What We Become | Book Two

31. What Colour Were They?

"There's one over here!" they yelled.

They were stupid. Most of them were. They walked alone and only yelled when there was something of interest. If they were smart, they would have noticed we'd been watching them for days, learning their movements and trailing their paths. We could've attacked right away but we didn't. Instead, we waited. Because when they think they're alone they get too confident, too comfortable in the silence. 

The woman saw me first. Still, the confidence didn't fade from her eyes. Another Infected came from my left and caught her attention. The hope in her irises began to fade as the look of realisation flashed within them.

She hadn't anticipated being outnumbered.

Her grip tightened around the knife in her hand but as she flickered between the two of us, she didn't know who to aim it at. The rest of the group came from behind me and I led the herd towards her. She turned to run but I snatched out a crooked hand and grabbed the red hair that fell down her back.

She screamed, crying out for names who would only come when it was too late. I wound my arms around her body as she lashed out limbs in every direction. A weak arm lifted the knife higher and she swung it over her shoulder, landing it against my mouth. I gripped tighter as the herd swarmed around us.

Her green eyes fell and within a moment they were lost of all hope, replaced only with a look of defeat and hatred.

My teeth dug into her skin. It was tough and satisfying. I felt a sense of anger towards both the woman and myself as her screams fell into the silence of the forest.

She wouldn't survive this like we had.

The herd needed to eat.

*

"Em!" a woman shouted as the men in white coats burst into the bathroom behind her. "Oh my goodness!"

I looked down to the tiles where my knuckles were newly red, dripping with dark liquid. A fresh crack had shattered the mirror in front of me and glass covered the porcelain, shattering into a hundred pieces.

I looked up at the broken reflection and I was sure the person staring back couldn't be me. I didn't recognise myself, and my eyes were far from familiar. They were long gone, void of all colour and replaced by a singular black pupil. Just like before.

My skin had returned to its normal colour but it was patched with purple marks in places I didn't know there could be bruises. On the left side of my lip, a deep scar ran from the base of my nose down to the centre of my chin and I could only run a finger over it to convince myself it was real.

"Em!" the woman repeated as she led me back into the room, away from the glass. I was barefoot and had somehow managed to avoid stepping in any of it. "Sit on the bed. Let's get you patched up," she directed, gesturing to the blood that dripped down my arm. "This stuff is pretty valuable and I don't think you can afford to lose any of it at the moment."

"I told you she wasn't ready, Julia," one of the men muttered as they began tidying the mess.

"You can't keep her hidden from herself forever," she spat back.

The skin on my knuckles felt tight and raw as she sat down beside me. I could only see the picture of myself in my mind. The white colouring dominated my eyes and mixed with my skin, reminding me that I could never be human.

I didn't meet her gaze as she took my hand and placed it into a bowl of warm cloudy water.

The touch of the liquid was like a shock of electricity to my brain and I flinched as I remembered a similar picture. Something had happened to me before. It wasn't like my memories as an Infected. This time I was still human.

The recognition faded as quickly as it had hit. I stared at the wall in front of me, letting her wash the blood from my hand. The contents turned red, swirling around in white watery clouds as she moved her fingers from my knuckles.

"I suppose I should apologise for not showing you sooner..." she trailed off.

I swallowed the lump which had grown in my throat. "Why are you apologising?" I scowled, meeting her eyes which were swimming with guilt. "I wouldn't have done it either."

"I suppose I don't need to tell you that your eye colour isn't coming back."

"Yeah. I think I gathered that."

"What colour were they?" she asked as she pulled my hand from the water, letting the drops fall back into the bowl before covering my skin with a white towel.

"Blue... I think."

She smiled. "When I was younger, my mum was forever patching me up. I used to have a new injury every day..." Her eyes glinted with sympathy for a moment and she shook her head. "I'm sorry," she said. "Dr Rhodes told me you can't remember your family. I shouldn't have said anything."

"It's fine," I shrugged. "The thing is, I don't even remember if I have one. I can't be sad about something I don't know exists."

"I'm sure you must have," she said as her face softened.

"Even so, I'm a murderer now. Nobody will want to know someone like me."

"That's incorrect," she smirked. "I do."

My head cocked. "That doesn't count. It's your job."

Julia continued to tend to my knuckles, strapping bandages around them until I could hardly move my fingers.

"Do me a favour and be careful with the other one," she joked as she moved to empty the bowl down the sink. She paused before she lifted it, hesitating to release the water. "What made you do it?"

I looked over to her, meeting her stare. "I saw everything I was before. I saw what I did... Like I was doing it all over again."

"You're not one of them anymore, Em."

"Everything about me says otherwise," I sighed, leaning back into the pillows.

She emptied the bucket and placed it back on the floor. "Come on," she said, holding out a hand.

"What?"

Her smile turned to a bigger grin. "I'm taking you for a walk."

"Are you allowed to do that?"

She shrugged. "Who cares?" she paused again, smiling. "Come on. You're looking a little pale."