[2-8] The Campground

[Hiro Protagonist]

The jalopy bumped and rumbled along the rough dirt paths through the forest, headlights cutting a limited field of vision from the mist. As Karl piloted the jeep, Hiro reached down under the seat for the aforementioned medkit. Still holding the wound on his stomach closed, he scrabbled in the white plastic box for the morphine the producer had mentioned. It wasn't as if the pain was crippling, though; there was no pain, and the wound felt cold. Hiro figured it might be the onset of shock, or something else. But he was no doctor, and drugged half lucidity was better than suffering every time the tires went over a log. Finally finding the syrings, he pulled off the safety cap with his teeth, and jabbed the morphine into his leg, letting out a short gasp of pain.

-blam blam blam-
"Aaauugh!"
-splash-

The sting of gunpowder residue splattered his wrist, and just as he turned, another spear wielding pirate was creeping up behind him. His life was ended with a quick slash of the samurai's sword, Hiro struggling to keep his balance as the boat took another hit. Running to the edge, he leapt the six feet to the next craft, impaling another attacker as he made his way towards the aircraft carrier in the center of the Raft.

 "You can't kill your way out of all your problems, Hiro." said Barry, holding his head in his arms as Hiro ran past him on his way to his goal. "Sometimes you fail. And you failed this time. You failed me at least." The hacker tried to block the words out. He had to reach the clay envelope, he had to stop the spread of the Metavirus. Sadly, the Barry apparition spoke again. "Do you want to live? Or are you trying to fail, just to get away from it? You'll be back. But you dying doesn't pay for my life, Hiro. Hiro? Hiro Protagonist! Mister Protagonist, look sharp!"

Hiro snapped his eyes open, his vision bleary as he watched an indistinct figure crouched over him, removing his bloodspattered jacket and shirt. He realized he was lying down on his back, in the back of the truck, while Karl Jak was ministering to his wounds. Looking down at his torso, he could see the producer nimbly stitching up the slice on his stomach, sewing his abdominals back together and tying off the line.

"Can't have you slipping off while we're still en route, Mr. Protagonist!" Karl said cheerily, reaching for the machete lying next to him. He raised what Hiro recognized as his lighter to the flat of the blade and continued to speak while the metal heated up. "I'm going to need your technical know-how at the bunker. Shame about Barry, though. He will be missed, especially on Cantina Night."

The hacker coughed, his head a little fuzzy from the morphine. "You...we....we left him...back there. We need to...." Karl cut him off a bit harshly. "He's dead, Hiro. Dead. It's a shame, but you saw how much punishment Mr. Voorhees can take. We'd be joining him shortly if I hadn't come back. Which you should be grateful for." He pointed behind Hiro's head, just as he pressed the sterilized blade to the sewn up wound, cauterizing it and making the wounded ronin twitch at the smell of burning flesh. "I managed to grab the briefcase he'd been carrying, if it's any consolation."

Laying his back, Hiro let Karl finish patching him up, the producer ripping his bloody shirt into strips and bandaging up the samurai's torso. Maybe a little too eagerly, Karl stood up and looked at the now shirtless Hiro. "That's a good look for you, Mr. Protagonist. Very intimidating. Very fierce." He went around back to the driver's seat, leaving Hiro in the bed as he propped himself up against the rear wall. "Now let's keep moving; we're not out of danger until we reach a bunker."

Bunker? So Karl knew about this island.... "Where exactly are we, Mr. Jak?" The hacker called over the noise of the engine. The producer turned his head back and flashed one of his trademark smiles. "All in due time, my wounded warrior, all in due time."

Hiro has healed 4 points. (14/20)