𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 | 𝐜.𝐛

1

Isabella

No one ever thinks that they'll be alive to see the world end. When you are, you fight like hell to see it go back to what it was. The last time I saw my family was three months ago. Ever since then, I've been on my own. I've met a few people here and there, some good, some bad.

The bag on my back weighs me down. It has everything I own in it. Clothes water and food are the only necessities we need these days. Phones, money, and luxury cars are worthless. A gun sits in the back of my jeans, a knife in the pocket of my bag.

All I can see are trees and the road in front of me. It's been about two hours since I woke up and I haven't eaten. Quickly, I slip a granola bar out of my bag and open it. As I'm eating, I hear footsteps behind me. They're too fast to be walkers. Turning, I see nothing behind me. Shaking it off, I continue walking while keeping my hand on my knife.

An hour later, I find a car on the side of the road. Quietly, I walk up to it and touch the hood. It's warm. It's been used which means someone is nearby. Carefully, I continue on down the road. At this point, I walk slightly in the trees, keeping the road on my left. A car speeds by me, making me crouch. It's the car from earlier. It continues on down the road before turning left. My gut tells me there's more of them that way.

After walking for a bit longer, I come across a small city. Keeping my hand on my gun, I walk through the city. There are buildings with broken windows and cars rammed into the side of them. It's a haunting sight.

Carefully, I climb through the window of a gas station. I pull my gun out and hold it close. Glass breaks under my boots as I'm walking down the aisles. Quickly, I grab medicine and food and stuff them into my bag. Making my way to the back of the store, I grab some waters that are leftover. Sighing, I look around and try to imagine this place before everything went to shit.

I can almost see little kids running to grab candy as their parents pay for gas or look for some snacks. The thought makes me smile to myself. It makes me think that there is hope for the world to go back to what it was.

Glass cracking behind me pulls me out of my thoughts. Turning, I see a man dress in all black lurking towards me. Before I can react, he brings his fist down on my jaw. My gun falls from my hands.

"You're a pretty one," he pants. He's big and has sweat dripping down his face. He bends down and grabs my ankles and pulls me closer to him. My gun is just out of my reach. Frantically, I begin kicking around, trying to get him to let me go or kick him.

"Let me go!" I shout. He straddles me and wraps his hands around my neck. His grip tightens and my hands search for anything to hit him with. They find a piece of glass. Picking it up, I shove it in his side. He shouts before falling off of me. Air surges into my lungs.

"You bitch," he grits. He leaves the glass in his side before pulling a knife out of his pocket. He pulls me back over to him and places himself between my legs. He pins my hands above my head and hovers over me. He grabs a cloth from nearby and shoves it in my mouth. He takes his knife and shoves it into my thigh, making me scream into the cloth. "That's what you get. I wasn't going to leave you awake for what I'm about to do but now I think I will."

"I wouldn't if I were you," a voice says. Someone places a gun to the back of the guys head. The guy behind him has a bandana covering the lower half of his face. The only things I can see are his blue eyes and blonde hair. "Let her go."

"And if I don't?" The guy holding me down laughs. While he's looking back at the other guy, I lift my leg and hit his jaw. He falls back and I scoot back. My hand lands on my gun. "I would have let you have a go at her if you'd asked nicely."

"Shoot him please," I hiss as I grab the knife in my leg. The guy doesn't hesitate to fire, killing my attacker.

"Are you okay?" He asks, looking over at me.

"Yeah," I hiss. Groaning, I sit with my back against the wall.

"Sam, what the hell is taking so long," someone calls out as they come into the building. They walk down the aisle and see the scene. "Holy shit."

"She was being attacked," the Sam guy clarifies. The other guy has dark skin and dark eyes. He's tall and also has a bandana covering his face.

"Holy shit, are you okay?" He asks. Nodding, I grab a shirt out of my bag and use my teeth and hands to rip off a chunk of fabric. I also dig some medical tape out of my bag. Taking a deep breath, I remove the knife and use a bottle of water to clean it. Then, I place the fabric of the shirt against the wound and wrap the medical tape around my leg. Once that's done, I rip a longer piece of fabric off of the shirt and tie it around my leg. "Damn, where'd you learn that?"

"Before the world went to shit, I was studying to be a nurse," I reply as I stand. Carefully, I put weight on my bad leg to see how much pain it would cause me. A sharp pain travels up my leg, making me hiss.

"You good?" The taller one asks.

"Yeah," I breathe. 

"You sure?"

"Yes," I assure. "I don't need help."

"Are-" as he starts talking, I go to take a step and my leg gives out, making me fall. They're by my side in a second.

"You can stay with our group for a bit," Sam suggests. Shaking my head, I scoff. 

"So that can happen again?" I laugh, "I'm good."

"We wouldn't hurt you," the tall one assures. "You need help."

"I've been on my own for this long, I think I'll be fine."

"And what happens when someone attacks you again and people don't come and help."

"Plus," Sam begins, "our group could use someone with medical training."

"Here," the tall one stands and extends his hand out to me, "you can stay until your leg heals, and then if you want to leave you can, but you shouldn't be out here with a hurt leg and people like him."

"Fine," I sigh, taking his hand. He helps me up and puts my arm over his shoulder to help me walk. "What are your names?"

"I'm Sam," the blonde says.

"I'm Kevin," the tall one says.

"I'm Isabella."