The Last Plague

Chapter Forty-Five: The Sacrifice

Trina stared down at me, tears flooding on her face. "No, please, no," she begged me.

"Leave, please, just go, the longer you stay here the hungrier you'll get. Now go, I can't talk for much longer." I begged her. Trying to get her to leave.

Grayson walked up to me, looking down solemnly. He put his arm on Trina's shoulder. "Trina," he said softly. "It's what he wants. He's going to die, there isn't anything I can do about it. Please, the longer we stay here the more we'll starve. We have to go now, please, it's what he wants." Grayson said, patting Trina's shoulder softly.

"Trina, go," I said softly.

She seemed to give in. She slowly stood up and started drying her eyes. "I've been trying to hide this, but I don't think there's a point anymore," she said as she rolled up her pant leg.

It revealed a small bite on her calf. It didn't seem like it got into the blood, but it was visible.

"That's not deep enough for you to turn into one of them," Grayson told her angrily. "You would've become one of the zombies if that was a real bite by now."

"I was bit in the forest!" Trina shouted at Grayson.

"That was over a week ago, you aren't going to become a zombie. Please, we have to go." Grayson started calming his voice.

"Trina," I said quietly, "you have to go. Please, I'm going to die no matter what you do. Just go and at least have a chance of living," I started begging her.

She slowly stood and let her tears drip onto my chest. "I love you," she said. She then ran away with Grayson behind her.

I love you, the words repeat in my mind. I stare at the calming sky above me. There is a faint wind outside that calms me. The clouds slowly pass by. The sky is a calming blue. A cloud is hiding the sun behind it, casting a shadow that cools me. I stare up at the sky. I feel the small pillow of grass they made under my neck. I feel the cool grass in my fingers. I brush my hand against the floor. I feel a calm come over me. I tune out the pain inside of me. I feel my breaths slow down. I become unusually calm. I feel my eyelids grow heavy. My hand begins to weaken as I write these final words. I see a light above me. My hand becomes almost too heavy to bear. I will write these final words with care.

Trina, I love you.