They Call Me Daring

Chapter 6

"Liam!"
    My very own personal alarm clock. Never fails.
    "LIAM!"
    "I'm up!" I roared, angrily throwing myself out of bed. I pulled on clothes, jeans and a light blue T, and threw open the door. "What do you wan-"
    I stopped short and stared at the red haired girl.
"Yeah, about that," she said dryly. "Your brother wants you. Or, rather, your father wants you to go see your brother."
    "Oh..." It probably had something to do with the gun. "Okay, then, thanks.... Hey, weren't you supposed to only come yesterday?" I asked on another thought.
    "Yeah, but your house is so disgusting I couldn't do it all in one day." She retorted, then turned and stomped back down the hall. I will never understand girls.
    I tightened and adjusted my watch- the skin around the bite had become slightly greenish as it was slowly infected. I couldn't let anybody know, or even suspect; I couldn't afford to be exiled at this stage in the game. Not yet.
    I found Clark in his room, lying splayed out on his bed with enormous headphones over his ears. I could hear the music from the doorway, which, in my opinion, defeats the whole purpose of having headphones.
    "Clark," I began. He didn't even open his eyes, so I went over and yanked the headphones off.
    "Hey-" he protested, then his eyes locked on my face. "Oh, sup Liam..."
    "Yeah, you wanted to see me?" I asked, unsure.
    "Um, yeah, yeah," He unplugged the massive headphones from his iPod, and the screeching rock music fell silent. "Yeah, I did."
    "Uh, why?" I raised an eyebrow. Possible situations flew through my mind. Wouldn't I be the last person on earth Clark would want to see? He thought I had stolen his prized machine gun... was he going to lock me in a closet or something?
    "I, uh, well, I-" He stopped, and reached under his bed, groping in the darkness. After several seconds of fumbling, he produced... the missing rifle. "Yeah, I kinda got my gun back."
    I blinked in surprise. "Um, how?"
    "Some guy who rode the chopper with us dropped it off this morning," He shrugged, caressing the gun like it was a beloved dog. "Yeah, he said he found it lying on the ground in the commotion after you passed out... so, um, I guess I owe you an apology..."
    "This is difficult for you, isn't it?" I snickered, waiting to hear it. Heck, I'd waited my entire life for this moment- I wasn't letting him off easy.
    "Yeah, so, I-" He stopped suddenly, eyeing me closer. "Man, you feeling okay?"
    "Yeah...?" I raised a eyebrow. Oh, god, what was wrong with me now? I never did look in the mirror this morning. Had I grown fangs overnight?
    "You're pale. I mean, like, really pale." Clark got up and turned his lights on.
    "Ow!" I winced, as bright light filled the normally dark room. I threw up my hands to cover my face and backed away into the doorway. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear the spots from my eyes, and I realized Clark was staring at me like I was being weird.
    "Uh, you sure you're not sick or something?" He gave me 'the look'. The one where he would raise his eyebrow and angle his head downwards, the look that doctors give you when they know you're not telling the truth. One thing I can say for Clark, he knows when you're not saying it all.
    "Yeah, no, I'm fine," I said, blinking fast to keep my eyes from watering in the bright light. My skin was stinging, and I needed to get out of there.
    "Liam, I think you should go see the Doc..." He said concernedly. How had he gone from older brother that wants to kill me, to politely concerned, loving older sibling again?
    "No, I think I'll just-"
    "Dude, really, you're too pale. You're, like white."
    "Yeah, maybe I'll go see the Doc..." I sighed defeatedly, just so I could retreat to the darkness of my own room. "Yeah, see you later...."
    I backed away quickly, and the next second I was in my room, massaging my aching temples. I had closed the shades and my eyes. The darkness was cool and gentle on my stinging skin.
    Suddenly my eyes shot open. Oh, god, no!
    Hating the light isn't human. Savoring the darkness, that's not right either. I leapt up and glared at myself in the mirror. So much for my tan. My skin was solid, pure white. This was freaky.
    I stared at my ghostly double in the mirror. How could this have happened? I opened my mouth, and felt my incisors, but luckily those hadn't lengthened yet. Keyword: Yet.
    Could I fight back against the infection? I pulled away the watch from my wrist and grimaced at the bite. The two holes in my flesh had scarred over, but the pale skin around it was veined with sickly green. I pulled the watch back over, and wondered if I could somehow drive away the virus with bright lights... no, I couldn't stand to do that.
    "Hey, Clark-" Dad opened the door and blinked in the darkness. "Why are the lights off?" He reached for the switch.
    "No!" I yelped. I leapt forward and grabbed his hand before he could flip the lights on. He stared at me, an eyebrow raised, for a moment, then shook his head.
    "Whatever. But I need you to do a favor for me." This immediately sent up the red flags.
    "What?" I asked cautiously.
    "I need you to take this," He pulled letter out of his pocket, sealed in an envelope and everything. "And give it to the Doc, over at the lab."
    "Why?"
    "Because he needs it."
    "Why does he need it?"
    "Because it's important."
    "What's it-"
    "Quit asking so many questions, and get your butt to the lab!" He threatened.
    "Why me?"
    "NOW!" He pulled me through the doorway, and shoved the letter into my hand. I staggered when I stepped into the hallway, the bright lights making my eyes smart. This hurt even more than before! Was it getting worse?
    I took off running crookedly down the hall. I raced down the stairs, tripping over my own feet once or twice, and stumbled through the door.
    I shot out onto the sidewalk like a blur- and the light hit me like an explosion. I was wrenched off my feet, flying back into the ground. I curled up in a ball on the sidewalk, pressing my hands to my eyes, my entire body stinging like bees were killing every inch of skin they could find. The whole infected thing really sucked.
    "Um, Liam?" I jumped and rolled onto my back. I squinted into the full brightness of the daylight, and made out the figure of Cony.
    "Cony. Wassup." I greeted him casually, like rolling around on the sidewalk in a ball was my favorite pastime.
    "Yeah, um... Wh-what're you doing?" He asked exasperatedly.
    "Nothing. What're you doing?" I retorted, trying to get to my feet without wincing. Why did it have to be so dang bright?
    "Looking for your brother. We're gonna go shoot some zombies!" He said excitedly. "We'd ask you to come along, but...."
    "No, man, and let me take all the good hives?" I sighed like I really regretted it. Yeah, fat chance of that. "Seriously, go dude, and save our city with Clark."
    He puffed out his chest proudly, and strutted into the Trackerson mansion, looking like a complete baboon. I shivered at the thought of him and Clark tramping down the streets, gunning down random walking corpses. Jeez, it didn't seem as deserved anymore now my point of view was from the bad side.
    That stopped me in my tracks. The bad side.
    I used to play games with other kids when I was little. Everyone always wanted to be the good guy, the savior. The guy that saved the city from destruction (Where was this guy when the zombie apocalypse struck?). It was always the loner, the outcast, the least popular kid that landed the role of the villain (Enter moi).
    Nobody wanted to be the bad guy in their own story. But what if you did end up as that? The villain, the bad guy, the... monster.
    And suddenly, without any warning at all, that was me. I was the villain. I was the dangerous one, unstable, a bomb just waiting to blow. Even as I stood, my blood was slowly being overtaken by the deadly virus, and before I could even legally drive I would become just another half-rotted corpse moaning in a ditch.
    I was becoming a monster.