A nearby tree had amazingly long branches so Charlie took out her knife and started sawing away at the tree when suddenly, a rustle of a bush behind her caught her attention.
You're hallucinating, she told herself. Her forehead became sweaty and she couldn't concentrate on the branch she was sawing.
She carved her long bendy stick, each strike against the dying wood was with a slow, steady, hand. The rustling stopped, replaced with an agonising moan getting closer to her. Charlie's heart was racing, her breathing system out of control. She turned around and there, standing a few metres away was an infected human. Well, she dared call it a human. It was way off that stage. She was positive it was a male creature, but she couldn't tell from the singed hair and falling jaw. Dried blood circled its mouth and rotten flesh were crammed between its teeth.
He stumbled closer to Charlie but she knew better than to scream. She wanted to keep observing this unmentionable creature but she knew to keep her distance. She slowly crept backwards until she tripped over a huge log, letting out a yelp as hundreds of splinters pierced her palms.
The Infected screeched and got closer to her. Her life was going to end. That was it. She had been so idiotic. Then suddenly, Dexter sprinted from through the trees and threw the infected to the ground, however he was forced back as the Infected clambered on top of him. Dexter struggled and groaned, so Charlie opened up her penknife and punctured the Infected's skull again and again until its body grew lifeless and limp and blood was oozing out of its temple.
Dexter stumbled to his feet and stared at Charlie. "Thanks," he said. "But you know you shouldn't be here. I mean if your dad finds out-"
"He won't find out."
"You don't know that. You're stupid to come here with only a penknife." He said.
"But I saved your life!" She started.
"Because I came to save yours!" Charlie started to cry.
"Please don't tell my dad. He'll hurt me again-" Charlie wasn't meant to tell anyone about how abusive Crawford was.
"What? Why would he hurt you?"
"He always does," she showed him her wrist from earlier when he grabbed her and it was red all around like a Chinese burn.
"And this," she slipped her shoulder out of her t-shirt to see it purple and blue and swollen like crazy. "You can't tell him, Dexter. You can't tell him I told you. He doesn't beat Coby," she whimpered.
Dexter's eyes were wide open. He stood looking at her in shock, when all of a sudden- "CHARLIE?!"
"Oh, no," she cried and hid behind a tree.
Crawford walked into the area where Dexter was standing and Charlie was hiding.
Dexter coughed, "Er, nope. Just me here," he looked around for reassurance. In the distance, small amounts of whimpering were heard. Dexter was nervous. "Aha! Lying to me, were you, Dexter?" Crawford grabbed Charlie from behind the tree and started dragging her away further into the forest.
"Dexter! Help! Please! I don't want to be hurt again!" She screamed, so hard her lungs hurt. Dexter was worried. Then it went silent.
Dexter sat down and waited. He didn't know what he was waiting for. How could he have let him take her away? Then all of a sudden, a scream, so piercing shot through to Dexter. He ran, sprinted even towards the direction. There, lying on the ground, blood dripping from her nose and her eye red and swollen, Charlie panted, out of breath. Crying, ever so quietly.
Dexter dropped his weapon and came to comfort her. He let this happen. He cuddled her until she fell unconscious.
YOU ARE READING
Our World Is Slowly Dying
ParanormalIn a world of infected, what hope is expected? A group of survivors grow used to the sight of place faced, infected skinned alive dead people. In a world no answers, they must make their own.