BITE ME ➼ C. G. 〖 #wattys2016 〗

Chapter 9

SOTC: Heart Attack by Demi Lovato
• So scared I take off and I run •

I curled up into the crook of my bed, the flashlight's beam pouring over my book. I shook my head in defeat, flicking the switch and trying to sit up in bed as quietly as possible.

Maybe Dad would understand if I couldn't get any sleep. Maybe he could tell me what's up with the news stories about the virus outbreak in Africa. Maybe I could fall asleep without the nightmares flashing before me.

I slowly twisted the doorknob and stepped in. Should I go to his office? That's where I'll get the most answers.

I tiptoed down the hallway and turned into the roomy space that Dad used as his home laboratory. It had desks with paperwork splayed out over the surfaces and a wheely chair that was pushed against the white wall. The only generic sciency things in sight were a microscope, two glass beakers and a box of rubber gloves. There was also a water cooler in the corner.

Before I decided to explore further, my eyes caught a piece of paper that had red marker slashed across the bottom. It was the only splash of color in the whole room. I walked towards it.

Why am I here? I thought. If he catches you, you're dead meat.

But I had to know. I picked up the leaf of paper, and it shivered in midair.

The title said "Antidote Tests". Then, there was a table with multiple names I didn't recognize. Lined up at the bottom, in red marker, were three words that twisted my mind into confused panic.

THREE MORE WEEKS.

•••

I woke up restlessly, with my hair plastered to my cheeks with sweat. I peeled it away and panned around our campsite, which was filled with mostly sleeping bodies. The sun was just creeping up beyond the horizon. On the road was a package of water bottles.

I knit my eyebrows.

"Oi, Rick?"

He was already awake when I came over. "Yeah?"

I pointed at the road. He squinted, then jogged towards it. Picking up a note from the top, he read it out loud.

"From a friend."

Yeah fucking right.

The group slowly woke up and wandered towards us, a few slitting their eyes at the water bottles.

The water would save us from our dehydration, but who knows if they are truly our friends?

Finally, Eugene shook his head. "I believe that this is indeed from a friend, and I volunteer to be an assurance." He then proceeded to pluck a bottle from the package, uncapped it and then held it upside down over his mouth.

Abraham slapped it away before a drop of water could hit his tongue. It landed about thirty feet down the road.

I could've mentioned that the package being unopened means that it wasn't tampered with, but I don't want to mess with Abraham.

Then, I felt something wet on my shoulder. Another droplet landed on my head, and I looked upwards.

Everybody's frowns immediately flipped around, grins spreading across their faces. People cheered, rushing to lap up the rain.

Carl looked ecstatic, bouncing Judith up and down. Although she was soaked, she gave a happy squeal as the droplets hit her tongue.

I tried to give a smile, at least, but I didn't have the strength to do anymore that that. There was too much loss and pain enveloping me. It made me numb.
I cupped my hands, letting the water come down. My mouth immediately felt less dry and sticky, and that was definitely better. I also took out my bloody dagger, letting the water course down through the grooves, making it shine in the dimmed light.

But our celebration was too soon. The walkers came moaning down the street, attracted by our cheers. I drew my machete, looking at the sky, which crackled with lightning, leaping from cloud to cloud.

I spotted Daryl gesturing at Rick, leading us into the woods.

I stood at the back, picking off some walkers with my knives. Slashing and jabbing and kicking, I fended a lot of them off.

Then, from behind, I felt teeth sink into my right shoulder.

Well, shit.

"YOU FUCKING TURD," I yelled at the walker, who was happily munching on my flesh. I tried to ignore the magmatic pain coursing through my shoulder, and instead focused on taking all the walkers down with me.

I screeched with frustration and decapitated a circle of zombies around me, before sprinting into the forest, shoulder still burning and stinging as if an entire swarm of wasps had decided that I was a good snack.

I finally saw the barn, which was big and red, like the iconic ones from cartoons. Carol shooed me inside, and I picked off a few more with my gun until the telltale click that I had run out of bullets.

Carol closed the door behind me, padlocking it tightly. The walkers (those little bitches) immediately started pounding on it, making the padlock jingle with the chains.

I looked at Carol. She smiled at me, and I nodded back. Is she going to say nothing about the bite?

I dropped my bag on a bench, wrapping myself in my now-soaking blanket. Then, from the safety of my little fort, I peeled off the bloody fabric.

It had bled through my tank top, but not my shirt quite yet. So that was why Carol hadn't said anything.

It looked more like a swelled gash than a bite. If I looked close enough, I could've picked out the teeth marks rimming the edges. Shredded flesh mingled all around it, bruises shadowing the wound.

I grabbed a tank top from my duffel, wrapping it tightly around the wound. I didn't want to burden the group with this, even though it would probably end my life before the night was over.

I took a sticky note and wrote on it: I'M SO SORRY. Just in case somebody got hurt by my zombie self. Then I capped the pen. Maybe I could make it through the night?

My eyes blurred with fat tears, but I tried to keep them in. When I squeezed my eyes shut, they leaked and mingled with the sweat left on my cheeks.

Who am I kidding. I tried not to sniffle so audibly. I'll be dead by morning.

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A/N: MWAHAHAHAHAHA! 😈

Don't worry, there's a lot more to this story. It's not over yet. 😊

QOTD: Fave band?
AOTD: Fall Out Boy but I really like X Ambassadors.

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Word Count:
1114

Edited 12-30-15
Edited 3-1-16
Edited 8-3-16