Lean-to Crypt
By The Chronicler
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The bodies were stacked everywhere.
There was no ground. Just more bodies.
No sky. Just more dead, staring faces.
No air. Just the stench of death.
And it all weighed down around her, pinning her, trapping her. She couldn't move. She couldn't breath.
She tried to call out for her mamma. But only choked on the stench. Her little fingers flexed, trying to find the comfort of her parent. But they tangled in wet, sticky cloth. She blinked her eyes, but was blinded by red tinged tears.
`Oh, mamma' she wanted to cry. She hurt so much. Her head... her little feet... her chest...
Something flashed, filling the scene with half a second of light.
`Mamma!' cried her frightened mind as, through the blood and the tears, she saw her.
Only inches away from her own face, was her mamma. She stared at her daughter in a funny way, her brown eyes just looking... not blinking or crying or smiling.
Then the little girl understood. All the dead people on top of her mamma must be hurting her.
`Don't worry, mamma.' her little mind assured despite not being able to say the words herself. `I'll save you!' Though she couldn't move her arms, one was outstretched in front of her. Flexing her little fingers she managed to grab her mamma's collar. `Come on, mamma. I want to go home.'
But her mamma wouldn't come.
Those bright green eyes looked up accusingly at the bodies. `You let her go! We're goin' home! You let my mamma go!' And she jerked.
The bodies wobbled.
Hope sprung alive and she smiled.
But then the bodies were falling...
down on them...
on her...
burring her alive...
with death...
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Knuckles screamed. She tried to bolt up right, to escape, to get free...
But hands held her down.
"It's alright. Your safe!" quickly assured a soft voice. "Buckaroo! Help!"
None of it made any sense to the panicked little girl. All she knew was that she was trapped. Screaming for her mamma to come to her, to help her, she fought back.
"Ouch!" Buckaroo grabbed her fists and pinned them to the bed. "Damn it. There goes her stitches."
"What language is that?" Peggy demanded, trying to reach the panicked girl, but suddenly found herself faced with a language barrier.
"Hitia." Buckaroo answered. He didn't know much of the Indian language, but what he did know he quickly said, hoping she would respond.
But Knuckles’ fighting intensified.
"Out of the way, Peggy." Rawhide ordered, scooting her aside. "We gotta get out of the chamber." he informed them. Ignoring the blows, he scooped her up in his arms like cradling a small child, and lifted her up and out of the stasis chamber.
Surprising everyone, Knuckles suddenly quieted.
Rawhide paused. He and Buckaroo looked at each other.
"Over here. Lay her on the bed." Peggy directed. "Gently."
The two men hurried to obey, laying Knuckles out. Buckaroo started to cover her up, but Rawhide stopped him.
"Remember? She’s claustrophobic." he reminded him. "Probably why she reacted so badly to stasis."
"Buckaroo, her stitches." Peggy quickly rolled their patient's shirt up to reveal the large, ugly looking slash that ran from just under her left breast down and across, going deeper over her stomach, until it hit the lowest rib on her right. The stitches on the right had torn.
"Aw, damn." Buckaroo cursed. He grabbed a bandage from a side table and pressed it on the seeping wound.
Knuckles hissed, biting her lip.
Peggy quickly leaned over her, resting a gentle hand on her cheek. "You're alright, Jessica. It's okay. Just lie still and let Buckaroo fix you up." she encouraged, softly.
Finally, her green eyes fluttered open. "Peg?" she breathed, her voice weak and groggy.
Peggy smiled. "Yea. Nice to see you back in the world of the living." She glanced around at the plane. "Though you were supposed to wait until we got you safely tucked in at home."
"What...?" Knuckles winced as Buckaroo tapped the bandage into place.
"You were hurt. A sweet little Bambi kicked the hell out of you. Laid open your gut."
The girl frowned, vague memories coming to the surface. "I... I was trying to free it."
Peggy nodded. "That's right. Ryanna said you were cutting the deer lose from some wire or something. She called us for a quick pick up. We put you in stasis or you would have died before we could have helped. You didn't take to it too well."
Knuckles shivered.
Peggy brushed her fingers through her friend's hair. "It's alright. Go to sleep. Rest. When you wake up again, you'll be all fixed up."
Knuckles shook her head slightly. "Don't put me back..." she pleaded.
"I won't." Peggy quickly assured.
"No one will." Buckaroo added, moving to the head of the bed. After pulling his gloves off, he laid a hand on her forehead. "We're landing in a moment, will be at the Institute a moment after that. We'd have been bringing you out then anyway." He sighed. "But you have to lie still. Those are only patch stitches. We still have a lot of work to do if you don't want your guts falling out every time you stand up."
Peggy smiled. "And that's the technical terms." She pulled a light sheet over the girl. "Sleep." she encouraged.
It didn't take too much more before Knuckles was once again sleeping.
With a sigh of relief, Peggy ran her fingers through her hair. "She really is really claustrophobic, isn't she?"
Buckaroo took his wife by the arm and lead her to their seats beside the bed, leaving Rawhide to strap their patient down in preparation for landing. Over his shoulder, he asked "Did your research come up with anything about Knuckles’ parents? She was calling for her mother."
Rawhide shook his head. "Little bits. Pretty sure she was orphaned during the schedule caste massacre. She was found at the right region at the right time, but, beyond that..." He paused to frown. "There were some horrific stories about so many killed that they had to stack the bodies in shacks and what-not, stacked from floor to ceiling, wall to wall. So little care was taken, that sometimes the living was scooped right up with the dead. Not that anyone overly cared. Just touching the lower caste was enough to contaminate the so- called righteous."
"Oh, god." Peggy gasped. "Can you imagine? Being trapped in a lean-to crypt, buried by the dead?" She shivered and leaned into her husband's side for comfort.
Buckaroo glanced at the sleeping girl. "I bet she can."
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