No one left

Chapter 3

(Dipper pov)

I sit on the couch, everything around me feeling numb. I can't stop staring at the bite on my arm, it still bleeding a little bit. I can't believe that this happened. What the fuck was I thinking? I didn't even......I am so so dead.

I flinch back slightly as Bill reaches out for my arm. "Dipper, hold still. I need to at least bandage it."

"What's the point? We already know what's going to happen. You made that clear with rule number 3....."

He sighs before sitting on the couch next to me. I keep looking down at it, feeling the tears falling down my face.

"What the fuck do we do, Bill?"

"Well.....the way I see it we have two choices." He takes out his pistol setting it on the coffee table in front of us. "We go ahead with rule 3. To be honest I'm not a fan of that option."

"But you made that rule."

"I made the rule thinking about if this happened to me. I never....never really thought it would happen to you. Option two, we wait it out. Just see what happens as you lose your mind and get all poetic and shit. When you do turn, I'll do what I have to."

"You actually want to wait?"

"We could have died a thousand times before today. We could almost die a thousand times tomorrow. Every day is a blessing. I think that we should ride this out. One last night together before we lose everything."

"Is there a third option?"

"Sorry. Now, will you let me help?"

He gently takes my arm and I wince as he uses an alcohol wipe to gently clean the wound and starts bandaging it.

".....I didn't even feel it. It all happened so fast that I hadn't even felt it....."

"How do you feel now?"

"I don't know. I don't feel any different. My arm hurts but getting bit by anything will hurt."

"There's a way up to the roof from the gift shop, right?"

"Yeah, me and.....I used to use it a lot before all of this. Why?"

"Follow me."

He gets up walking out of the living room. I get up following him to the gift shop. The whole place is still a mess. He at least managed to get all of the infected outside.

He climbs up the ladder to the roof and I follow him up. He sits on the roof with his legs dangling over the edge and I go over sit next to him. He leans back on his hands as he looks up at the stars.

"Who did you used to come up here with?"

"When I was 12 a friend showed me and my sister this when we were 12. She would come up here to slack off from working. I would come up here when I needed a break from everything. My sister always knew to find me up here."

"Hm."

He lays back on the roof. I lay back next to him. We lay there letting the comfortable silence fall over us.

............................................

I wake up, putting a hand up to cover my eyes from the blinding sunlight. I sit up and looking behind me I see Bill standing there with his pistol in hand.

"Well?"

"I....I don't feel any different. I still feel like me."

"No fever or anything like that? No voices?"

"No. Nothing like that." I stand up unwrapping tha bandages around my arm. It still looked the same as last night. "There are no signs of any infection speading. It still looks the same as when anyone else bites another person."

"But everyone turns without 12 hours."

".....unless.....I'm immune somehow...."

"......let's get back downstairs."

I follow him back down to the living room and rewrap the bite as he sets the pistol down.

"What now, Bill?"

"I don't know. You aren't turned and show no signs of turning so I have to accept the fact that you're immune for some reason. But that doesn't mean you can't get torn apart."

".....I want to find the Fireflies."

"What? Why?"

"A few weeks ago I heard a radio transmission of them talking about a base in the west. They were talking about doctors and scientists. I think some of them are still looking for a cure. I could be the answer that they are looking for."

"We are already in the west part of the country. Do you know anything even specific like a state or anything like that?"

"No, the transmission had a lot of static so I couldn't hear much. But if I could help life get back to normal or at least save lives, isn't it at least worth the chance?"

".....where is that map of yours?"

"Right here." I take out the map unfolding it and laying it on the coffee table.

"My brother, Will, he used to be a Firefly a while back."

"You haven't ever mentioned him."

"We lost contact over a year ago and he left the Fireflies at least a year before that. But we always talked about going to Jackson in Wyoming."

"That is really far from here."

"Yeah. But I know a guy who lives a few towns over. I've traded some supplies with him a few times. He owes me a few favors so he could possibly get us a car to make the trip quicker."

"So we're actually doing this?"

"First I am laying out some ground rules."

"More rules? Seriously?"

"First rule: We keep out histories before all of this shit to ourselves. Don't need this trip turning into some dramatic teen movie. Second rule: Do not tell anyone about your condition. They will either think you are fucking crazy or try to kill you. Third: You have to do exactly what I say when I fucking say it. Is that understood?"

"Yeah."

"Repeat it."

"What you say goes."

"Good. Now grab your backpack and lets go."

I go up to my room grabbing my backpack. I pull my flannel on to hide the bandage and bite on my arm and pull on my favorite hat. I grab some personal items including my journal and my poloroid camera and put them in my bag. I pull on my sneakers and strap my knife to my thigh before grabbing my ax.

I head back downstairs where Bill is waiting for me.

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah."

He opens the door walking out on the road and I glance back at the Shack one last time before following him out.