𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 | 𝐜.𝐛

2

Isabella

It was a long walk back to wherever their camp was. We stop outside an old, run-down motel. Some people move two large trash bins out of the way before opening the gates. They help me in and all eyes fall on me. Kevin takes me into a room and helps me onto the bed.

"You situated?" He asks.

"Yeah, thank you," I reply, scooting back on the bed. He nods before leaving the room and leaving the door cracked behind him. It's nice to finally have a roof over my head and a bed to lay on. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. I can faintly hear their voices outside.

"Sam, Kevin, what the hell?" A guy curses at them. "You can't just bring people here."

"She was hurt, Mike," Kevin defends. "She got attacked."

"So, people get attacked all the time. We can't save everyone."

"She has medical training," Sam tells them.

"You'd better hope that Colby cares about that."

"I'm going to go take her some water," a girl says. A few moments later, a girl with brown hair and brown eyes walks through the door. She hands me a bottle of water before leaning against the wall.

"I won't be here for long," I admit. "Just until my leg heals."

"Well, we could use someone with medical training but it's up to you if you want to stay," she nods. "I'm Tara."

"Isabella," I greet, taking a sip of the water. "Who's Colby?"

"He's kind of the leader of this whole thing. I mean he found this place. He stepped up when no one else would. He's out on a supply run but he should be back soon."

"I guess he doesn't take well to new people?"

"Some stuff happened with the last people we let in. He's just cautious."

"Understandable," I nod.

"What happened? If you don't mind me asking."

"I went to get materials out of a gas station when a guy came in and attacked me. He choked me, I stabbed him, he stabbed me back. Then Sam came in and distracted him so I could get him off of me. Finally, Sam shot him."

"Damn," she sighs. "People have lost their humanity since this all started."

"Have you all come across any of the zombies?"

"Yeah, I think I'm more scared of the undead than the dead."

"Yeah," I agree, "people are scary when the laws don't apply anymore."

"Well, I'd better get going," she excuses. "I'm here if you need anything."

"Thank you," I nod. She nods back before slipping outside the door. Sighing, I fall back on the bed and stare at the ceiling. So many things have happened in three months. The necklace my mother gave me rests on my chest. Closing my eyes, I breathe and allow myself to take in the calmness for one night.

"Bella," my father calls. My mother and I are sitting on the couch in the living room. The news was filled with people who were going ballistic. People were eating other people. No to mention the people who were just taking advantage of the situation and stealing from stores.

"We're in here dad," I call back. He just got back from work. "What the hell is going on outside?"

"I'm not sure but there's a refugee camp we can go to," he hurries. "I need you all to pack whatever you can carry in a backpack. Focus on the necessary items. Leave phones and things like that."

Quickly, I throw a couple of pairs of clothes into a bag and get things from the bathroom. Then, I run downstairs and grab a few bottles of water and food. Mom and dad come downstairs with their backpacks on. Before we leave, I grab a photo of us and fold it up before putting it in my pocket.

"Bella," my dad says sternly. He looks at me and takes my hands. "No matter what happens-"

"Dad, I'm not leaving you-"

"No matter what happens," he says louder, cutting me off, "you need to protect yourself. This thing- this disease is turning people against each other."

"We're going to be okay," I assure. He reaches into his pocket and hands me his pocket knife.

"Just in case," he assures. Nodding, we follow mom into the woods behind our house. The weather is hot and humid.

"How far is the camp?" I ask once we're some ways away from the city.

"A few hours," he admits. My mom and I share a look. We were a very active family but a few hours of walking constantly in the heat was going to take a toll on us.

"We can do it," my mom assures. 

"Yeah," I smile, looking between the two of them. "We got this."

"I want to talk to you both about something," my father breaks the silence. We've been walking for about two hours now. "You know you can't trust anyone now, right?"

"What do you mean?" Mom asks.

"People are going crazy. They don't care about the laws now. They'll do whatever they want to whoever they want."

"Yeah," I sigh, "I've seen the stuff on the news."

"If I don't make it-"

"Don't say that," I hiss, cutting him off. I can't imagine a world without the two of them.

"I want you all to remember one thing," he ignores my outburst. "Don't trust anyone."

Colby

They open the gates as Corey and I drive-in. I park the car and we get out.

"Sam, Kevin, how'd it go?" I ask, opening the trunk of the car, revealing materials of all kinds.

"Well, we need to talk to you about something," Sam says nervously. Crossing my arms, I lean against the car. My eyebrows furrow as I look between the two of them. "There was a girl in one of the gas stations we went in. She was being attacked and she was hurt."

"What did you do?"

"We brought her here," Kevin finishes.

"Why?" I ask a bit too harshly.

"Because she would have died if we left her," Sam answers with just as much fire.

"Some girl dying isn't the worst thing in the world, Sam," I huff. He looks at me.

"Do you hear yourself?" He scoffs. "You would rather let an innocent person die than try to help her."

"She's injured and alone, Colby," Kevin reasons. "Plus, she has medical training."

"How old is she?" I ask.

"I don't know, around our age."

"What's her name?"

"Isabella." Corey perks up at the name, catching my attention.

"Does she have blonde hair?" He asks.

"Yeah," Sam nods.

"Colby, I think I know her," Corey explains.

"From where?"

"Florida. How the hell did she get here?"

"I don't know but we're going to find out," I answer, pushing off the car. "What room is she in?"

"13," Kevin answers. As I'm walking over, Tara rushes over to me.

"Take it easy on her, Colby," she whispers. "She's been through a lot today."

"I will," I breathe. She nods before walking over to Jake. Opening the door, I see her laying on the bed. Her eyes are closed and she's looking up at the ceiling. She sits up when I close the door behind me. She's stunning. Her hair is wavy and blonde and ends at about her mid-back. Her eyes are a light, icy blue. 

"Hey," I greet, "I'm Colby."