Home Sick Vol. 2

Chapter 3: The Enemies

After hours and hours of staring out of my front yard, thinking of how sorry I felt for Zane, but how badly I wanted him dead, I finally came inside and looked into my freezer, almost sure that there was booze. I grab a half empty bottle of vodka and stumble my way to the couch.

I still think of Zane's blistering burns and how he may be able to move around even more. How much he'll hate me even more. How much, we'll both want each other dead.

"I hope you're sharing that." I hear someone say.

Walking from the shadows in the hallway is Kade, one of Draughons friends. He plops lazily onto the musky green sofa by me and holds out a plastic cup. "Glad to see that you're still around." I say, pouring the vodka into the cup.

He tips his head replying to me sincerely, "Didn't think you'd make it, but definitely glad to see you."

"Well, at least your honest." I comment back.

I filled my mouth with vodka, nearly spitting it all out from the vile taste... But I liked it when I swallowed it. The burning sensation in my chest gave me a slight adrenaline rush, but once I thought of the burning, I thought of Zane.

I took one more swig to get me at least buzzed and put the bottle back In the freezer. I'm glad we get a freezer that works though. Thanks to our genorator powered by gas. I continue to talk with Kade. "So," I exhale "What's your group's story?"

He sighs. "Well where do I start?" He says, "We were at the highschool when it happened, we got into our cars, gathered some family, and went down to y'all's camp with about thirty people."

I nudge his side. "Bah, I know there's more." I chuckled, "Give me detail, will you? What happens after?"

He nods before sipping his vodka."Well, we had a few sticky fingered punks, and we had to deal with them, so they wouldn't leave, and we had no choice but to kill them." He explained, "Then we had some people who disagreed with our desicion, and they tried to kill us, so we killed them... That leaves about... twenty people left until we leave. Twenty minus five-- fifteen on our ass and we can't do... anything... about it..."

He drops his empty cup, his eyelids shutting slowly. I hear his soft breaths and realize that he has drifted to sleep.

But I needed answers, "What do you mean that their on our ass?!" I demand as I attempt to wake him up by shaking him.

He drifts further, more and more into a sleep until I couldn't get any words out of him. "Dammit!" I shout with frustration.

My face turns red out of nervousness. I go into my twin brother's room who I assume is dead to see if anybody's in there.

My twin brother. His name was/is Trace... I completely forgot about him.

But how? How could I have forgotten my friend, my twin, my brother? I remember his face, the way his eyes would light up when he saw me... What had I done? I could've saved him... Oh my God, I could've fucking saved him.

Horror, grief, and anguish form into an animal that dwells inside of me. It claws to be released into the open as tears and a howl of agony. God, is it powerful.

As my knees fail me, I collapse into painful but muffled sobs, knowing that he's probably a zombie. I want to find him so I can make sure this isn't so...

But I know inside that I can't do anything. At all.

The animal knows this too, and it grows stronger.

I soon regain focus and open the door. On the bed is Johnson and Joe, sleeping on the queen sized bed with a Spongebob themed comforter. I slowly close the door, trying not to disturb their sleep. Then I go into my parents room.