn’t hate people blindly, and he can control his rage now. This is ‘cuz of his determination to improve himself—a good quality ta have. He’ll accomplish some great thin’s in the future; I just know it, Poll thought optimistically.

  “First, you got a Smummr waitin’ for ya. You oughta take rest,” Poll said as he left the room.

  Yup, even the Authorities can tell he has potential. That’s why they postponed Smummr until he woke up. Let’s see what he can do.

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