Decimation (Ianthony Apocalypse AU)

day forty

chompers seen: probably about seven hundred

chompers killed: 1

near-death experiences: 6

human deaths witnessed: 4

friends left behind: 6

camps infiltrated: 1

dead friends: 2

When Anthony's eyes finally fluttered open, I was so happy I almost screamed.

They opened, slowly, and then closed again.

"Anthony?" I whispered, scooting closer to him.

They opened again, and he looked at me, groaning.

"Shh, I'm not supposed to be in here," I quieted him, smiling a little.

His eyes landed on his wrist, and his mouth formed a straight line.

"How bad does it hurt?" I asked, grabbing his hand. His one hand.

"Honestly?" He shrugged. "Not that bad."

I let go of his hand just to produce the Ziploc of small red pills out of my pocket. "Good. Then you need to take two more in the morning."

He instantly shook his head. "Ian, Kelly gave those to you. For your foot. I don't need them."

I almost laughed out loud. "My foot's just about healed. You just got your hand bitten off. I think you need them a little more."

Anthony looked back to his wrist. It was completely covered in blood-soaked bandages.

"Where the hell even are we?" he asked suddenly, as if finally realizing we were somewhere unfamiliar.

"You remember that office building?" He nodded. "We rushed you in the front doors and they didn't even question it. They just found someone good with stitches and sewed you right back up."

He raised his eyebrows. "So, who are they?"

"I have no idea. I've been 'in my room' since getting here. A.k.a.: in here, waiting for you to get up."

He smiled at me before observing the rest of the room. It was like any sort of manager's office, but with a bed in the corner instead of a desk. So far, every room I'd seen looked identical.

"Jesus, Anthony, I was so-"

"Stop." He looked at me firmly. "I'm serious. We don't need to talk about it. I'm fine. That's what matters."

I shook my head, incredulous. "I just almost got you killed. I'm... Jesus, I can't even explain how sorry I am."

He just stared at me. Finally, he rubbed his hand over my palm. "Now you know how I felt when Jonah told me you were dead."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "But that wasn't your fault."

"Exactly. And this wasn't your fault. Not one bit." He bit his lip. "Now you know how scary it is. And that's why we need to be more careful. Because we can't lose each other."

I leaned down and pressed my lips against his, closing my eyes. He was right: I couldn't live without him. If it weren't for these people in this building, for that ax, for Aaron and Jonah, for the pain medicine Jenna had given me, for the bandages and stitches they had here, Anthony would be dead. And I would be as good as dead.

As soon as I pulled away, he raised his nub-arm, shaking his head at it.

"Jesus Christ, I can't believe this happened."