A World Apart

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

Logan 

By some miracle we manage to make it to the infirmary. A pathetic den of chairs and beds encapsulated by dusty curtains. At a glance it could be mistaken for a prison cell, and maybe it is, because that's all I spare it. My attention only strays to my surroundings for brief moments, enough to register when we're someplace new. Then it's back on Stella, watching the scarlet stream as it branches from her nose and streaks, agonizingly slow, down her cheek.

A part of me knows what this means, how dire the situation is. Internal bleeding, my mind tells me. From a head wound no less. But I don't want to accept this, the implications are too scary. So the other part of me succumbs itself entirely to the clutches of denial, a safer, happier place. She must have hit her nose against the glass, even though the bruise on her forehead suggests otherwise. That's all it is, a nose bleed. Broken at worst but nothing more. 

She's fine. She's fine. She's fine.

Soon the entire side of her face is covered in thin streaks of crimson paint, creeping up to her eye and down to her chin. Clinging to her skin in bloody tears before dripping away. I hug her body closer to my chest, try keep my grip on her as tight as possible to stop her body shaking too much with every step I take. It's impossible to keep her still, so I shift my hand until it's cradling the back of her neck, holding her the way you do a newborn. 

At some point we burst through another door. I barely register my feet now trampling through grass until I look up and see that we're outside. The steel fence towering over us, nothing but trees and the road on the other side. I follow its length as it curves up the side of the prison and spot the truck sitting idly where we left it. 

Relief manages to wriggle through the panic and fear. Even though Ava said she would wait for us, I had my doubts she would follow through on her word. It's comforting to find that in a group of wildcards, composed of a manic pixie, a drug addict and a now overly-confident coward, that at least Ava is reliable. 

Two of the prisoners hang back to hold the door shut, throwing their bodies against it in anticipation for the battering ram. It arrives before we reach the hole in the fence, filing through it one by one until we're all on the other side. Gale and I start jogging towards the truck, but the rest of the prisoners hang back, evaluating their surroundings. 

Have they not stepped foot beyond the fence in all this time? They must have, if not to get supplies at least for the novelty of it. From the way they're standing though, peering from the ground to the sky, you would think this is their first taste of freedom since being locked up. The men who have stayed back by the door aren't gifted this luxury. 

How long do they plan to stay there? There's not a single occasion I can recall where those brave enough to act as a barricade aren't engulfed by their decision. This time will be no different. I don't see an outcome where they make it to the truck in time. Gale and I have barely reached it and Ava is already jumping in the driver's seat.

"Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!" she's ordering. 

Joey has taken refuge in the passenger seat, Gale already jumping up onto the bed where Maisie sits huddled in a corner. I'm laying Stella down on it, starting to heave myself up when the door of the prison bursts open. Just what I thought would happen, the two men attempting to hold it at bay or thrown back, stumbling to the ground. They make a good effort of getting back up, but ultimately the infected keep them down. 

The rest of the prisoners have joined us by the truck now. One tries to scramble aboard hastily, almost stepping on Stella as he does. I shove him back before he manages to. Not because I don't want them joining us, because I don't want them jostling the truck in their urgency, afraid it'll cause more harm to Stella than what's already been done. Except once I'm on the truck myself, looking down at all of them, seven in total, I realize there isn't enough room for everyone.