The Last Plague

Chapter Twenty-Six: Bit

The creature just stood there as I put in my arm. Why won't it bite me, why won't it let me get this over with? I wondered, still panicking from the undeniably coming moment.

"Bite him you stupid thing!" Henry yelled at it, as if that would help anything.

The creature just stood there, watching me. It only seemed to prolong the stress of the situation. My arm within easy reach of its mouth, it could bite me with only seconds of trying. I continued to keep my arm in there; the creature continued to stare at it in a daze.

"By the arm!" Henry shouted at it. "What's wrong with you? Bite the stupid arm!" he shouted angrily. He stared at the creature, it stared at me, and I stared back at it.

It seemed to be in a daze, then, unexpectedly, it slugged itself to the back of the box. It stood there for a second, then charged at my arm. With its hands, it grabbed hold of my arm. Then stared at it like food, pausing another moment. Its hands were cold and clammy against my arms. They had some of its body's slime on it. It gave me the feeling of disgust as it held on to it. Then, as quickly as it grabbed it, it bit me.

I do find it strange that the zombie didn't bite him, and my mind has run with many, many possible scenarios. It made me wonder if part of the person was still there. The zombies may have felt like it was getting offered the food, and it wasn't used to it. The strange scenario may have denied its normal behavior, therefore causing the zombie to pause for a few moments.

~Trina

A surge of pain traveled through me. Rachel ran up to me with a syringe and injected it into my arm. The pain started falling away, and I started feeling tired. My eyes became drowsy and I blacked out quickly. I couldn't tell if I had fallen asleep or blacked out.

For the next few days I would wake, only to feel exhausted, then fall back asleep. I tried to wake up for longer amounts of time, but no luck. Every time I woke up, my eyes would force themselves shut. Three days, that is how long I had to do this. I felt helpless, weak, and tired. The time I woke up before falling asleep always varied. Sometimes I'd wake up in the afternoon, sometimes at midnight, other times randomly throughout the day. I had woken up too many times to count during my sleep.

I finally woke on the third day. I felt the tired you would get in the morning, but not the exhaustion I had felt all the days before. I was laying in the same hospital I was in before. Except for this time I had multiple tubes coming in and out of me. I had a slight pain in my arm, but it was bearable. I couldn't see where the thing had bitten me; it was covered with a bandage.

What good would a bandage do? I asked myself. Whatever had been injected into me was already in me. Adding a bandage only seemed pointless to me. I started leaning up and felt a pain in my back. It seemed like an electric shock traveled through me. I laid back down with the tingling sensation of the shock.

"You're awake!" Henry shouted when he walked into the room. "I want to know why the zombie didn't bite you, but I doubt we'll ever find out." He came over and looked at me sympathetically, making my stomach turn and get nauseated; I found it sickening. He showed sympathy to me after what he had done and was doing. "How are you feeling?"

I wanted to snap back an answer, but I felt exhausted. I thought just ignoring him would work just fine; so I didn't say anything.

"Fine, don't answer me. I'm going to assume you feel great," he said, showing annoyance. The moment after he said this he walked out of the room.

The only thing I could do was lay there. I didn't bother looking for a way out. Even if I found a way out, I'd be too tired to even try it, and if I escaped, they'd be on me in moments and I wouldn't be able to outrun them no matter what I did. I just stared at the ceiling, not moving.

What's the point? The thought came from nowhere. It seemed to have popped into my mind before I realized what I was thinking. I knew exactly what I had meant. My mind, my own mind, thought about suicide at that moment. I had begun to question the point of my existence, my life, everything. What's the point? My mind replayed again. The more I thought about it, the more I questioned it. Is there a point anymore? Those words maddened me. The more I thought, the more logical it seemed. Suicide, was it a realistic option? That was the true question I should have been asking myself.

I hated the very fact I was thinking about it. I had never in my life even had the thought of it, yet here I was; laying in a hospital bed with nothing to lose. What do you have to lose? Your life is meaningless to others, there isn't anyone left who cares for you. Then the haunting question relentlessly came. Does your life have any meaning to you? The question haunted me, I didn't even know how to deal with my own mind. I was practically a puppet, being manipulated to do what others wanted. Henry and Rachel, they are just using you. My mind reminded me. It was true, they were using me. They didn't bother to try to hide it either.

You have your chance. The question came over me. Exhaustion, hunger, thirst, nausea, all things I was feeling. Now, this was alarming me. I didn't want to die, especially by ending my own life. You have a chance to do it. You never know what Henry and Rachel will do to you next. That would be all I had to do, but I refused to die at my own hand.

You could kill yourself, without killing yourself. That thought made me feel like I was losing it. My own mind seemed to be giving me advice that I didn't even know about. Nothing seemed to be right as it should be. Attack Henry or Rachel when they walk in. If you die, then you die; nothing you can do about it. If you survive, you get to be free. If they kill you, it won't be suicide; you aren't dying by your own hand. The thought seemed logical enough. Would it help though? Would there be a point in trying to escape from the tests and prison time? If he was able to escape Henry or Rachel, would he still be able to escape the entire fort?

Suddenly, I came to the realization. If I was going to escape them, I was going to knock them out or kill them. With the exhaustion I was feeling and the weakness I felt, I doubted I'd be able to knock them out. I'd have to hit their head so hard, they'd pass out. I was almost certain I wasn't able to do that. That left me with the only other option of killing them. The only way I'd be able to escape this place was to kill them. There wasn't any other way out.

Everyone knows you are special. The words replayed in my mind, remembering what Joshua had said. If I escaped Henry and Rachel, I might have to deal with everyone else on the hill. I didn't know if people would back away in fear with a gun, or if people would have guns of their own and shoot me. Of course, the only way to get a gun was to kill Henry. I didn't remember Rachel having a gun, but it was a possibility.

Die fighting, or escape. My mind went through what would happen if I attempted to escape. Or you can stay here and be their little rodent. My mind was angering me, making me want to escape and regain my sanity as quickly as I could. If I escaped, I could start over. I would regain my sanity and my suicidal thoughts wouldn't come back. Unless, of course, you go crazy out there and suicide comes back to your mind. Another reason not to try to escape, again, was given by my mind. It seemed to be taking both sides of the same argument. They both had their reasons for why I should do it, and why I shouldn't do it.

My mind stressed over the choice. It seemed to refuse to settle on one. I had to come to a choice, try to escape, or don't try to escape. I wasn't sure what to choose, but I was regaining my strength every second.

I was alone in the room for two days; enough time to regain my strength. All the time I was in there I seemed to be getting stronger, but hungrier. I was angry being alone for two days, but I couldn't complain. I really only had one choice that seemed logical anymore. The other choice just faded away into a dark abyss. I couldn't take being imprisoned and used any longer. The moment someone walked into a room, as long as they had a gun, I would attack them.

The moment I decided that a nurse walked into the room. She seemed unarmed, so I didn't attack her. She gave me food, then walked out without any words. I ate as quickly as I could, regaining more strength from my now-filling stomach at every second. The food replenished me, I was ready to make my escape attempt.

The moment I finished Henry walked into the room. I noticed his gun was in his pocket. The moment for me to escape had come; I was ready to strike.