Zombie Town

Chapter 10

Beep. Beep. Beep.

That was only sound I heard within the hospital room where Greg was being taken care of. After Greg stopped breathing when we were in the burned safe house, Martha had called the police and a few minutes later, and the ambulance showed up. The police asked very few questions after Martha had zoomed off with Greg in the ambulance truck. 

"Was there anyone else with you guys when you found him?"

"No. It was just me and his sister."

"How did you discover him?"

"We were down there and heard some strange noise. We followed it and there he was, covered in blood with bruise all over his face. Martha comforted him and then he stopped breathing. That was when we called you guys."

"Why were you guys down there?"

I had paused for a second and I was certain that nervousness was spread across my face.

"It's okay ,Miss. You won't get into trouble for trespassing. We received a call earlier about this boy disappearing. We're just glad that you found him."

A shiver top toed down my spine. 

"Everything's all right now. Just go home, we'll find the person who did this."

I shook the memory out of my head. It was hard enough to believe that someone so cruel could do that to Greg, but it was even harder to believe skilled timing of it all. 

Think about it. When I first arrived in Holdenburg, the bodies I buried were discovered somehow. Then, they suddenly stopped. Soon after that, Greg found out about me. Next, he went missing hence, where I was now. 

Maybe Greg's dad had something to do with it. He did know about me somehow.

As much as I hated to admit it, Greg wasn't safe around me. No matter how cliche it sounded, it was true. But why was I sitting around, waiting for him to wake up, just so I could look into his beautiful brown eyes and tell him that it was over? Well we didn't really have anything, but it was a little more than a casual high school crush.

I turned around in my chair to see Martha and the doctor talking. They glanced at Greg and continued on with their discussion. Martha nodded her head and came back into the room.

She stood in the doorway.

"Well?"

"He's going to be alright. He just has a couple of broken ribs and really bad bruising, but he'll be fine."

"That's good," I said glumly as a thousand pounds of relief were lifted of off my shoulders. 

Martha looked at the floor blank minded. "God," she whispered. "I can't believe this happened. I mean, how could this happen? Greg wouldn't just run away like that, I know him too well. Somebody had to do this." 

"The police are on it," I reminded her, and she seemed to relax slightly at the thought of that. 

We were silent for a moment. 

"Only family is allowed to visit him," a deep voice said. We turned around to see Mr. Seton entering the room.

I got up out of the hard chair. "Sorry, I was just checking to see if he was okay."

He kept a straight face as if my words meant nothing to him. "Well you can leave now." 

"Dad," Martha urged until I interrupted. 

"It's fine. You two should spend time with Greg, not me. You're his family."

"Are you sure?" Martha asked. 

"Yeah. I should go anyways. My dad's probably worried sick about me. I'll see you at school." We shyly waved at each other and then I left. 

"You're such a jerk! Why do you treat her that way? She's my friend!" Martha exclaimed at her father. 

"Excuse me? What makes you think you have the right to talk to me like that? She's not a very good friend for you. Do you not remember what I told you about her?"

"I've managed to look past that fact. She's more friendly than you will ever be. She was here for Greg while you were God knows where. He's your son and you didn't even bother coming six hours earlier?"

They continued to yell at each other and  I walked faster. 

When I exited the hospital, I hopped in the car to drive home. Home. I didn't know what home was anymore. It certainly wasn't in here in Holdenburg but I was uncertain of whether or not if our hide out was either. 

In attempt to block out my vexing thoughts, I quickly shifted from radio station to station , but found nothing loud with lots of guitars. It was all electronic with heavy beats and stuff. The closest thing I got to rock was a song about a school shooting. I didn't know any of the words, but I made an effort to try. 

"But he's coming for you, yeah he's coming for you.

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks

You better run, better run, outrun my gun.

All the other kids with the pumped kicks

You better run, better run, faster than my bullet.

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks

You better run, better run," I sang but screamed and immeditatley swerved the the right of the road. With all the power I had, I stomped down hard on the brakes. The wind was knocked out of me and I struggled to breathe. 

When my breathing caught up with me, I looked around in horror. Someone or something came out of nowhere and threw itself at my car. The image dramatically replayed in slow motion inside my head. I could've just died.

"What the hell?" I whispered. My shaky legs kicked the door open and I looked around the road. There was no sign of anyone but myself. A little amount of fog brushed against the ground, but no one was there. I didn't hit it, otherwise there'd me some type of dead body in front of my car. 

I looked around in caution to make sure that I was alone, and got back in the car. My eyes stared down at my hands in my lap; I didn't drive. 

This was no coincidence, someone did this on purpose. But why? What would anyone want from me? 

The journal. My eyes lit up and I pulled it out from my bag. They wanted this. It really was that important, so there must've been some dark secret within it. 

Someone wanted me dead. I wasn't willing to down without a fight. But first, I had to figure out why and the answer was in the journal. I would have to read it, discover everything Owen Patel knew about my kind, and maybe, just maybe, discover the dark secret that caused my great grandfather to lose his life.