Amnesia

Captain

The gunshot was extremely loud. I don't think I've ever shot off a gun in my life because the sound and the feel of it was so new. I also don't think I've ever killed anyone who's alive either.

I stare at the man who I just killed. His head is face down on the ground so I fortunately can't see him. The thing I do see is the blood that slowly begins to drip from the hole in his head. I try to contain my disgust but I'm struggling. I scoot back, kicking his dead weight off me.

I look around to see everyone dispersing in different directions. Infected are chasing after them and everything I see seems like it's in slow motion. I get to my feet, my body numb from adrenaline. I hurry away from the infected, running to the wall that is at the end of the neighborhood. The wall where my group hides behind.

The wall that I'll never get to.

I feel someone tug on my arm, holding me back. I scream in defiance, smacking them off without looking back. I keep running, my eyes locked on the wall.

"Help!" I scream. "Chris!"

I scream so loud that my throat begins to burn like I screamed it raw. I feel another tug, this time on my shirt. I run faster. I see the wall getting closer, I feel my feet beneath me pounding. I run and run but I know once I get to the wall I'll be trapped anyways.

Suddenly I lose all function in my leg. I fall onto my hands, my body skidding across the hot ground. I turn around and see a man, tall and very muscular, standing over me panting. I let out a sob of hopelessness.

"Just let me go," I beg him. "Please."

The man looks back for a second when he hears a loud scream, the scream of one of his colleagues dying. Then he turns back to me when he knows he doesn't have to worry about infected because we ran so far that they didn't even see us.

"Please," I beg again.

"Can't do that," he says. He grabs me by my arms and pulls me up onto my feet. Before I fall back down he grabs my waist and then easily slings me over his shoulder like a bag. I don't bother to fight back.

"Why can't you?" I ask, out of breath.

"Captain's orders."

* * *

Everything went in a blur that day. I could feel a pain in my leg and my arms, but it was almost like I was so drunk I couldn't feel anything. Though now I know it's adrenaline that's acting as a helpful medicine to numb my body from the pain that I can't imagine will be like when it wares off.

The man placed me in a house towards the back of the neighborhood. The sun has started to set, making it dark without the bright rays. But two candles sit on a table. I stare at the flickering candle light. Occasionally I'll blow on it just to watch it do a flickering dance.

Sitting here silently, I begin to feel it. The pain I didn't before. I've been stabbed today and I barely remembered that through all of the other shit that's happened. I bring my leg up from the couch and set it on the table next to the candles. I inspect it while taking deep breaths, trying to steady myself so I don't vomit at the horrific sight.

The blade didn't go in like I thought it did. Instead of going straight through my flesh in the middle of my thigh, it cut through the side of it. A chunk of my flesh hangs off as if it was a slice of ham. Blood is streaked down my leg and also my arms from the small incisions the other man made with his smaller knife.

All of my adrenaline is gone and now I'm just left with the burning pain of the wounds. I want to get up and look for a bathroom so I can see if the people who once lived here had some medicine of any kind to help me feel a little less pain, but I can't walk. I can barely even see straight.