Apocalypse [will not be finished]

Chapter Twelve

"Laurie?" The voice seemed far away, faded. Dream-like. "Laurie."

My body had been numb, but I could feel the blood rushing back into my joints. It hurt, but not as much as my head.

"Laurie, please? Can you hear me?" The voice was irritating - I just wanted to sleep, and yet it kept going. Cutting into my consciousness, pulling me out of my sleepy state and plunging me into reality. I could now feel the surface below me, a damp and torn blanket, but pretty soft.

A hand jostled my arm, and I feebly swatted it away to no avail. The shaking kept on, and soon I felt more nauseous than annoying. It was at that moment I swiftly sat up sideways and puked, retching the contains of my stomach out onto the floor. My throat felt gritty, like I'd been eating sand.

"Laurie? Oh shit, you're bleeding." I rubbed my eyes, trying to rid them of the crusty substance that had fitted themselves into my lashes.

"Stop -," I began to say, retching a couple more times before finishing my sentence, "Stop saying that."

"What? Your name?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"It's annoying." I heard laughter, and finally looked round to the person. My breath caught in my throat.

"You hit your head pretty hard, and you're still an arsehole." Quinn.

"Says you." My voice let me down, cracking slightly at the end.

"Do you still hate me?" He couldn't look in my eyes anymore, and diverted his attention to somewhere else in the room, a place I couldn't look in case the movement made me puke again.

I didn't answer. I didn't quite know what he wanted me to say. He licked his lips, sighing before standing up and stretching.

"Okay, well..." His wrists cracked loudly. "I did come find you."

I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, willing him away. He stepped out of my field of vision and shut a door loudly behind him. I muttered to myself, wiping my mouth with my sleeve.

I still felt sick, but less disorientated, and I carefully shuffled myself over towards the door behind me, away from the little puddle of vomit I'd left. I raised my hand, gingerly pushing back strands of hair to reach the source of the pounding headache that had been viciously throbbing ever since I regained consciousness. I let my fingers brush the wound, and they came back covered in blood. My stomach churned.

The door opened again, but this time a fresh-faced Luke settled himself next to me, nudging a cereal bar into my palm. His face, although clean, looked slightly weary. Almost as if he'd aged over the experience.

"The dog," He said, his voice croaky. "The dog didn't make it."

I nodded, and tried to pat his hand comfortingly. It probably just came off as weird, but I'd tried my best. I didn't care about the dog - it was just another mouth that needed feeding, an animal as dependant on us as we would've come to be on it. I was glad, in a way. No need to keep looking back.

"I'm sorry. But, why is Quinn here?" He looked up at me then, dirty brown eyes laced with green that seemed to shine. Maybe he was about to cry.

He explained what had happened - Quinn following us, circling around instead of going inside the shop and ending up where we'd jumped - finding two, injured bodies and a dead dog. He'd helped as much as he could, he said, carrying us away into a little warehouse a little way off the shop. Keeping us safe.

Ha. Safe.

That was the whole reason Quinn didn't come with us in the first place - our decision wasn't safe enough, wasn't quite as stable as he'd wanted it to be. I still felt angry. When Luke stopped talking, I nodded and ran my fingers through my hair, attempting to untangle the orchestra of knots that had settled in it. I was thankful to find my hairband still on my wrist (although it was getting pretty loose by now) and tied my hair in as neat a ponytail that I could manage.

"Alright, well we need to get going." Luke glared at me as if I was crazy.

"Are you crazy?" Knew it.

"I need to find my sister. Are you forgetting that?"

"Yeah, but you've only just woken up. Heck, you just threw up breakfast."

"I don't care. This is how it goes: if I'm well enough to sit up, I'm well enough to find her." He scowled.

"You're going to get yourself killed."

"You're the one who nearly got mauled by the flipping dog."

"Shut up." I groaned, and stood up, ignoring the dizziness. "I'm not going."

"That's nice. Bye." I still had my backpack tightly strapped onto my shoulders, so I didn't need to ask where anything was - I just walked out, yawning as if this was the most casual thing in the world.

My heart was beating faster and faster, but I blanked the overcoming feeling of fear and digested the butterflies as I passed Quinn. He was sitting cross-legged, a knife balanced precariously on his finger. His smirk was suffocating. I walked faster, guiding myself through in my head, getting closer and closer to the door that would finally get me out and getting more and more worried that Quinn wasn't going to stand up and stop me. I didn't want to do this alone - but I didn't exactly want Quinn with me. I only wanted one person, and it was doubtful that she was even alive right now. I bit my inner cheek hard again, a punishment for the thought and then snapped round, facing Quinn.

"You're a shithead, you know that? You can't just fucking do that. You don't get to say you'll stay and then piss off as if I don't mean a thing. And maybe I don't, but you didn't have to do that. It was a dick move, Quinn."

He looked amused, and it angered me further.

"The whole reason I'm in this mess is you, and yet you're sitting there as if none of this is your fucking fault. No wonder you don't have anyone else." That one hit home.

He stood up, eyebrows furrowed, and let the knife drop to the floor. Everything about him burnt deep grooves in my skin, every little smile or movement.

"If you're so smart, then go." I stared at him blankly. "You hate me, it's pretty obvious. I messed everything up. But I won't follow you anymore - I'll still look, but not with you." He left it at that, walked straight back out, leaving his cold words in a now empty room.

I tried to convince myself I didn't care. I walked swiftly out of the room, finally finding the right door and ending up outside. I stopped right then, as the door slammed behind me. I stopped, not because of Quinn. I stopped, not because of the completely empty streets in front of me.

I stopped, because the sun was shining. The clouds had parted slightly, letting it through.

It was so bright, I had to cover my eyes, and even then I couldn't stop myself from smiling. I opened the door back up, yelling Quinn's name, and then Luke's, and then Quinn's all over again. They came running, and paused just as I had, faces raised in awe. The warmth felt so good - I was beginning to forget what the sun felt like on my neck and cheeks, the way it tinted my shoulders red in the summer.

Luke was jumping around, tugging on our wrists, getting us to venture furter out into the heat. This was a phenomenon - but when Quinn pulled us back, hands like hot coals against my skin, we realised that heat was not the only thing the sun had given us. Because over there, crawling out from behind a dustbin, was some kind of grotesque mutation. We disappeared back inside.

"Shit." Quinn muttered.

I couldn't have put it better myself.

- - - - - -

I'm terribly sorry about how long this update took. I needed to get my passion for writing back, and I think I've finally got it. It may also be a poor quality chapter, but I will try and make them better. This story needs a lot of editing.

Kaycee x