>>6023397Just as Mikhail thought of moving closer to the shadow, the constant pain coming from the deep thorn scars all over his body reminded him of the same mistake he committed once. "It's another of their tangles. It wants to ensnare me whole — just like then," he murmured, biting his lips and pointing the barrel of his gun slightly upward.
Shaking, he eased the grip on his rifle and distanced it from his chin. "Fuck, I wish I could just pluck out those devil blossoms one by one," he admitted, watching the patterned petals unfurl, their colors vivid against the bleak backdrops of the world.
As a rule of thumb, the more flowers one saw amassed together, the more vulnerable one became to their sprawling pollen. Not only that, but smaller Rosebeds were like cactuses in this freezing desert: filled with plenty of water, proteins, and a soothing warmth — it was all he could wish for. So close, but so far. The only way to safely secure a blossom would be to find a solitary one still growing out there, which was a very unlikely scenario — and oftentimes even set as a trap, although he didn't have the luxury of choiche.
Mikhail regained his composure, finally allowing himself to blink. And as he did so, the vivid red flowerbeds he stared at were now wholly murched and greyed out. And the Sun, once high in the sky, was now about to set. A shiver reached his spine as cold gusts of air returned to wash over his nape, completely ignoring the bloodied neckerchief he had wrapped around his neck.
'This thing must enjoy messing with my head more than spreading its seeds around.' The man clenched his teeth, veins showing under his worn trapper hat, and began to walk backward slowly retracing his steps, and somehow mustering the resolve not to turn and run.
Mikhail didn't hold any other thoughts until he finished counting two hundred steps away from that bridge view. "I've got to hold my shit together." He slung the rifle on his back and gasped for breath, holding his legs and coughing. What was he thinking, going so close to a flowerbed to chase after his nightmares? A few more moments there and he could have become their food, or worse, a Pollinator.
"The Spread seems worse than last time I came here. Well, water under the bridge... They must think I'm some easy prey," he said, grinning to himself as he grabbed the binoculars inside his slender coat.
He climbed the carcass of a car and set his sights on the routes leading to the sprawling city, its monolithic buildings somehow still standing tall after the bombs fell:
