Stability (by D&N)

Ch.12-Angelina

 With our backpacks filled to the zipper with cans and water bottles, Joe and I gather napkins and plastic eating utensils, storing them in the pockets of our packs. I shuffle over to Shamar and Robert, who are in the kitchen searching for any useful items. I poke Shamar's side, causing him to jump slightly.

"Dude, don't do that." he snaps. I cringe slightly. I shouldn't have done that.

"Sorry." I mumble. "I just thought I should let you know that me and Joe are gonna get our backpacks from the band room."

"Whatever dude, it's fine." he waves his hand in the air. "Just be careful out there. Robert and I found out that they have really strong hearing, but they're practically blind. So as long as you guys are quite, you should be able to sneak right past them."

"Okay, we'll meet you guys back on the rooftop." I call back as I made my way to the kitchen exit.

"Aight, see you then." Shamar waved back.

Joe and I push open one of the many doors leading out of the café. I wave my hand, motioning him to follow me. The door shuts with minimal noise, thank God. I peer into the darkness, trying to see if any corpies were near us. I don't notice any around the band door, so I dash forward, traveling on the pads of my feet to make as little noise as possible. Once I reach the door safely, I turn to tell Joe how easy that was. Only, he wasn't behind me anymore. Confusion clots my brain for a second, until my eyes focus on a dark figure that I recognize as Joe, still several feet behind me. What is he doing? I raise my hand to my mouth, about to call him over, but then I notice that he isn't alone. My breath hitches.

Joe stands rigid, frozen solid in fear. His eyes that were surly wide in fright seem to be fixated on the moaning monster in front of him. I try to call his name, but all that comes out of my throat are pathetic chokes and sputters. My mind raced, trying to make sense of what was happening and what to do about it. My eyes widen as I see the zombie tense up, getting ready for a lunge.

"Joe!" I choke out. Finally, I snap out of my confused state, and burst into a sprint towards my best bro. The sound of teeth ripping out flesh seems so very loud, as if the tearing of muscle was right next to my ear. I shove the rotting fleshbag off of Joe with all my might. It falls to the floor with a mighty thud. I throw one of Joe's limp arms around my neck and carry him bridal style. I swing open the band room door and turn on the lights on reflex. Light suddenly floods the rooms, blinding me for a few moments as my eyes adjust. I gingerly set Joe down on the carpeted floor.

My mind doesn't make sense of the situation in front of my eyes. My loving friend, my little brother, with pale skin and blood gushing out of his neck doesn't make any sense. I lay my head on his chest and weep. A hand on my head causes me to look up in confusion, hoping for a split second that Joe is okay. I am met with the face of a black-eyed, bloodied-teeth Joe.

I screech in horror. Something is grabbing me. I flail wildly, trying to free the firm grasp on my wrist.

"No! Get away." I sob. Suddenly a voice breaks through to my ears, a voice I recognize.

"Angelina, it's me!" the familiar voice pleads. My eyes open. I'm met with Michael F's face, illuminated by the just rising sun. His brows are furrowed in concern.

"J-joe." I stutter as I look behind Michael F to find where my bro is. His expression suddenly morphs into sorrow. All too quickly, the memories of what had happened rush to my head. The gruesome images of my dead brother are seared into my mind. I feel a sob bubbling in my throat but force it down.

"Oh." I simply state, my eyes hollowing. My shoulders sag suddenly as I feel the weight of guilt, anger, and grief pressing on me, as if I'm Atlas holding up the world. I can tell Michael F doesn't know what to do, so he wraps his arms around me. I don't hug back. I feel too bitter. But sometimes, you just let others hold you, to make them feel like they're helping in some way. Even when you the last thing you want to do is be touched, you let them because other people's needs are over yours.