CYOA Page 44
"You can do what you want. I'm going to find a way to move him," you announce huffily; you know full well Joel won't leave you here (or if he did, he'd be bluffing and he'd come back in a minute, cursing under his breath!). You stomp off to find something you can use as a stretcher in the dining area, starting with the corner farthest away so that Joel can feel the full impact of your stomping. And, since you can see him watching you out of the corner of your eye, you completely ignore him -- as if you really expect him to take off.
None of the paneling on the booths wants to come off -- even the fucked-up ones -- so, annoyingly, it appears Joel was right about that. You could try cutting it out with your knife, but that would probably take forever and you'd have the cushion guts spilling out the sides. Maybe I can use... one of these tables? A long one... if you turn it upside down, you could secure the guy to the legs. Unfortunately, the tables are not the kind that have a leg on each corner; the long ones have two legs, centered, so if you lay him on there, you only have half the table to work with. But if you take two tables, and shove them together... that might work! You could put the man in the middle. You are happy to see the tables are not bolted in place like the booth ones; you topple one over, then another, and push them together. This could TOTALLY work... hopefully it won't annoy him too much having the tables meet right in the middle of his back... you wonder if they'll shift around so much that they keep jabbing him. You stare at the tables' undersides, thinking. If you turn them the other way... you'd probably need one more table to make him fit, and three tables seems awfully cumbersome. You consider trying just one table, right side up... but no, that won't work because as soon as the front leg hits a rock or something, it will tilt forward and slam the guy's head into the ground. ...or his feet, if you lay him the other way... maybe that wouldn't be so bad? If the back leg hits something, you're moving in the opposite direction, so all it can do is get dragged over it. You would just have to make frequent stops to adjust-- -Hey, where did Joel go? You were so busy pretending not to care what he was doing that you actually forgot to keep an eye on him.
He's not actually leaving... is he? No, he wouldn't do that. You just told yourself a minute ago that the only way he might do it would be as a bluff, and you won't give him the satisfaction of chasing after him, begging him not to leave.
Now, how do you get the guy up on the table without Joel's help? You definitely need to drag the table over to him, because bringing him to the table would be much more difficult. You try tugging on the leg of one of the tables, but since it's not situated right on the end, your feet keep getting in the way. Annoyed, you heave the table back onto its legs... and wish that Joel were here to take over and show off how much stronger he is, sparing you the effort. You tug the table a short way and then decide pushing will be easier. Just as you get behind the table and start pushing it toward the back of the restaurant, Joel reappears from the kitchen -- with a pallet under each arm!
"This might work a little better," he mutters.
"Awesome!" You smile real big. "So you decided to help me after all?"
Joel gives you a Look. "You didn't give me a choice."
"Yes I did." You scuttle over to him and wrap your arms around his waist. "Thank you!"
"Leavin' you here alone ain't an option."
You wish he would drop the pallets to hug you back, but you understand that he has to pretend to be irritated with you. "Well, there was another option I didn't say..." You grin up at him. "You could've tied me up and dragged me off against my will."
"Don't tempt me," Joel scowls.
You giggle and give him a peck on the lips before getting back to business, stepping back to check out Joel's solution. The pallets are the hard plastic kind with holes all over. "Okay, so... yeah, we need both of these..." What you really need is one huge pallet, but Joel said these were the biggest ones in the pantry. You take one from him and hurry back to the poor man.
You end up being quite proud of the makeshift stretcher you and Joel have created. The holes in the pallets offered plenty of tying options. You've cushioned his head with your hoodie, tied under his chin, and by wrapping him up in the bigger of your two blankets, his poor bare feet will at least not be dragging directly on the ground. You tried to coil his legs up so he'd fit entirely on the pallets -- you could tie them in such a way that they'd stay in place -- but Joel said he should be kept straight, and that his feet will be the least of the man's worries anyway. The two pallets are tied together so securely at the ends that they may as well be one. Much better than your table idea!
"When you get cold later, I ain't givin' you my jacket," Joel grumbles.
"That's fine! I won't get cold." You probably will, but you'll deny it... then you'll shiver (perhaps exaggeratedly), and Joel will sigh and give you the jacket -- which he likely won't even need anyway, because you get cold much faster than he does.
