First Steps | A Zombie Apocalypse Story (Completed)

Day 20.2

Clarissa

I follow Zachariah out of the building, still not having processed what happened. My feet feel heavy. I can't believe Charlie is dead. Taken from us just like that.

I avoid eyes with Paxton's dead-looking ones, the only expression evident on his face grim. No matter what we tried, we were unable to get Bobby to leave his spot in the building. We just left him there, knowing that the building had been completely cleared already. Not cleared soon enough.

Paxton walks over quickly, his eyes watering when he sees Charlie up close. There are so many bites on her small, lifeless body. Skin shredded, bite marks deep. Bloody red patches soaked through the clothing covering her arm, stomach, side, leg, as well as her neck. Her face is the only thing recognizable at this point.

He swallows before putting his arms out to carry her away. I look at the graveyard once more, which is far more sinister than it was just an hour ago. We all follow him as he walks over to the graveyard. Hannah must've seen us in the distance because she exits the truck, running over to us with her face etched with concern. This is the most emotion I've seen her have since this began. She joins us in our walk, confusion still evident on her face.

"Charlie went inside. She became surrounded. By the time we started killing them, it was too late," I say with a dejected and flat voice, putting my hands on my hips and looking to the ground. Her expression twitched for a second, almost revealing her emotions before her face fell straight again.

We made it to a corner of the graveyard that had some space in it. Paxton lays her body down gently, getting on his knees and pulling his knife out of its sheath. He points the knife at the side of her bloodied head, looking up at the sky and sighing, a stray tear falling down his cheek. He puts his other hand on the opposite side of her head before he drives the knife through her skull with a squelch, squeezing his eyes tight when the knife enters her skull. I release a shaky breath, covering my mouth.

"Hey, I, um. I think I'm going to try to get Bobby out here," I say through strained words, scratching right above my left eyebrow. I walk away, my feet heavy and dread heightening. Jerry follows, but I face him, nodding no. He is the last person Bobby wants to see right now. When I reenter the building, I quickly spot Bobby. He lay flat on the bloody tile floor, corpses surrounding him. Dead corpses, that is. The fact that you have to say that now is crazy.

"Bobby," I say softly, standing nearby, but not too close. His eyes stay wide open.

"Bobby?" I say again, but more in a question form this time. He blinks.

"I killed her," he replies, his voice cracking. He sighs, closing his eyes once more. I crouch down beside him, clasping my hands together that I only now realize are shaking. 

"I can't imagine how you're feeling. But you can't blame yourself." I flatten my position, sitting crisscrossed on the floor. I fumble with Taylor's watch. 

"No. I killed her. If I listened to Jerry instead of thinking I'm somebody I'm not, she would still be here. I'm the one who was retarded enough to go inside," he says, his voice raw and his cheeks ruddy. He's now sitting up, with his knees up, but not quite to his chest, and his forearms resting on them. 

"Bobby, you can't put the blame on yourself. The guilt. It'll eat you alive."

"Like my sister was?" I sucked in my upper lip, my stomach dropping.