You Can't Survive Alone

Part 11

The next morning
I wake up. For once in my life I actually get to be alone. Figures that I have day watch also.
It's just starting to get light outside. It is probably around 7:30 am.
I get up and change into my newest clothes. As I'm walking down to the kitchen, I notice a weird smell. It smells like gasoline.
I run to the room we keep the generator in. The smell of gas grows even stronger.
I open the door, and there is gasoline all over the floor. I'm not sure what's wrong with the generator- I have never been able to fix anything- but it's leaking gasoline everywhere. I'm going to guess that's not good. All of a sudden, the lights wink out.
I run to Nick's room and knock on the door. "Nick! There's something wrong with the generator. There's gas all over the floor and the lights turned out!"
"I'll be out in a second," he says. His voice is groggy from sleep; I must've woken him up.
A minute or so later, he comes out, fully dressed and holding a flashlight. We head down to the generator room, and open the door.
The smell of gas is everywhere. It's awful, and I gag. Nick holds a cloth over his face and hands me one also. I nod a thanks.
He kneels next to the generator and is looking inside and everything, and I don't know exactly what I can do to help. I want to help; I'm just terrible at trying to fix things.
"You don't have to stay if you don't want to," he says, sensing my uncomfortableness.
"I just don't know how to help. What can I do?"
"Hand me that toolbox," he says, and gestures to the back-left corner of the room. I find my way there in the dark, as he is shining the flashlight on the generator. It keeps flickering on and off, plunging us into darkness for half a second at a time. I grab the toolbox and bring it back.
I will never forget what happens next. The air around Nick turned into fire. It went from cold to burning hot in less than a second as the gasoline vapor in the air erupted in flame. The way the golden-red flames curled was beautiful, yet deadly.
The fabric on my arm caught fire. I was about to stop drop and roll, like they taught us in school, but then I remembered that the floor was covered in gasoline. I ran into the hallway and rolled on the floor, but by then it was too late; my right arm was completely burned.
Where's Nick? I look around, but he's not in the hallway. My heart sinks. He must still be in there.
I race inside and clutch at the fabric covering my nose and mouth. The smoke burns my eyes and I gag and cough. I see a huddled shape by the generator. Nick.
I grab him and pull him outside. He's on fire, I'm on fire. I start trying to pat out the flames with my hands, but that only burns my hands. The last thing I remember is Aaron running down the hall, holding a fire extinguisher.

"...burns all over her arms, hands, face..."
"Will she be okay?"
"As long as they don't get infected... she'll have the scars forever..."
"Nick is badly burned... we hope he'll be okay, but there's just no telling with the limited equipment we have... he inhaled a lot of smoke, we don't know when he'll wake up..."
"Oh, Ash. When will you wake up?"

Some time later
I open my eyes. I'm laying on my side, and facing the wall. I try to turn over, but there's a hand on my shoulder, and a voice telling me not to move.
My arms and hands are in agony. They feel as if they are still on fire. My face burns and itches, as if it is covered with poison ivy.
I try to talk, but my voice is hoarse. The person, Kat, holds a water bottle up to my mouth. I drink a little bit, and gag. The taste in my mouth is horrible, like smoke and gasoline and rotten things.
"Is she awake?" Aaron's voice, sounding slightly worried.
"Yeah, she's awake," Kat says.
I struggle to try to talk, and finally get out a few words. "Is Nick okay?"
"He's badly burned, but still alive."
That's all I needed to hear, and I drift back into sleep.