"Maybe he won't last 'til the sun goes down anyhow an' you can take yours back."
You're done scolding him for his pessimism; you just give him a look and hop up on your horse.
"Ellie."
You don't turn around; you make him walk over to you.
He rubs your leg. "Hey. This is a good thing, what you're doin'. I'm sorry for givin' you a hard time about it."
Aww. You look at him and smile a little. "Thanks. And thanks for all your help. We are doing it. And we need to get going now!"
You take 'patient check' breaks every couple hours to give the man some water and check that the knots are all secure. You don't have much rope left, so it's a good thing the guy's too out of it to want to get out of his little blanket cocoon and stretch or something. His condition seems about the same; if anything, he might be getting paler? And it's such a sickly grayish-yellow color... ugh. His forehead glistens with fever sweat, his eyes are glassy and lifeless... but he's conscious, sort of. He keeps mumbling and turning his head senselessly from side to side. You tell him he's going to be okay, that you're taking him to a hospital so he just needs to hang on for a little while longer. You're careful to position yourself with your back to Joel whenever you 'give the patient a drink,' because for some reason you just don't want to admit that he's not really drinking any of it. And you keep hoping, maybe this time...
When it's around that time that you and Joel have to decide when to stop and where you want to spend the night, you ask to see the map. "So we are... where? Here-ish?"
Joel moves your finger up a little; farther than you thought! "About right here."
"And that's the hospital? How far away is that?"
"I don' know... goin' at this pace, I'd say... six, seven hours maybe?"
You're going a little slower now that your horse is tugging a 'sled' and an extra body, but you haven't encountered any serious obstacles -- including other humans. You're happy with the progress you've made, and thrilled that your patient is still alive. "And you want to stop for the night, like... soon."
"An hour at most, yes."
"So, I was thinking..."
Joel frowns. "Shit. Why do I not like the sound of that?"
"Shut up. Six or seven hours after we've had dinner and slept and then get going again... is a really long time. But if we--"
"No."
You're a little taken aback by his interruption. "You don't even know what I was going to say."
"Yes, I do -- you were going to say we should just keep goin' so we get to the hospital in the middle of the night instead of tomorrow. You know I don't like travelin' out in the open at night. Especially with horses."
"So what if you don't like it? It might be the difference between life and death!"
"Exactly: ours. Not his."
You groan. "The horses are strong, they can rest when we get--"
"It ain't that. We have these little lights on our chests an' that's it. The horses are already tired. If one of 'em gets hurt... also, remember I said we can't take the highway into the city. Too jammed up with cars for the horses to get through. Collapsed buildings from saturation bombin' there, too. They said the whole area is like one big traffic jam... cars up on the sidewalks... the whole works. We're gonna take the most direct route, which is through these woods here--"
"Okay okay," you cut him off, impatient. "I get it, it's dangerous. If you're so worried about the horses, I'll walk ahead so I can see if they're going to like... trip over a log or something. Though I bet they would still see it--"
"A log? Maybe. A dip or a hole? Maybe not."
"I'll check for that, too!"
Joel sighs. "That ain't the only problem. Remember our lights in the pitch black are like beacons to anyone even remotely close by. They'll be able to see us, an' we won't be able to see them."
"Whatever -- you'll hear them! You hear everything!"
"Not everythin'. It's still too risky. Besides, everyone at the hospital's gonna be asleep."
"Not the guards, if they have any... and if they don't, we can go in and find some drugs and help him until they get there."
"We don't even know if they'll be able -- or willin' -- to help him."
"Willing? Of course they're willing -- it's a hospital. It's their job!"
Joel makes a 'tch' sound. "That don' mean shit. They don't have to follow any rules but their own. You think they'd help any of us if they weren't gettin' somethin' out of it?"
"Well, he's one of us now. I mean, he might as well be -- they don't know we just found him! I'll make them help him."
"So stubborn." He shakes his head. "It's crazy, Ellie. We ain't doin' this an' that's final."
You can recall at least five instances where Joel said something was final, yet you proceeded to talk him into doing what you want... although, he did bring up some good points.
If you persuade Joel to keep going until you reach the hospital, turn to page 82.
If you think maybe he's right and you back down, turn to page 88.