Cured [ManxMan]

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The next few days were better in that my fever completely disappeared and my strength started to return. I could stand on my own, and could manage to stumble around the apartment for brief periods of time. The improvements came with setbacks, though, which I tried to hide from the humans but was only mildly successful.

I hadn't slept at all for the past two nights, since I woke still curled against Mattie after my fever finally broke. This, at least, I could fake by being very still and controlling my breathing, which I did often to help assuage the humans' worry. What I couldn't hide, however, was my inability to consume the broth Mattie continued to attempt to feed me. The few times I'd managed to choke down a few mouthfuls, it came right back out within the hour. Yet Mattie persisted, asking several times a day if I was hungry and if I thought I could manage to eat anything.

Worse, as my strength returned, so did my urge to consume human flesh. The day before, I'd finally had to admit this fact to Mattie after a particularly strong urge almost had me caving. Since then, Mattie had kept his distance a bit more, sleeping in a chair he drug in from the living area instead of the bed even though I told him he should take the bed—I wasn't even sleeping, why should I have the bed, though of course I didn't tell him this.

I knew he was only worried about me. He rarely moved from my side, even though I insisted he could go work or even just go sit in the living room with the door open so he could hear me if I needed anything—not that I would, I didn't need much of anything these days other than human flesh and they certainly weren't going to give me that. If it made him feel better to be close by, I wouldn't fight him on it, at least as long as I was fairly confident I could resist the urge to eat him. It was still comforting to have him nearby, anyway.

My arm was mostly healed, and I could move it without any pain, but still had trouble fully clenching my fist. Kiara assured me this was only because of muscle deterioration and did not mean anything was wrong, but I was still skeptical.

Every day, when she came to check on me, I saw the looks she sent Mattie's way, the disapproval of him still being so close to me. I wondered if she thought I should be bound again, as I had been when I'd first arrived. Honestly, it wasn't a terrible idea, but Mattie vehemently refused the one time I tried to bring up the idea, so I'd let the subject drop.

Even with my mobility returned, I spent most of my time in bed. It made the humans uncomfortable to see me up and wandering around knowing the infection was rearing its head again, and I had no reason to anyway. I couldn't go to the kitchen and make myself something to eat, as I couldn't eat. I could wander into the living room, but as the TV didn't work, there wasn't really much to do in there but sit on the couch and stare at it. After I stopped eating, I also stopped needing the bathroom, so there was no point going in there either, unless it was to shower, which I did on occasion, wondering how much longer I would be able to enjoy being clean.

So that's where I was, laying on the bed staring blankly up at the ceiling, watching Mattie out of the corner of my eye as he nodded off on that stupid chair, when the front door slammed open. Mattie startled awake and sat up, his wide eyes meeting mine before we both turned our attention to the open bedroom doorway as Ollie appeared there, out of breath and looking very frazzled, his cheeks red and his blonde hair sticking up all over his head.

Before Mattie could speak—I rarely attempted words anymore, the effort too difficult—the boy declared, "The wall is falling. We have to evacuated immediately."

While I sat frozen in shock, Mattie immediately leapt into action, standing and grabbing my wrists to pull me upright. "What do you know?" he demanded, glancing at his little brother. "Where is the breach? How much time do we have?"

Ollie wrung his hands together, his eyes darting from his brother to me and back again. I wondered if anyone had informed him of the state of my infection, or if his anxiety was just a combination of his usual weirdness combined with worry over the situation. "The section of the wall we've been working on repairs for was discovered by a whole horde of zombies. They think the smell of us all over everything from how many of us have been out there working on repairs over the last few weeks drew their attention. They've already started ripping it apart. Repairs weren't finished, so they're making short work of it. Ajay ordered an evacuation, all civilians are to gather in front of the main building and all able bodied fighters are to report to their assigned positions either protecting the civilians as they evacuate or holding off the zombies to buy time."

Honestly, just send Ollie to talk to them, that would buy us enough time to get to the other side of the city before that boy ran out of things to say. Emergency situation, time is of the essence, and he still manages to speak for a full minute without pausing for air.

Now finished, though, he bounced from foot to foot, his eyes going from us to the door, clearly ready to bolt. Had he been sent to warn us specifically, or is he supposed to spread the word to the rest of the base? Or maybe he just wanted to get back out there and kill some zombies or something, you could never tell with this kid.

Mattie cursed—in Spanish, as always—and pulled me to my feet. I flinched at the sudden close proximity, almost ending up back on the bed in my attempt to put distance between us, but Mattie payed me no mind, his hand staying on my wrist as he pulled me toward the door.

My unsteady gait and frequent stumbles significantly slowed him, and his attention was so focused on making sure I didn't fall on my face that he didn't notice Ollie disappear until we were outside, at which point his cursing—which had been a steady muttered stream—increased in both volume and speed.

Still, his grip remained firm on my arm and he refused to leave me behind, even when we reached the top of the stairs and our pace slowed to a crawl as I struggled to make it down without tripping all over myself. Mattie looked almost ready to pick me up and carry me down, but I shied away when he tried to get closer, afraid I wouldn't be able to control myself between the stress of the situation and the proximity.

It was amazing we hadn't heard the chaos from inside the apartment, as once we reached the ground floor, we were surrounded by people running about and shouting, some warning of the attack—in far fewer words than Ollie, I noted—others calling for loved ones. From the far side of the camp I could hear gunshots, presumably from where the wall is falling.

Mattie's voice joined the cacophony, calling for his little brother, still dragging me along behind him, but I knew there was little chance of Ollie still being close enough to hear over all the other sounds. I hated how much I was slowing him down, hated that there was a chance Mattie wouldn't make it out because he was too busy worrying about me, hated that he'd lost sight of the only family he had left because I couldn't keep up.

But then I had an idea. A brilliant, terrible, stupid idea that I knew Mattie was going to hate—honestly, I hated it too—but if it worked, and I thought it probably would... if it worked, I would save so many lives. And wouldn't that be worth it? My life for hundreds of others?

A sharp pain shot through my head, and I remembered another moment, staring down a herd of zombies with my gun in one hand and a knife in the other as my friends fled behind me. Somehow it seemed fitting that after everything, after getting the cure and almost recovering my humanity, that it would come to this choice again. Try to save myself, knowing others would die and that I was doomed anyway? Or make the sacrifice, and save everyone? Really, it was no choice at all.

I pulled Mattie to a stop. He glanced at me, but his attention was still on the crowd around us, his eyes darting around in search of Ollie, but I tugged on his hand until he finally turned to give me his full attention. I paused, swallowed, gathered my courage and my words.

"I have... an idea. Need to... talk to... Ajay."

Posted: 9/22/2020

Word Count: 1560

Oh no zombie attack o.o who saw this coming? Anyone? Because somehow I was laying some sneaky clues before I even knew this was going to happen lol. Let me know what you think, vote if you enjoyed, and have a wonderful week :)

<3Koda