Oops! Ang larawang ito ay hindi sumusunod sa aming mga alituntunin sa nilalaman. Upang magpatuloy sa pag-publish, subukan itong alisin o mag-upload ng bago.
THE HEART DOESN'T KEEP SECRETS. Every emotion is felt through every flutter of our quivering hearts. Emotions carry a dialogue between the heart and mind, allowing blood to pump into our veins like the currents of a river.
Dean and I haven't spoken a word to each other since Lucille death, and Mark's forthcoming execution, but his hand in mine was enough time to take his pulse.
I don't have to look into his mind through a PET scan to know Dean's secret.
I don't have to read his mind to know his secret. He was scared. His pulse told me, my pulse told me.
With the excuse of a chaos unfolding right before our eyes, I gripped on to the strap of my backpack with one hand, and my left hand didn't want to let go of Dean's. The warmth coming from his hand was the only evidence of life I can remember since this shit happened. As far as I knew, Mark was good as dead, begging for his life as he helplessly banged on the wooden door. Lucille was definitely dead, resurrected into a repulsive, discolored, living thing. But whatever she turned into, she wasn't the only one.
There were others, biting flesh off a patient's neck, patients screaming and yelping at us dead in the eye. I really wished they hadn't, because now I have the instinct to run without knowing where I'll end up.
I am good with one gulp of air, hoping that it won't be my last one. My velocity takes Dean by surprise, for he has to run too. Mark dragged me into the gym long enough for me to get comfortable around a treadmill. I wouldn't have groaned and bitched as much during my workout if it meant I would out run a mob of living corpses.
"Wherever the hell we're going, it'd better be a hell lot better than this!" Dean exclaims, referring to an ugly mob chasing after us.
"There is a passageway that the paramedics use for the emergencies. If anything, there won't be crowds there. My own gut isn't even confident of where we're going, "You have to trust me, because I can't even trust myself."
"That's a lot to fucking ask, Dawn."
"Not if your life depends on it." That'd shut him up, as I tried to shove all my fear into the back of my mind. My priority was to try and get us out alive. I take a look at my left and right, as if I was a pedestrian crossing the street. There were no signs of life, or death, coming from either side. I took this as a sign to use the staircase to go up and onto the rooftop. I verbally repeat the plan to my head to Dean, and he approves. He makes an addition to the plan, "We go to up to the roof to see if we can find any help. Before then, if we find anyone, we help them because that might help us."
My nod is enough for him.
As we progress towards the roof, Dean looks out for anyone or anything that were to run into on each floor. I don't know if his icy glare is supposed to chase anyone away, but right now, that was the only weapon we had to defend ourselves.
