The Days Are Tired (Book #1 of the Dark Skies series) - A Zombie story

Chapter 43: Inflame

Will continued to punch Paul until Johnson and a guy with a thick beard pulled him off. Paul took that opportunity to get to his feet and threw his own punch at Will's head. Which made Johnson leave Will to the man with the beard and pull Paul back.

"Get over here! Come on!" Will struggled against the bearded man's hold. He was determined to finish what he had started.

"He's - he's crazy! Get him away from me!" Paul's voice was clogged and slow, the blood dripping from his broken nose, causing congestion. Will had done a number on him.

"You're a coward. A worthless piece of space and air! A monster."

At Will's provocation, Paul, who had been docile for the most part, pulled out of Johnson's hold, catching him by surprise. Johnson reached out to catch him again but reared back when Paul hawked a perfectly aimed glob of spit into the soldier's eye.

It was like a switch flipped. Paul's lip curled back and his eyes seemed to darken. Something carnal, almost feral, stained those eyes.

Sensing the turning tables, the man with the beard let Will go and focused his strength on restraining Paul. He wrapped his meaty arms around Paul, attempting to pull him back, but the crazed man buckled like a wild calf. Somehow, the bearded guy's hand ended up near Paul's mouth. Paul lashed out, biting down, drawing blood, and causing the man to pull back with a yelp. This all happened in a matter of seconds.

Will's eyebrows were raised in surprise... as were mine. The animalistic way he moved sent alarm bells ringing, but as quickly as he'd gained the upper hand, his rampage was stopped by a perfectly placed chop to the neck. Johnson had intervened.

Paul dropped to his knees, stunned and grunting from the pain.

A short, rounded man rolled on the ground, huddling over Paul's writhing figure. Frank. The dynamic duo was in front of me in all their glory. It was like I was having an out-of-body experience.

"Now you both just calm down!" Johnson pointed at the pair with one hand while using the other to rub at his eye. "We do not tolerate this kind of behavior here! Both of you are to go to your tents where you will remain until further instructions. Billy, Flint, please escort Mr.Biter here to his tent." He nodded his head toward Paul. Two large muscled dudes picked him up and started taking him away, while Frank scrambled after them. "I'll be taking this wild child to his." He pulled Will by his arm.

I ran up to them, confusion and concern for Will warring through my brain. Before leaving, I assessed the bearded man Paul had bitten. He was shaking the wounded hand with a face so tensed with pain his large brown beard couldn't hide it. He walked away, more so wobbled, as a few people helped him along.

Upon reaching Johnson, the first thing I noticed was that his eye was turning red. Maybe it had gotten irritated by him rubbing it? It was like he suddenly had a severe case of allergies.

"What was that?" Johnson barked, the command in his tone made me cower. "The first day in and you're already making trouble. You can't go around attacking innocent people." He rubbed at his eye like it was the itchiest thing on earth.

Will scoffed. "That man you pulled me off of betrayed us. He shot one of us, killed our dog, and took our supplies, along with that guy in the wrinkled business suit. And the craziest part about it is that last time we saw him, he was throwing up blood after being bitten by one of the infected."

Johnson stopped in his tracks. "Are you serious?"

Will stopped walking, standing toe-to-toe with Johnson. "You might think I'm lying, but I'm telling you he was bitten. That's why he took our stuff and left us... because he thought we were going to ditch him when we found out."