Footprints in the Blood

THREE

DAY 11

We've done this dance before, but it's a gamble every time we do.

Matt leans against the wall, trying to still himself against what's coming. They have smelled Matt out by now and know where he is. For us to make it to the dorm, we'll have to run faster than ever before, because we both know fighting isn't going to work. Not for me. I've only barely killed my first and I'm not skilled enough to take on any more.

I push away the sadness that is threatening to choke me as I think of plunging the knife into my best friend. I know I did what must be done, but I doubt I will ever be the same again.

Matt reaches over, squeezing my hand over my knife. I glance up at him, noting the determination etched into his features and I wish for bravery. I don't want to be the cause of his demise. Nodding my head, we both turn to the dark abyss between us and the dorm. It's time to run now.

We take off as one, sprinting around the corner and into the darkness. There's a flash of movement to my right and then I hear them behind us. They run much faster than any comic book or TV show ever predicted. They're stronger, more vicious, than the darkest nightmares. The only upper hand we may have on them is that they're also much more clumsy, and half blinded by the virus. It's as if all that mutant power inside of them makes them forget how to level it out. As we race through the night, I hear them stumbling over each other, trying to reach us. But I don't look back.

Matt is barely two paces in front of me, but the distance between us feels like an ocean. My lungs burn, chest constricting, as I push myself to keep up. I've never been much of runner, and now my body wishes for the endurance I would've had if I only tried a little harder at staying fit.

These stupid thoughts are racing through my mind when I stumble.

My knees, then chin, connect with the hard ground and I cry out in pain. I raise my head just enough to see Matt look back at the sound. But there's nothing he can do because they're already here. I shake my head, desperate for him to keep going as they close in around me.

Somehow I manage to roll out of the way, as they reach out for me. They're half blind and going off of smell, but since they can't smell me, I stay just out of their grasp as I stumble back unto my feet. I dropped my knife when I fell and now it lays between three of them. I recognize their faces from students I've passed on campus before the world came crashing down. The other four have paused for a moment, but kept on going after Matt and I wish with all of my heart that he didn't hesitate any longer than a second.

They're sniffing the air now, trying to see past the film on their eyeballs, searching for the lack of the virus in me to guide them. I take their hesitation to my advantage and throw myself toward the knife. The movement causes them to follow the noise, but my fingers are already wrapping around the handle when one of them grabs my leg and pulls me toward him. I kick out, connecting with rotting flesh and the smell hits me as the skin comes off the bones. These are much further along than Molly was, walking corpses fueled by rage and bacteria.

Twisting around, I scramble to my knees and stab at the closest infected. I miss the heart and the blade sinks in deeper than I was aiming for. Tears of frustration and fear blind me, but I pull at the blade as one of the others grabs for my hair. There's a wild frenzy to my movements now as I swing my whole body to get out of their reach. My knife cuts at their flesh, but only drops of skin and blood litter the ground around me. I'm missing all the right points, missing the heart and the eye, and I feel the exhaustion weighing on my shoulders.

I'm done for. Even my superpower can't save me now. They're going to sink their blood stained teeth into my skin and I will become one of the mindless, raging monsters. Just like most of the world's population.

But just when I think I can't fight anymore, the pressure of their grabbing hands falls away and I'm left laying on the ground, as a blinding light fills the space around me. I look up just in time to see a man's shadow step up to me, a machete in his hand dripping with blood.

"Oh great, one of you," I mumble, just as he kneels beside me. I've been rescued by one of the annoying radicals running around campus and killing things. They'll probably take me into their cult now.

"Thank you for saving my life is what I would've gone with," he says, with a voice as smooth as butter. I can't see him because of the blinding light behind him, but he doesn't woop and holler like the self named "bounty hunters" would, and that gives me a pause.

"Sorry, I thought—"

"I was one of the crazies?" he chuckles and I feel that sounds in my very bones. "That happens. But no, sweetheart. Just a good ole superhero." He reaches for my hands, pulling me up to my feet as he stands and that's when the blinding light goes out and I see his face. Rough but handsome, he sure looks like a modern day Captain America in his tactical gear and six-two built frame.

"Superhero with an ego apparently," I say, surprised at my own bravery. But it's either that, or drooling, and I don't find that latter one appealing enough. He shrugs at my words, grinning, as he gives me a once over.

"Nothing is torn or broken," I snap, when he continues his perusal. His eyes fly up to meet mine and there's amusement there, and a bit of admiration.

"Then let's get you out of the cold," he replies and that's when I notice that he's not alone.