Wake of the Dead | Two

Chapter Twenty-Eight | Killian

Killian's eyes widened, his breath caught in his throat. His hand clenched hard around Jasper's, his legs feeling weaker than they already were. They were planning on killing Jackson? Tom seemed reluctant to the idea at least. "If he's infected then he'll just waste away," Chris said bluntly. "Why wait? Put him out of his misery while we still can."

"N-no!" Killian couldn't stop the desperate stammer that left him. "No, you can't. You can't kill him."

"Only because he's your cousin?" Chris said, rounding on Killian. His lips pulled back into a small snarl, "Bit selfish to keep him alive and put everybody here in danger."

"Get away from him." Jasper said tensely.

"Does your boyfriend always fight your battles, Killian?" Chris taunted.

"That's enough!" Jasper's voice was loud and commanding. It even jolted Killian, Chris paused and took a hesitant step backwards. Everybody's eyes were on him now. "I'm the one he attacked, but we have to think through this. If we take him out back and give him the Old Yeller treatment then we won't get any information out of him," He nodded to Cohen, "Everybody's jumping to conclusions. Cohen, explain the whole situation." He narrowed his eyes. "All of it."

Glancing up at Jasper with confusion, Killian's brows narrowed. Why wouldn't Cohen tell them all the whole situation? Why would the doctor keep secrets from the group, especially when it came to Jackson's life? "This is insane!" Killian protested. "Listen to yourselves, debating whether or not we should take somebody's life." He narrowed his eyes and spat, "If we just kill him, there's no difference between us and the monsters outside."

Quieting down once Jasper gave his hand a comforting squeeze, Killian could feel the familiar and nauseating twist in his stomach. His arms shook as he laid his head against Jasper's arm, laced in makeshift bandages where Jackson had injured him. "If I may continue," Cohen said curtly, "Then I'll explain further."

As the situation began to calm down, Killian suddenly felt out of place. Like he didn't belong there, almost as if he was trapped in an invisible box with no escape. The air choked out of his lungs, his gut lurching. At any second now one of the group members could march across the house and kill Jackson, with him having no say in it. "Jasper," He squeaked out shakily. Everything felt wrong. It couldn't be real. I can't live right knowing my group killed him.

Jasper squeezed his hand again, another firm and silent reassurance. With his frustration mounting, all Killian wanted to do was yell. To make them understand. "He's been infected, but he hasn't died. From what he's told me, he was bitten a little over four weeks ago." Cohen crossed his arms. "The only theory I can muster is that he's caught some sort of mutated version of the virus, or perhaps his body just doesn't react like the rest of ours."

When nobody interrupted him, Cohen continued. "There's a possibility he could have caught something...in between."

"In between?" Harley muttered curiously.

"In between," Cohen repeated, "Two different mutations of the virus, one that infects the dead and kills its living host in the process, while another infecting a living thing and taking control without killing them." His voice grew dark. "Jasper, you remember those biters you talked about? The ones that weren't quite like the others?" Jasper nodded once, but said nothing. "That could be the result of a middle ground. Keep in mind these are just theories," He added. "I don't have the equipment to test any of these out. So that begs the question, should we deal with him now or wait to see what happens?"

"He's not just an experiment for you to toy around with!" Killian raged. "You can't just keep him alive 'to see what happens.' He's a person! He's my family!"