Flesh EaterZ

Chapter 4

*Cover by Rosie_013*

It took me about fifteen minutes before I finally finished stitching up Rebecca's arm. To be honest, I was pretty proud of how neat I had managed to do it. I then bandaged it up before cleaning the cut on her lip.

"Hey, it's ok. It's all done." I said as I gently smoothed out her hair and removed the gag. Her breathing was heavy. Her panting slowed down a little as she nodded at me and threw her head back onto the sofa.

"Its been long enough. Take the ice pack off." I tell Dillon as I grab some elastic bandages from the medical kit. Once the pack is removed from Rebecca's ankle, I wrap the bandage tightly around her ankle. Not roo tightly, of course. Then I fix it with some medical tape. "The ice should keep the swelling at bay. In the next two to three hours we need to reapply the ice but when we do that I'll have to remove the bandage and put it back on after to make sure it doesnt get wet. Can someone get a glass of water?"

As I wait for that to come over, I search in my back and pull out some painkillers. I'm handed a glass of water and hand that and the painkillers over to Rebecca, "Take these." I say. "We need to watch that the wound on your arm doesn't get infected. I'm going to get cleaned up."

After putting everything back in the medical kit, I washed of my hands at the kitchen and left the staff room.

Just as I zip up my bag I hear the staff room door close. I turn to it. Raphael is waking toward me.

"You done being Miss Doctor?" He smirks at me. His dimples show well on his tanned skin. His brown hair is a disheveled mop on the top of his head from the lack of brushing it.
I laugh. He walks until he is standing next to me. Turning back to the table I sigh, exasperated. I'm so fed up with this and it has only been about two days. Two days is enough.

Then I let my mind wander. That's a bad ide- What if we're the only people left? How long is this going to last? What caused it? What if my family are dead? Or worse, un-dead? I thought. I hate my brain. As these thoughts increase in my mind I could feel the familiar sensation of burning in my eyes. I try to desperately blink back the tears. Sadly though, i still sniffle a little.

"Hey, Jordan?" Raphael calls, "Jordan? Hey, look at me." He pulls my shoulder so I turn to look at him. My watery eyes meet his dark ones for a second before I curl my arms into my body and lean my head onto his shoulder.

The tears begin to flow freely as he pulls me closer to his chest with one hand on the back of my head. My body shook with sobs. I grabbed his shirt in my clutched fist as he pulls me closer, as though trying to protect me from these horrible thoughts.
To me there are five stages of crying:
1. Slight sniffles and tearing up.
2. Sobbing. Lots of it.
3. Uncontrollable and almost unrecognizable, pointless questioning.
4. Losing track of your point and thinking everything in life is horrible before finally getting back to the point again.
5. Finally calming down.

All the way through these stages, Raphael was comforting me; soothing me with his words. Once I had finished, and was just left with shaky breaths, he lifted me by the waist and sat me on the desk I was next to. I must look like a right state. My cheeks even felt swollen and puffy. My throat was sore and my eyes were burning. He stood between my legs and took my face into his hands, staring directly into my eyes. His are a dark brown; so dark they almost look black-and-white and they showed concern. His thumb stroked up and down my cheek bone before he asked the inevitable question, "What's wrong?" His voice and every feature of his body may have shown worry and concern but I still wanted to scoff at his words.

"What's wrong?" I cried in despair, "Our world is now taken over by a zombie apocalypse! People around us are dying- or worse- coming back from the freaking dead! I almost got bloody eaten- like what the actual f*ck?! And what if... what if they're gone?" The tears were falling again and flooding my cheeks.