The Days Are Tired (Book #1 of the Dark Skies series) - A Zombie story

Chapter 14:Wither

Hands gripped me by the throat, dirtied nails digging into my skin. It stung as blood dripped down my neck. Air escaped me altogether. I kicked out at my attacker, a pale man with dark eyes, catching him in the stomach. I glimpsed his red jacket before he was on top of me again biting into my skin.

The sad thing about it is I didn't even get the relief of screaming because his hands were still choking me.

His hands prevent me from making any sounds except for gurgling noises. I choked on my own blood and the lack of air. And then I'm shaken violently, making my head snap forward.

I opened my eyes, being met by complete darkness. I still felt warm hands on me. So I started hitting, flailing my arms in all directions trying to get away from the clawing hands.

"Hey, stop it!" A deep voice cried out in annoyance. And suddenly my arms were pinned above my head as I was pressed against something solid. A wall perhaps? But the intense darkness made it almost impossible to see anything.

But a more pressing issue kept gnawing at my brain. Those creatures didn't speak. They just moaned or screamed. As if deflated like a balloon I stopped struggling. All strength left my body. I could hear myself breathing hard - as if I'd just finished miles of running. The hands are still holding me but they slightly slip on my sweaty skin.

"Can I let you go now?"

I nodded my head. But then I realized that likely the person talking to me couldn't see the gesture in the dark.

 "Yes." I cringed at the sound of my voice. It sounded raw and scratchy from crying. And I couldn't tell if the liquid on my face was sweat or tears. Maybe it's both?

The strong hands released me and I slid down the wall. My legs were unable to keep my dead weight up. My rescuer lets out a huff of frustration as their strong arms engulf me, lifting me from my newfound spot on the floor. The person begins to walk. We must have left the room we were in because I could see traces of moonlight from a window.

I look up barely making out the outline of the individual carrying me. I rack my brain getting nothing. And then it clicks. Will. The person carrying me I mean. The boy with the axe that barely talked. I hadn't really recognized his voice when he had spoken to me. 

My body relaxed more into him seeking out his warmness.

I was finally able to think clearly and remember where I was. After Beth, Parkson, and I were rescued and let into this building we met the others. Afterward, Cain had said we should find somewhere in the office to rest. We had picked a smaller room with no windows. It must have been a storage room, housing only some old chairs and scattered office supplies.

I reached up to my neck where the monster had bitten me. It had all been a dream. I felt my eyes tighten as an oncoming headache made its presence known. Where was he taking me? He turned a sharp corner making my already aching head throb in protest.

We entered another room lit with a camping light. The sudden brightness caused me to blink rapidly.

The space was another storage room. And it has no windows which is why the light is on. Cain said that we couldn't turn on lights at night so that nothing could see that we were in there. Will must have gotten around that rule by only using light in a room without any windows.

I'm ruffly laid on a makeshift pallet, composed of some pillows from the downstairs lounge chairs and a single jacket. "Lay here for now. Maybe you'll sleep better with the lights on," he said.  His hands leave me as he stands briskly, heading towards the open door. 

Was he already leaving?

A pang of guilt hit me as I realized I'd just taken over his sleeping space. Leaving him to either stay awake or find somewhere less comfortable to lie.