Don't Talk To Strangers | BOOK 1

fourteen

Elle McBriar
July 22nd, 4 months and 10 days after the first zombie report

They hauled ass out of the van while I stood there in shock, shivering my tits off. I know I had to help, but I don't know how.

"What're you standing there for? Get inside now." Alex warned, pushing me inside.

I locked up the house. I was dark, eerie, cold. There was a broken window paine, where a bullet shot through and shattered it. A cold harsh breeze whipped us all as Gage and Alex shifted Paxton onto the dining room table. It was rectangular, a little short for him but we'll manage.

"Elle, what do we do?" Gage freaks, looking at me, "Why are you assuming I know? I don't know." I cried, feeling pressure on myself, "Because you know everything, what do we do?"

Okay think Elle, think! "O-okay. What happened? Why is he unconscious and bleeding?" I walked over to the table, Alex moving out of the way, "Wait, where's Riley?" He asked, "Bedroom closet." I rushed out, dismissing him. "He got shot with an arrow. We were l-looking around the building and the last door we go through is booby-trapped. He plucked the wire with his foot, next thing we know, there's an arrow in his chest." 

I close my eyes, my stress levels are beyond high at the moment. "Okay uh, t-the medical container, Gage. I need gauze, band aids, tape, the whole thing, okay? Scissors and a n-needle and thread." 

He ran out of the room and I was alone. "Hey Paxton it's Elle. I heard you got a little hurt, so I'm gonna make you all better, okay? Now this is going to sting, but I promise it'll be worth it. Because you'll be alive, okay? So, forgive me." 

Gage came back into the kitchen, the container on the floor by my feet. I knelt down, shaking hands reaching in. "Gage I need a wet cloth and a towel, now." I picked up the saltine and rubbing alcohol. It looks as though the boys pulled the arrow out, "First rule of being shot or impaled, don't remove the item!" I screamed as Alex and Gage came back into the kitchen. Riley was sitting in his high chair, Alex turned him to face the window so we didn't witness this.

"Alex I need light on his wound okay, Gage, I need a cup, now." 

Light was leaving us as day turned into night. As it got colder, the air got thinner and I felt myself struggling to breath, I've cleaned up his blood, making sure there's no pieces still in him. I pushed on his skin, my bare hands being coated in thick, syrup-like blood as it poured out of him.

I filled the cup with rubbing alcohol. Paxton still showed no sign of waking up. I didn't hesitate. I poured the entire cup of rubbing alcohol onto his wound. The blood washed away, falling onto the floor.

It was nowhere near ready to heal, but at least it won't cause infection, "Okay, I need the needle and uh, t-thread."

* * * 

You know when you're dreaming, and you have that dream where you fall, and wake up to your own body jolting awake?

That's your minds way of making sure you're not dead. Like an aftershock for your body. When you feel your heart racing and your pulse quickening. The way you open your eyes and you adjust into darkness.

How your head feels, after getting hit with a ball, or hitting it on concrete. A little lightheaded, dazed? Confused?

I'm dizzy. I've never seen so much blood before. 

I don't want to remember the past few hours. The sweat that fell from my forehead, the cold water seeping into my skin, making my clothes stiff and stale. The blood that stained my body.

Alex managed to make a stand for the light. I guess we have a temporary lamp for now.

Gage left, claiming he had to 'throw up' from the sight of it. And I don't blame him. I would too if I wasn't used to it. But I'm a girl, so.