A Walk Among The Dead

Chapter 22

Brady's POV

I can't believe I carried Rowan for almost two miles without stopping.

She still hadn't waken up. I was worried she might have a coma or something. I'm no doctor, but I think she should've come to by now.

Although, that piece of shrapnel hit her pretty damn hard, giving her a big cut across her forehead. I know I need to stop and try to tend to her wound, but I'm not sure we have a big enough lead on the dead.

After Rowan was knocked out, I tried to fix her wound right away. But, a huge c4 explosion is enough to draw in every rotting corpse within fifty miles of the place. We were ambushed by the dead within only fifteen minutes after the explosion happened. I could barely pick her up and sling her across my shoulders thanks to my shock and trembling body.

Running with another persons weight on your shoulders isn't easy either. Rowan is by no means overweight, but damn did I struggle to keep her on my shoulder without collapsing and dropping her.

I turned around and saw nothing in sight. No cars, no corpses, no people. I couldn't help but worry about the others, especially Dad. I couldn't believe I wasn't smart enough to try and keep everyone together. But as soon as that fucking hippy said something about a bomb, Hell broke loose, and it was every man for himself.

I set Rowan down on the pavement, careful as to not injure her anymore. I took my jacket and wadded it up so I could place it under her head. It was freezing, but she needed my jacket more than I did.

"Shit," I mumbled to myself, rubbing my sore shoulder where I had carried Rowan. I looked down at her, worriedly.

"Please wake up soon." I whispered to her, watching my hot breath create a misty cloud in the air. She didn't move an inch, her face pale and dry. Every few seconds she too exhaled out of her nose and created a frosty cloud, letting me know she was still alive.

I sat down on the pavement beside her and looked up at the sky. By the suns position, I could tell it was about noon or so. When I was younger, Dad had taught Rowan and I how to tell time with the sun. Rowan refused to cooperate, but I found it interesting, and always gave my full attention to Dad when he would explain the technique to us. Shit, I hope Dad's alright...

I hope Rowan's alright...

If Rowan died on my watch, I'd never forgive myself. If only I would have dove in front of her just a second sooner, and maybe that shrapnel wouldn't have hit her. I turned and looked at the cut on her forehead. It was starting to bleed heavily.

"Damnit." I cursed, frantically trying to think of what to do. I had nothing. No supplies, no weapons, I was completely vulnerable and helpless. I looked at my jacket under Rowan's head and instantly rushed into action.

"Come on," I grunted, trying to rip some of the fabric from the jacket. My cold fingers trembled, making it harder to grab ahold of the fabric properly. Finally, with the aid of my teeth, I managed to rip a chunk of fabric off of the sleeve of my jacket.

I wadded the piece of fabric into a ball and put it on her wound, applying pressure to try and stop the bleeding. Within minutes, the fabric was soaked with blood. I thought back to my high school first aid knowledge and knew better than to remove the fabric from the wound, or it would remove the clots and cause it to bleed more. I looked down at my feet and almost laughed when I saw that I was wearing worn cotton socks.

She's gonna hate me for this when she wakes up.

Without hesitation, I grabbed my tennis shoe and jerked it off of my foot. Then I grabbed my sock and practically tore it from my foot, waving it in the air to try and dry some of the dampness.

Yeah, she's really gonna hate me.

I placed the smelly, holy sock on Rowan's forehead and pushed down on it. The second I applied pressure, blood started soaking through it like a sponge with water.

I reached my shaky hand over and laid it on Rowan's cheek. I almost had to retract my hand, she was burning up. That's when the panic set in.

"Jesus, Rowan don't do this to me." I whispered. I started thinking about all of the antibiotics and ibuprofen we had in our backpacks, which were taken by the crazy soldiers that attacked us. Anger and frustration started to boil up inside me. I couldn't do it alone, I needed Rowan to wake up. I needed her support, her guidance. She'd always been the wiser twin, seeming to always make the right decisions and do the right things. Rowan was the strong one here, while I felt like I was going to break down at any moment.

"Please Rowan, wake up!" I said, going from a whisper to a shout. I knew I needed to be quiet, but I also needed Rowan.

"Rowan! Wake the fuck up! I can't do this by myself. I mean, look at me! I'm already cracking under the pressure of responsibility and it's only been an hour!" I was practically screaming now. From behind me, a gurgling growl floated through the air. I quickly turned around to see a single corpse limping its way towards me. My body didn't hesitate to voluntarily scramble to its feet. I patted my waistline, remembering that I didn't have a weapon.

"Rowan!" I screamed down at her. Nothing.

"Oh shit, oh shit,"

The corpse kept shuffling closer, chomping its jaw at the air in front of it.

"Fucking hell," I mumbled, taking off toward the corpse.

The impact from my foot on its gut was enough to knock it to the ground, exactly as I'd planned. The corpse tried to get up but I was too fast for it. I quickly brought my foot down on its head (the one with the shoe of course), splattering blood and brain matter all over the pavement.

"Holy shit," I croaked. I didn't expect it to break that easily. The thing was like stomping on a fucking rotten egg.

"Who's that?" I heard a scratchy voice behind me. Practically turning on a dime, I saw Rowan trying to sit up from her position.

I looked up at the sky and took a huge breath of relief.

"Thank you," I whispered.