Visage | ONC 2023

SIX:

A grin spread across Gerry's face. "You've got this thing with trash, don't ya? Can't throw it out?"

"Uh..." My mouth hung open. I was sweating. Nervous. My hands shook. It took all of me to turn my head and not seem obvious, but when I did and I saw an empty alley, I sighed with relief. Riley and Fiona were gone.

"What's at the window, Axel?" Gerry closed the door to the front of the shop and stepped into the back kitchen with me. We locked eyes until he focused on the window behind me. His grin spread further, and he chuckled. "No one's out there, right?"

I watched him as he went to the glass, pressing himself against it for a closer look. He slid up, moving his nose against the window. I pursed my lips. "No, no one's there." I wasn't lying. If he had been here five minutes earlier, then maybe. But now?

"Nice." Gerry shot me a smile as he walked to the backdoor. "If no one is out there, then that means I could throw out the trash for you and be fine, right? A little fresh air."

Fresh air? Pinching my brows together, I chuckled nervously and shook my head. "Ger, ain't nothing fresh about alleys and garbage, man."

"No, there isn't," he said, wrapping his hand around the door handle. Then he leaned his head back and sighed. "Well, when I say fresh, I mean infected-free."

It couldn't be "infected-free," if we were infected. He knew that. And he had to know that I knew that, too.

He cleaned up a dead body.

Gerry yanked open the backdoor, taking in the deepest breath. Immediately, I panicked. Just because they weren't outside, their scent had to be there. Somewhere. And if he smelled it, he'd change, just like I did the other night.

Which means I can't get too close to that door.

"Gerry, wait—" I reached a hand out to grab his arm, but he already stepped outside. He took in another deep breath, laughing at the air. But that was it. No change. No difference in body movements.

He was normal.

"See," Gerry turned around, winking at me, "shame when your boss needs to be the one to throw out the trash."

I chuckled nervously, reached for the bag, and handed it to him. "Sorry, it was just—"

Gerry's mouth opened wide. I heard the crack of his jaw. I watched as he rolled his head on his shoulders, stretching back. "Gerry?" I gripped the trash bag.

"Gerry..." he whispered. He repeated his own name. Why?

"Are you okay, man?" I stepped back. A low groan slipped past his lips. If you heard a noise, common sense was to move the opposite way, right? I moved further. "Gerry..."

His eyes were red, filling with blood. As he opened his mouth to crack his jaw again, I caught the darkening of his jaws, the blood slowly seeping down his teeth. He was changing from Riley's leftover scent. And it was just me and him.

"Gerry—"

Gerry sharply turned toward me. His hand jerked and the back door slammed. Baring his teeth at me, a growl left him; loud, terrifying, and hungry. I dropped the trash bag and stumbled back. "Gerry—" I wasn't like the others, I couldn't be appetizing, but he didn't see that. His bloodshot eyes looked me up and down like I was a meal.

I raised my hands in front of me, keeping the space between us. "I don't know what's going on in your head," I did but I didn't want him to think about eating me, "but it's me, Gerry. It's Axel." I patted my chest. "Axel."

That didn't work. Gerry lunged in my direction. I sidestepped to avoid contact, then turned for the door. It would be the moment that it jammed, taking more than five twists and tugs to get it to open. Yet, it did and Bundo's front lights swallowed the shadows. The darkness.

But it couldn't do anything about Gerry.

He crashed into my back, snarling noises in my ear. I grunted as I hit one of the tables and rolled onto the floor. Looking back, seeing Gerry's once pale face darkened, almost purple, I was filled with dread. He changed. He was going to kill me. This was it.

"Gerry!" When he crawled forward, spreading blood across the floor, I lifted my foot and kicked him in the face. He fell back, the side of his face hitting one of the table's legs but didn't stop. He shook it off, clenched his jaw, and looked at me with wide, menacing eyes.

My heart was in my throat.

"Shit, shit, shit!" My foot slid on the wet floor as I tried to stand. I reached and grabbed a chair for support, but Gerry clawed at my leg. He yanked me back. I had no choice but to bring the chair with me and swing it at him, cutting the side of his jaw.

Blood calms the ache.

"Gerry!" I kicked him again. I crawled back on my hands. Each inch I put between us, he closed. He came closer, closer; his hands grabbed my shoes.

A fallen napkin holder was the only item in reach. It was small but metal, with sharp edges. I knew if I hit him hard enough with it, I'd stun him; at least, I hoped I could. Because when I turned to grab it, Gerry squeezed my legs and slid me toward him, pulling me in his direction. My nails clawed at the floor as I screamed.

"Flesh..." he hissed, his nails in my jeans. "Flesh..."

I turned on my back, shaking as Gerry pulled me closer. I leaned back for the napkin holder, but it was out of reach. Nothing. I had nothing. I was surrounded by blood, saliva, and fear. My fear. And after surviving a year of this world, I'd die in it... killed by the man who made me think I had a life again.

It's over now.

I chewed on my lip so hard I tasted blood.

I'll never see Riley again.

Tears burned my eyes. "Gerry." He crawled on top of me, trapping my chest with his weight. I coughed as I sighed. "Gerry, it's me. ME!"

I'll never see why I'm still here.

Gerry's hands lifted above his head. His fingers extended. His mouth opened. Blood and spit dripped from his teeth. "Flesh..."

I won't be here.

His hands came down. He grabbed the collar of my shirt, tugging it, ripping it. I screamed as I pushed at him. I clawed at his arms. Flesh from the scratches stuck to my nails. "Gerry! Gerry, it's me! LOOK AT ME!"

Tear. Riiip.

"GERRY!" I kicked my legs, bucking, trying my hardest to get him off of me. "COME ON, MAN! IT'S ME! IT'S ME!"

When he drew his hand pack, gripping a piece of my ripped shirt, he stopped. A groan slipped out of his mouth. I thought he'd hit me again, eat me, but he didn't. He sat back on my legs as his breathing calmed, his eyes brightened, and his hand fell on his lap. With blood slipping down his lips, he whispered, "Jonathan..."

I gulped, panting hard as I looked into his eyes. "No," I shook my head, "Axel." 

*
A/N:
Word Count: 11313
*does a little dance*
Thoughts -- Axel almost died here? Is anyone safe?