Innova

CHAPTER TWO

I don't remember falling asleep but in my dreams I remember floating. Slowly, painfully, I wake up. My eyes open unwillingly. "You awake?" an unfamiliar voice says nearby. I turn my head quickly, and then tense up. This person isn't black... or white... he's... brown?

It takes awhile for my mind to comprehend anything important because the situation in front of me is just so bizarre and impossible. There is no one inside the Dome whose skin is brown. It's such a pretty brown too. It isn't washed out, it's... chocolatey. In fact, everything about him is chocolatey. His skin, his eyes, his hair. His hair is curly too. It looks so fluffy... I force myself to focus.

Come on, brain, WORK. Why is he here? Slowly the situation dawns on me, and the events- event?- of last night start trickling back. WHY IS THERE A STRANGE DUDE IN MY BLOCK? I blurt out, "Who are you, and why are you in my Block?"

A split second later I realize, that if his skin is brown, he hasn't had it altered. If it isn't altered, then he isn't from the the Dome. And the only people who aren't from the Dome are the flesh-eating zombies that inhabit the Bracken.

OkAY. Now I'm starting to panic.

I get up off the couch slowly and keep my eyes on him, not daring to turn my back on him. "What're you doing?" he asks suspiciously; studying me apprehensively. Can zombies talk? I pause for a moment to think. My left side is starting to throb again. I resist the urge to check it because I have to keep my eyes on the Outsider. I decide to start a conversation. If he really can talk and I'm not hallucinating, then maybe I can get some answers. If I am hallucinating, and he's actually a zombie... WELP.

"What do mean by that?" I ask him. His face takes on a distressed, frustrated look and he asks, "What're you trying to do?"

I resist the urge to shout back, BOY WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I KNOW? I reply, "Oh, nothing in particular," as I inch towards the hallway, "What about you?"

His face takes on a look of confusion. I take this chance to run to my room. As soon as I do this, I can tell it was a bad idea. I shouldn't have turned my back on him. Five seconds later, I SWEAR TO FOOD, he BELLYFLOPS right on top of my back.

The air whooshes out of my lungs and a half second later his hand clamps over my mouth and nose. I start to get worried because I'm running out of air. I have a vague awareness of him whispering something in my ear– something about him not hurting me and wanting to talk?– but I'm more concerned about breathing. So when he says, "Got that?" I quickly nod my head yes. Finally he takes his hand off my face just as the edges of my vision start to turn black. I gulp in air so fast I see stars. He gets off my back slowly. I jump up and try to run to my room again.

I barely take two steps before something whizzes by my ear and thunks on to the wall. It was a knife. "Next one hits your head," the Outsider states calmly, "So I suggest you don't try anything stupid."

Some distant part of my brain goes, Pff, something stupid? HA. LIKE WHAT? LISTEN to you? THATS NOT HELPING I scream at my brain. I ignore my inner sarcasm and decide to try a different approach. Since running away didn't do anything, and he's proven he can easily kill me, I turn around to attempt reasoning with him. He seems intelligent, and despite his actions I'm not injured. He had a knife and didn't use it. Besides, I'm 72% sure that he isn't a zombie. 72%. I wait for him to make a move first though.

We stand there facing each other, waiting. The Outsider speaks up. "I get why you'd be suspicious of me, but I honestly don't mean you any harm." I scoff. "Yeah, that's believable," I retort.

"I told you I didn't want to hurt you!" He replies. "When? Before or after you tried to strangle me? Or perhaps you said it around the time you threw your knife at me?" My eyes suddenly feel heavy and my head starts throbbing. My side is throbbing as well. I make a mental note to look at my side as soon as possible.

"I didn't strangle you, and if I wanted my knife to hit you it would've. Besides, if I wanted to hurt you, why would I save your life?"

"Woah woah woah, back up, what do you mean you saved me?"

"An Infected bit you. You would've died if I hadn't treated your wound."

"What?" I ask bewildered. Nothing he says makes sense. "What's an Infected? Does the word bit have a different meaning to you?"

"If you don't believe me, check your waist," he pause before continuing, "You don't know what an Infected is?"

I couldn't care less what an Infected is. I practically stopped paying attention to the Outsider as soon as he said check your waist. I turn to the side and lift my shirt. There is a huge, white, square of gauze on my left hip. I gently peel it off, and peek underneath. I immediately jerk my head back because the smell is so repulsive. The Outsider was right, something bit me. The bite mark doesn't look too deep, in fact, if it didn't stink like rotten feces, I wouldn't think it was that bad. I glance at it one more time to get a better look at it before I put the gauze back. The only thing strange about it were the little black lines that were coming out of what seemed to be the deeper teeth marks. The thing that worries me the most though is that the bite mark looked suspiciously human, or at least human-like. I really don't have the stomach to try and look at it again so I turn back to the Outsider.

"I still don't get how you saved my life. For all I know you could've made that bite mark." He scoffs, "Sweetheart, I didn't bite you. Maybe if you looked a bit closer you would've seen that that bite wasn't human."

"Well sorry I'm not an exper-" suddenly the world starts spinning. I fall to the ground. The Outsider rushes towards me. I try to lift my hand to wave him off, but my ends up flopping around uselessly. When did I get so lightheaded? He picks me up and carries me to the couch. He pulls back my shirt and lifts up the gauze. Immediately a horrid stench fills my nose. I start to see stars...

NO! my brain shouts at me. You will not blackout this time, figure out what's going on. I obediently lift my head up to peer at my abdomen. Those peculiar black veins that were coming out of the bite have grown and are swollen. They appear to be spreading. It's so beautiful! Like black ink on a white canvas. The Outsider has magically produced a bag and is desperately rummaging through it.

That's when I start laughing.

At first it feels good, and helps relieve tension. But then I realize: I can't stop. Pretty soon I'm out of breath and it's starting to hurt, but I just can't stop laughing. Soon it starts to feel like I'm not even laughing any more. Then I realize that I can't shut my eyes either. My chest starts lifting up in the air like I'm taking a deep breath, except I don't think I'm breathing anymore. There's just laughing.

Then I feel a sharp pain in my left arm.

My chest relaxes and slowly the laughter fades away. I concentrate on breathing. In. Out. My head rolls limply to the side and I catch a glimpse of the Outsider. He's on his knees with his head resting on the edge of the couch. He lifts his head and our eyes meet. Guess I should thank him. I open my moth to say thank you.

I pass out instead.