A few hours after
The pain isn't as bad as it was when I woke up the first time. It's not as bad, but it is still extremely painful. My arms feel hot and itchy, and my face has pins and needles. I'm lying on my back this time when I wake up. I look around, and Zack is asleep in the chair next to my bed.
I get up quietly, as to not wake him, and almost fall over. As soon as I put weight on my feet, they explode into pain. I know I shouldn't walk, and I should stay in bed and rest, but I need to see Nick. I need to make sure he's okay.
I shuffle and limp my way into the hallway. I slowly make my way to Nick's room, and open the door.
Aaron is sitting in the chair by Nick's bed. Nick looks terrible. His face is red, and his hands and arms are covered in bandages. There is a white sheet pulled up to his stomach.
Aaron looks almost as if he wants to say something about me being out of bed, but decides against it.
"Has Nick woken up yet?"
"No. He hasn't."
"How long has it been since the fire?"
"Three days."
I nod, and limp out of there. I shuffle back to my room, and get back in bed. Zack is awake when I get there; I can see him visibly relax when I walk in.
"Where were you? I got worried when I woke up and you weren't here."
"I went to see Nick."
He nods as if this is an acceptable reason for getting out of bed. "Just be careful, okay? Don't strain yourself too hard. Hey, are you okay?"
I'm not okay. I'm feeling all panicked, and my breathing is ragged. I try to tell him that I'm having one of my attacks, but I can't seem to get the words out.
I start coughing, and coughing, and I can't stop. I feel like I've just been told I'm going to die and I cannot do anything about it. I look around like I might be able to get out of there. I'm coughing, and coughing, and I start coughing blood. This only makes me more freaked out. Zack is trying to calm me down, offering me water, but I need to get out. I try to get up, but I can't; my legs aren't cooperating.
I remember Zack yelling for Jess, and then I black out.

Awake
I wake up some time later. I touch my head; it aches.
I don't recognize where I am. I look around, and don't see anybody.
The door opens, and a person stands there holding a flashlight in one hand and a plastic bag in the other. "Ash, you're awake! Finally!"
"Who are you? How do you know my name?" I ask. I don't recognize where I am. "Wh-where am I?" I'm getting pretty freaked out.
"Ash, it's me, Aaron. Just lay back down, you'll remember soon."
I don't want to lay back down. I want to know where I am. "Where am I? How do you know my name?" I repeat.
"You're in the White House. You're safe. I know your name because you've been living here for more than a month now."
More than a month? I remember home, and then...
My memories start to come back. My head hurts more, and I gasp because of the pain. I touch my forehead, and look around. "Aaron. Hi. Did I just wake up?"
"Yeah. You were having an attack; you didn't know who I was, or where you were." He looks a little bit freaked out. I don't blame him; I would be too.
"Oh. Sorry you had to see that." I can almost physically feel another wedge being shoved between me and the others. Not being in control of the situation is one thing; not being in control of your own mind...
"This must be terrible for you. I just want to tell you that it's not your fault. I don't blame you for these attacks; I don't think anyone does."
At least he doesn't think I'm a freak. That would be even worse than this.
"Thanks, I guess," I say, wanting to change the topic.
"Are you hungry? I was going to eat lunch in here, but you can have it and I can grab something else."
"Oh, thank you." When he says something, I realize that I am extremely hungry. He hands me the plastic bag he had been holding. It it is an apple, a bag of potato chips, and a can of soup with a spoon.
"I'm going to grab something else to eat. Want me to come back and eat with you?"
"Okay. Thank you." Aaron is just sweet. He gives me his lunch and still offers to come eat with me. I decide to wait for him to start eating.
A few minutes later, Aaron appears again. This time he carries a plastic container of oranges, another bag of chips, and a can of tuna salad.
He sits down in the chair, and I sit up in bed. Eating is slightly difficult because of my bandaged hands and burned face, but I manage.
About halfway through our meal, Aaron speaks. "What was your life like before the zombies?"
This question catches me off guard. I'm not expecting a question like this from Aaron who is the quietest of the bunch.
"Pretty boring, actually. I was a pretty normal teenager, except I only had one friend- you guessed it- Zack. My home life was normal, my grades were average. What was your life like?"
"I had two parents. I had a dog, Harley. I miss him a lot. I got As and Bs. I was also a total geek. I was bullied sometimes, but nothing particularly bad or cruel."
I'm surprised I admit it, but I say, "I wasn't actively bullied, but people didn't like me. They thought I hated them, and I was mostly shunned throughout my school life. Actually, I was just shy." I frown, thinking. "None of those problems seem bad now. They just seem silly. I should have enjoyed my life back then; it's amazing compared to this hell on earth."
"Yeah. I wish I remembered more of my life before, wish that I had enjoyed it for what it was: normal."
I hold up my water bottle. "Here's to never being normal again." We tap our water bottles together, drink, then burst into laughter.