The Unmentioned

His Start

Clear blue glasses clink against each other in celebration.

Fireworks light up the sky and the air smells of gunpowder.

The forth of July in Boston.
Warm arms grasp around waist and hold tight to struggle in lust.

The beating of his heart is all she hears other then the boom of colored explosions in air.

His scent, intoxication and as addictive as the worst drug.

Roman, a young aspiring business owner and the girl, Susan, his assistant.

They've fancied an eye for each other for a while now.

Musk fills the room and the lights blink out.
Screams suddenly take place of cheers of crowds below.

As of the moment they are in a hotel suite on the top floor.

He rises from his place next to his lover and ends the flutter to renter the reality.

"What the hell is going on out there ?", he puzzled, looking out the balconys curtained plates.

His eyes widen in horror to the sight....

Cars aflame and people chasing others.

It was like he had seen in the news about the massacucr in Washington.

Susan stood by his side.
Her blouse unbuttoned and chocolate skin revealed.

" We need to get out of here...",she says in his ear, her tone was trailing by the scene before them.

Soldiers lined the streets shooting down those who ran for a church.

Not even that looked to be like a safe haven.

To the husk of her voice, his head turns in her direction and grunts in compliance.
"We need a car...", he says.

"I'll get our things..."

They knew what was to come.

All those news reports about people dying from bite marks and reported mass killings of hospital patients that showed some sort of symptoms for a disease that quickly overtook the body and put the victim to a death of the bite mark of origin of infection .

People were doomed before they even had a chance to know what they had.

"We need to head for those out post that they have been talking about on the news...", she says.

He nods her way and is off...

________________________________________________________________________________________

Breaking wood wakes Roman.

Susan was nowhere in sight, pack left by him.

His side ached from their running last night.

It's been three years since the out break and him and Susan were supposed to be one out to a Quarantine Zone.

More breaking wood alert him even farther.

He jumps up and hustles his aching side to groan from stiff pain.

" Ugghh....", he rubbed his face and stood.

His pack was his pillow and gun on his hip.

Wood creaks instead of breaking and his up.
"Susan...?", he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and walks into the next room.

He was getting worried, she never would leave so suddenly.

" Susan.", his deep voice was low and cautious.

His boots creeked on the wood from his weight.

Over the years he learned to be as quick as he could. Being slow was what gets you killed.

Creaking grew closer, he understood that it was too light to be a mans and steady to be an infected.

It was Susan.

He turned the corner and suspicions were proven right.

She was slow to face Roman.

He could see that she had been at it for a while now.

A shaking sound gave her away.

It was a light metallic shake, one that he knew from his first use of it.

He then understood...
In her hand was an unsteady hold on her gun.

Her once ivory nails dirtied by crusted black and burgundy.

"Su-"
"DON'T !!", Her gun wavered in her hands, rusted with fear.

She was bitten...

He could make out the teeth marks in graved in her right forearm.

She must have gone out on her own while he slept.

His teeth bore a hole in his cheek to keep from choking up on his own words.

" I know what happens to those who are bitten, Roman. Don't comfort me with lies...",they did love each other at one time.

That time was now over though in her eyes.

Stray tears escaped her eyes and rolled down in little streams.
Cleaning small lines on her dirtied cheeks.

"I went out to get supplies while you slept and I got cornered by three..., I-I panicked a-nd ran t-they cha-sed me...", her words held strong until the last line.

" I'm n-not an idiot R-Roman..., "her strength broke and betrayed her the gun found its way to her temple...", I-I know how our story would have ended...and I'd r-rather it be me...", her words were forced through sobs.

The gun clicked back " Don't look baby...",

"Susan...", he was feet away, the truth was inevitable. It was true that this was better than him doing it with her as one of them.

His cheek busted and jaw grinded down.

No matter what he would say, he knew that she was stuborn.

"I'm sorry we didn't make it to that island like you wanted to...",all stripped of emotional and stoic in some mirical of acceptance.

She'd seen it before...the pain of turning.

This was for him, Roman.

Her hands shaking stayed, but visual fear was gone from her eyes.
" See you at later..."

" Sus-"

BANG!!!.....

A thud, a flash and a splatter of red...

Fear, pain and anger numbed slowly at his senses to realize what had happed.

His hands were dotted in her and all he did was stare.

She was dead.