Got any advice or questions, send them! Also yes, we did do a full water change after this video was done. We had to let the water condition overnight, once we were aware of the dead shrimp the other ones were carrying around.
Doodle Writing
Series: Umbagog, Community
Character: Alexi Kabalnova
Theme: "Ground For Divorce" - Elbow
Alexi really doesn't care for any day of the week, but Monday's are the worst. Especially when it involves any sort of killing on his part.
----
The pain shot from his right knee.
That was the knee that hit the edge of the dirt hole he'd slipped into first, and the one with all his weight on it. The giant Russian let out a hissing word not mistaken for anything but a curse replacement.
"You alright?" Asked the man beside him, forcing Alexi to lift his face.
"Yes. I am good, yes." He grunted, and planted his hands onto the dirt before him, pushing to his feet, once again towering over his friend. "John. There are holes, many holes, all over. Why this?"
"Oh, well you see, er, the land ain't so great on this part. Kinda crumbly. I was working it over few nights ago--" Alexi lost interest after the man rattled on about digging roots out and loosely packing dirt. He scanned the field they were working in. Once belonging to a football field outside of a school. No longer, now. It was covered in slowly budding crops. The spring air didn't help but make things bitter and cold. Winds were not Alexi's friend, either. He tugged on the lapels of his jacket a bit tighter.
"Say, you wanna go get an old friend some water?" John asked, patting a hand on Alexi's arm, catching his attention.
"Mm, yes." The Russian nodded. He took one last scan of the area. "The shotgun is left here." He pointed to the gun sitting against a wooden crate he'd carried out full of various gardening tools.
"Ah, yeah yeah." John waved his hand, grinning. Alexi took one last look at Farmer John. Then he turned back in the direction of the community and school. The walk back gave him some time to think about a few things he hadn't really had time to ponder over before. Li, namely. He still was confused as to the nature of the relationship they had between them. And to whether or not it would be appropriate for them to live together now. How would one approach a topic like that?
He pressed on thoughtfully, leaning his head back to see if there were some answers written in the clouds.
Nope. Nothing yet.
So much for the whole 'getting answers from the sky or god or whatever' people said. Alexi was pretty certain they had marbles for brains. But he wouldn't say that out loud. Farmer John certainly believed all HIS answers came from the sky. He thought his entire existence came from the sky.
'And when I die, I'm going right up to that big blue sky. Watch it, Comrade. You'll be seeing me goin' up home with wings on my back.'
Alexi didn't think so. But what did he know? Not a whole lot, he supposed. But enough to know he wasn't going to see some guy with wings flying in the sky anytime soon. Not without a plane anyways.
He shook his head with an aggravated sigh and grabbed up a water bottle from the storage built up for quick grabs. He popped the cap open to take a few swallows himself, and sighed. Back to Li. How could someone approach this topic... for that matter what was she making for dinner tonight? He was seriously getting hungry something fierce.
Picking up a second bottle to toss in the air, Alexi turned to start heading back, when he heard a sharp crack. Shotgun specific crack.
"John...?" His voice cracked, looking out to the field. He could see him all the way on the far end, firing away at something coming in from the woods.
Of all the times! Alexi turned, looking for a gun. He couldn't just run out there blind without a weapon. That would defeat the purpose of help. There wasn't much, but Alexi found the garden rake, and weighed it in his hand. the wood was still strong. It'd hold. He turned to start running for John, ignoring any crops he was crushing below his pounding feet. He watched while John shot two down. He watched while John went down. What pulled him down.
No. Oh no. Half a zombie. How did that get there? How did they not KNOW? "JOHN!" Alexi yelled.
"I'm alright!" The farmer yelled, beating the torso with a mouth on his leg brutally in the head, using the butt of the shotgun.
Alexi slammed the metal spiked end of the rake down onto the zombie, spearing it. He used his upper body strength to pull hard, ignoring the obvious sound of old flesh being torn, as he hauled the dead being up off John and away, by the spine. There were more coming. "We must get you inside, up there, Farmer John." Alexi said, turning to look at him, and stopped.
"Don't spose I'm getting much of anywhere." John laughed. It was a bit weak and helpless. His thigh was shredded. Part of his stomach.
"How did this--"
"They work pretty fast. You can't let your guard down." John replied, holding the shotgun up. "Get back inside, warn the others."
Alexi stared down at him. "Bozhe, tsarya khrani. Slavnomu dolgi dni day na zemli."**
The man turned, he looked to the almost shapeless forms crawling from the bushes. This was going to be the stupidest move he'd ever made. Alexi picked up the rake again, and he walked towards the first one. He gave a greeting with a smash to the face from the rod end of the rake.
No doubt others in the town were now very aware of the attack, as several had come by the field to offer aid, others instantly checking all the perimeters and defenses. Children, and weaker adults were sanctioned off in safety. All of it a normal drill by now.
Alexi hadn't even been aware of how much day had gone by, coming too from his rage, with a wet, squish sound. And another. And another. He slowly came to, the black evaporating into him looking down to a pummeled skull. One he was repeatedly smashing the rake into.
