7 Days to Die

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It was the general rule; everyone knew it. From moment of bite, laceration or scratch from one of the undead, you had seven days. Seven days to make amends. Seven days to cherish every person you had ever loved. Some people even spent those seven days searching for a cure, but we all knew there wasn't one. And some just lived their last seven days without fear of the walking nightmares. Some gave up with a bullet in their mouth before day two. But to me, it was just seven days to die.

Day 0

19:43

"Aaron, get over here," Kara whispered urgently. She flickered her flashlight in my direction to ensure she caught my eye. I turned to her and nodded, but immediately returned my gaze to the corridor ahead. I had to make sure that it stayed zombie free – it was our escape route. It was a dingy corridor, no windows, just a door one side and a door the other. A fluorescent tube that had once been bolted to the ceiling was hanging half off, entangled with a cable that had been cut half way, and spluttered electricity every few seconds. The unpredictable sparks would have made me jump. But truthfully, nothing scared me anymore. Nothing but the insipid, leathery skin festering with insects that cloaked the walking nightmares. Or even their eyes; drained of any colour that wasn't blood red. Or their teeth, jagged, growing out and sharp in every direction. No, the worst was their long, knife-like fingernails. Mouldy and caked with dry blood, because just before turning into a zombie, an infected has the uncontrollable urge to claw at their own body, tearing it away like a soggy blanket.

"Aaron!" she snapped. I set down my flashlight so that it was facing down the corridor. If a zombie saw it, it's reflex would be to groan – that, coupled with the summer heat, is why they lived in a constant state of moaning and lathargacy in the light of day. However, in the night, they were silent and a lot more active. Ergo, dangerous. "Hurry up, it's almost night."

"I'm coming!" I whispered in defence. I snaked around a few upturned tables. My foot slipped slightly on something I could only assume was blood, but I regained my balance too quick for it to affect me. Still, I found that my right hand was clamped around the grip of the machete I holstered in my belt. Reaching for it was something of habit now.

I joined Kara's side, kneeling with her. She shone her flashlight into a now open safe that she had been cracking for the past few minutes while I was on lookout. There were a few bottles of medication stacked inside, plus a few canned goods and a bottle of water. "That's the best shit we've found in a few days," I said, voice low.

"I know," her voice carried definitive disappointment with it, but quite rightly. Supplies were starting to dry up around campus, and this was the last place they could think of. Raiding other dorms wasn't an option. If they weren't already infested with zombies, the inhabitants would be more than hostile. The medical bay had been ransacked before they could make it there, and so had the food hall. This small study building was the last place they could think of, and even this had been hammered by looters. Only thing left was this safe.

Kara reached in and scooped out the contents with one hand, wiping them into her purple rucksack. There was screech somewhere in the building.

"We have to go," Kara looked at me with eyes of wildfire. It wasn't fear though that had sparked the fire, it was determination. You could tell by how her voice never quivered in the face of evil. I got to my feet and turned around-

"Ah!" I cried. A deep, burning sensation setting in to my cheeks. It knocked my back, weak on my feet. But I didn't fall. Kara yelled something, and dove away. I grabbed my machete. I served one hack to the figure stumbling in front of me. The blade got halfway through its neck, and stopped. I pulled out, the zombie falling to the floor by my feet. I held the handle of the machete firmly between two palms, blade facing down, and with a burst of energy, plunged through the zombie's skull.

Immediately I fell backwards onto the safe. Since it was small on the floor, I fell to a seated position, dropping my machete to the floor with a ringing clang. It took a second to collect myself, until I got a bright white light shone in my eyes.

"Aaron are you al... oh no," Kara seemed to retreat from me. "No, no, no, no..." her head sort of fell into a defeated hang. I even think I heard a whimper. But then a shooting pain in my cheek reminded me that I wasn't the only one in this room who's life would be ending.

I brought a cautious hand up to it, to check it. Maybe it was just splattered blood from the zombie. I wasn't infected. I was so careful. But as quickly as my train of thought arrived at the conclusion that the zombie should have made a sound at my flashlight, my eyes traced the room for it. It wasn't on anymore.

I inhaled deeply, through tightly gripped teeth as I traced the bumpy valleys along my face with my fingertips. There were four gashes in my right cheek, the bottom of which joined with the corners of my mouth, and the top of which started at my eyebrow, running over my eyelids and ending up the side of my nose.

"Shit," I spat. Opening my right eye stung like hell. Like the very hell these creatures crawled up from. But I couldn't let it stop me. I climbed to my feet, breathing deep. Kara just kept her flashlight on me, surveying my every move.

"We have to go," she said again. This time, the wildfire was in hervoice. And it was definitely fear I could hear. I didn't bother retrieving myflashlight as we passed it, we just needed to get home. 

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