When I Die

Ch.22

Perry

"Keith, I can't fucking do it!" I yelled, tossing my knife to the ground. My hands were beginning to blister from the white-knuckle grip I've been holding onto the knife with.

"You can and You will," Keith picked up my discarded knife and placed it back in my throbbing hand.

For weeks, he's been trying to train me. I struggled to pick up the basics when I had two arms and two hands, I looked like a charity case trying to learn with just one.

"You have down the jab, we just need to work on the dislodging." Keith nodded at the biters lifeless body that's tied to a tree. Black blood was oozing from each and every single wound I gave it.

"I don't wanna do this anymore," I shook my head and stepped back from the biter.

"Do you want to die?" Keith crossed his arms and glared at me.

Did I want to die?

"Yes." I threw the knife into the dead grass and headed towards our makeshift camp.

A car with covered windows.

"Perry get the fuck back here," Keith called. I could hear the sound of his boots crushing the grass behind me.

I ignored him. I was gonna die anyway, why should I try to prevent the inevitable?

I felt a warm hand on my shoulder and I stopped.

"Get your hand off of me," I spat through clenched teeth. I stepped away from him. Keith stood, just inches away from me, my discarded knife in his hand. Seeing the knife just pissed me off more.

"Per, I get that you're frustrated. I get that this fuckin-"

"Do you get it? Because from where Im standing, you have two arms. You have the ability to defend yourself." I scoffed, how fucking dare he?

"Fine, Maybe I don't get it. But Im trying to help you, Why can't you let me?" Keith stepped closer to me and I, once again, stepped back. 

"It's useless." I shook my head. It truly was. "You should have killed me." I whispered. Keith's eyes widened and then narrowed. 

"Im done," He said and took another step towards me, I back up but he kept walking at me.

"Stop it." I said, backing away from him.

"No, Im done, Perry. We're not playing this game anymore." Keith closed the distance, picked me up, and threw me over his shoulder. I began to yell and swat at him. He held strong.

"Put me down!" I yelled and kneed him in the gut. He coughed but continued carrying me, past our car and into the house next to it. 

Keith placed me on the ground and backed me into the wall, using my only arm to pin me.

"Get off of me," I demanded through gritted teeth.

"No. I know you're angry. Pissed, even. But you need to get the fuck over it. It's been 2 months, You need to learn how to live without it." The look he gave me was one I had never seen before. Anger? Frustration? I couldn't tell.

"You don't just get over it, Keith! I lost my god damn arm." I spat, tears beginning to form.

"You know what, Perry? If this was the old world, Id sympathize. But In case you haven't caught on," Keith lowered his head until he was directly in front of me, "We're living in an apocalypse. You need to get a grip and move on. You need to learn how to survive and you need to learn now."

I closed my eyes in attempt to stop the waterworks, it was a fail. I couldn't help but break down from the frustration and sadness. 

Im being a total bitch to the one person in the world who's been trying to help me.

"I-Im so sorry." I stuttered and Keith pulled me into a warm embrace, which just caused me to cry even more. God he was so fucking sweet.

The sound of glass breaking caused us to jump apart. Keith quickly pulled out my knife and placed it into my hand. Without hesitation, he removed his gun from the holster and clicked off the safety. 

The broken glass wasn't from this house, someone was outside.

"Perry, I need you to go upstairs and hide, okay? Try to hide in a tight space, it'll give you the advantage with the knife." Keith spoke and I shook my head. I was staying right here. 

"Please?" He asked, his voice softening. I sighed, he's probably thinking that Im more of a hazard right now. 

I retreated upstairs and hid inside the linen closet at the end of the hall. I could see the hallway perfectly, but they couldn't see inside.

I heard the front door swing open and smack into the wall downstairs. It took everything in me not to go down there. No gunshots were fired, and no screams could be heard. These are good signs.

Keith most likely hid, we could make it out of this. Whoever it is will probably see how tapped this house is and move on. We almost did until Keith decided that this would be a great training opportunity. 

After waiting for almost an hour and hearing nothing, I decided to go look for keith. I tightened my grip around my knife and used my elbow to push the door open. The door squeaked on its hinges, causing me to wince.

If anyone was in the house, they could've heard it. I paused just for a moment to listen for any movement, the house was silent.

Thank fuck.

I gingerly began to walk down the hall, trying my best to avoid a creaky floorboard. It was hard with steel toe boots to avoid being noisy. But, hey, if a biter tries to get my toes - Im set.  I wish I had something like that for my arm.

I made it to the steps, successfully making little to no noise. One could say that Im a professional. 

"Drop the knife and put your hands up," A familiar voice demanded from behind me. 

My heart dropped. 

I dropped the knife and raised my arm, "I only have one hand, just so you know." 

"Shut the fuck up. Turn around slowly."

I rotated on my heels, keeping my arm in the air. My eyes widened as I saw Sam's once beautiful face, now covered in scars and scabs. 

"Perry?" Her features softened. 

"Hey Sam."