13

715 35 4
                                    

Kate 

 

Liz was sitting next to me breathing hard, peering around the edge of the counter we were crouched behind. Hiding. Fearing.  

My heart was hammering in my chest and it was beginning to hurt. I can't remember being more terrified than this in a really long time. Liz looked just as scared as I felt, and that only seemed to make it worse. Seeing her terrified. Her eyes were dark in her terror, the pupils dilated so much that they were more black than green. Her shoulders were so tense that I could only assume that it was painful to maintain. But then, I can't imagine not being so tense. My own muscles ached and groaned their complaints as I sat with ridged posture. Liz had a nasty gash running down the length of her arm from the splinters of wood that had come down on us. Blood was staining her shirt, and she has accidentally smeared some across her cheek in an attempt to wipe some of the debris off of her face a moment ago. She reeks of blood and panic and sweat and warmth. I want to tell her that we'll be fine, we'll get out of this. I want to tell her that they just thought we were infected. I feel like I'd be lying though, so I stay silent as she grabs my arm. I can feel her shaking uncontrollably under her grip. She's not looking at me but I wish she were. It might help steady me.  

The past couple minutes both felt like they'd passed in a blur and all too slowly. My head felt the same way. Everything was fast and in slow-motion at the same time and it was disorienting. It's amazing really; how fear can warp your perception of reality. It's disorienting and confounding.    

Liz made a small noise of fear next to me as we heard foot steps on the other side of the counter, and I motioned for her to stay quiet. She pressed up against me and I let her, because it made me feel a little better even if I wasn't steady. Earlier we'd been joking around just looking for somewhere better to sleep than under a rock, supplies, anything. She'd just been telling me about how her and her mom had played in spilled flour. She'd probably looked adorable. Now we were trapped in a room with no windows safe enough to use an exit and only one door. I was beginning to have real problems with this floor plan. 

"I saw them come in here, they have to be here." Said a gruff voice.   

"I just shot at them. They're here, you idiot." Growls another, huskier voice.  

I close my eyes and I try not to think about how I might get dragged back to the facility, and how Liz might end up coming with me. I try hard to think of a way out, anything. I'd looked around desperately for an escape route but there was nothing.  Flashes of pain and blood, needles and tanks full of icy water. Nightmares. Scientists. Beeping and sawing and cutting. It all flashes through my mind, giving me a massive headache and making me begin to tremble wildly.  

Liz stifles a yelp as one of the men in something I can only guess is dark police gear steps around and sees us hiding there. He points a gun at her. I lunge at him instinctually. Looking back, it's a little impulsive. Just a tad.  

I can't let them take Liz there. Take me. Not her.   

The gun goes off as I crash into the larger man and I can hear one of the ceiling tiles shatter and fall to the floor. Dust clouds the air and my ears are ringing and I'm still disoriented when I hear the deep, raspy voice curse behind me.   

Liz screams my name. There's a sharp pain on the back of my head. Everything goes dark. It's all a distant memory now.   

I think maybe I should catch you up on our pleasant situation.   

---  

I'd told Liz about my experiences with that damned place that had kept me trapped for the majority of my life. I actually did it. I knew that I wanted to, but I just didn't imagine I actually would. It was both thrilling and nerve-wracking. I had no idea that it would be that easy either. I mean I was nervous about what she would think of me, but I was surprised at the amount of faith I had that she wouldn't reject the entire idea. She didn't just give my the pitied look. She'd looked at me like I was some kind of war hero. I would disagree, I know I'm not. But the fact that she didn't just jump at the chance to ditch me for a more put-together person was exciting. 

ApocalypseWhere stories live. Discover now