"Boyo. Boy...o. Russian. Reddie. Commie. White General. Ey. Ey." Alexi heard coming into focus, turning his head to look over.
John was laying in the grass, breathing heavy, his face drawn and pale, still holding the shotgun over his chest. "There you are. You're lucky no one else shot you, what with the way you dun carried on, comrade."
Alexi stared at him dumbly, a cold feeling in his gut that slowly became a solid, cold feeling.
Alexi quickly doubled over the corpse he'd been straddling to vomit, feeling the acid rush out of his system and through his mouth, burning his nose.
"There yah go. Let it out."
Alexi took his time, coughing, and purging a few more times, finally able to pull himself away, crawling over to John, wiping his face on a sleeve. "How are you, friend, Farmer." Alexi asked, spitting out some nasty taste to the side.
"Could be a bit better."
"Heh."
Alexi looked over, then felt alarm rise up again. "John, wait. We need to get you back--"
"Not going to happen."
"They left you here?!"
"They didn't see me under the bodies." John motioned to the corpse beside him. He laughed faintly. "I didn't want them too. Not really..." He winced. "In any condition to be going back home."
Alexi looked back to him. Oh, right. He looked down his leg and back to the weathered face of a man who'd probably been in mid-life crisis before the world decided to have one as well. "What do we do?"
"Don't think we can do much, old friend." John laughed. "Don't think I can be saved." He patted a hand on the larger Russian's arm. "But, you could sit here, keep me company till I go home."
"Home." Alexi scoffed.
"Boy-o. Don't take that tone with me. You know Preacher is right. There's a place for us after this."
Alexi didn't believe it. But he didn't argue. They both dropped it, sitting in silence under the slowly darkening sky. Alexi let his mind go blank, watching while the sun set, dutifully sitting beside John's body like a guard dog, holding the shotgun in his lap. Occasionally John made a noise, a groan, a cough. Right as the sky became this wondrous blister of bright orange and green, Alexi had lifted John up to help him vomit, feeling too numb to do it himself.
"Hey."
The night was bitter on the bones. Alexi turned his head, having lain his jacket over John.
"Yes, friend Farmer?"
"You know... I wasn't always called John. That's a middle name." The man beside him said. "I....wasn't a farmer neither. Parents did that." He wheezed.
"Why do you mention this now." Alexi asked, hearing silence for a few minutes.
"Thought... maybe someone might want to know." Came the reply at last. "In case... there really is nothin up there."
Alexi cringed, looking to him. "Don't lose faith you have, you need it."
"You're....right." John coughed some more. "Name was Calvin... Calvin John Shoemaker." That brittle wheeze. Alexi cringed. "I was... a grocery store manager."
Alexi arched a brow. "I know... boring right?" John coughed. "But... it was a pretty simple life. I.... I had a...kid. He...here."
That's when Alexi finally noticed the shaking hand holding something out. He reached for it. "I can't see."
"Don't need to. Look at it in the morning."
Alexi frowned, and reached a hand out to touch John's face. His breathing was shallow. Stuttering. But he was sweating and hot to the touch. He spent the night trying to keep John talking. To keep him going on about his life. His job, his wife, his child. His car, his cat. His mother. His father. Everything that made up his friend, before the world ended. Everything that made up Calvin, the grocery store manager.
Gray was the spotlight tone to the morning, the sun not nearly up yet, but light already spotted around them. Dew and mist covered the ground, making Alexi shiver with the cold. He looked over to John, watching his chest rise. Fall. He waited. Another rise and fall......and slowly another. Each one getting longer.
"I'll make certain you won't rise again." Alexi said softly, watching the man croak and wheeze. Then there were a few sharp breaths, as if he was trying. Alexi watched blue eyes go glassy. And he was gone.
Just like that.
Alexi pulled the shotgun up, checking to be certain it was loaded. He cast a glance to the sky, just as he fired the trigger, hearing the splatting explosion.
The gray sky had no man up there. No man with wings, going home to a place he fervently believed in.
He pushed to his feet, and started pulling the corpses off to the side in a pile. The last to go was John. Headless John, tossed amongst the pile of bodies. He'd have to come back with lighter fluid. Turning back to the school, Alexi turned to give the sky another try.
Nope. No man. And no answers either.
"Ne boytesʹ smerti v zemnom puteshestviy.
Ne boytesʹ vragov ili druzey.
Prosto poslushayte slova molitvy,
Dlya prokhozhdeniya grani boitsya."**
Alexi said out loud. To himself or to the sky, or the world around, he didn't know. But he did know he had to go finish that pile up before returning home.
---
* "God, save the Tsar! To the glorious one, long days give on this earth!"
- First three lines to The Prayer Of The Russians, also used as the National Anthem of Imperial Russia from 1816 to 1833.
** "Don't fear death in earthly travels. Don't fear enemies or friends. Just listen to the words of prayers, To pass the facets of the dreads."
- Untitled Poem by Aleksandr Blok, a Russian Poet who Alexi admires (and was partly named after)
