Marionette (A 'The 5th Wave' Fanfiction) [COMPLETED] #wattys2017

18. Zombie; Chapter V.

    I tighten my hands around myself and can feel my nails digging in. I try to keep myself from shaking so Zombie doesn't worry. I hate this. I don't even know what's causing this. I want it to pass. No. I want it to leave and never come back. I'm not some frickin weakling. So what the bloody hell is wrong?

    Zombie is chuckling at some joke he must have made and doesn't notice. Thank god. As if to mock my state of contentment he looks at me and his smile falters before disappearing entirely. "Rose? What's wrong?" Another shudder runs through me. "You're shaking. Are you cold?"

    I don't answer as Zombie pulls my cover all the way to my chin. My teeth clatter against each other. Zombie puts a hand to my forehead and frowns. "You're not that cold," he notes. "Rose, what's wrong?" he asks again.

    I'm so scared. I don't even know why. What's happening to me? I can't stop shaking. I bite into my lip in an attempt to keep my teeth from breaking but only split my lip. I can taste the coppery flavour. I'm reminded of that day with the targets and Reznik whispering. Slingshot calmed me down then.

    Zombie is frustrated. "Rose, talk to me." Nearly pleading. I wish my voice would work. Tears are spilling down my face and creating a wet spot on my cover. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME?!

    Zombie must think I'm such a weirdo. I close my eyes. And pray. Like at the church I visited with Ma and Pa. God is almighty. He can help me, right? I forget all my prayers or anything I could offer to God and I don't know what to say or think. I keep repeating in my mind, please please please please please like a symphony. Please help me. Make it stop. Make it stop.

    My body freezes and my breath is stuck in my throat. Zombie's hands are around me and are holding me tightly, as if scared to let me go. He turns my body to his to get a better grip and leaves his cheek on the top of my head. I can't move.

    I feel his breath hitting my hair and am somehow comforted. "Come on, Marionette, take your strings off," he whispers and it's actually the first time he calls me that. He's right about it sounding wrong. Coming from his lips.

    I force my lips to move. "I can't," I whisper. God I sound like shit.

    Zombie sighs, as if relieved I can still talk. "Why not?"

    "They bind me to my past," I answer without much thought.

    "Then let go," he reasons. His hold on me doesn't falter once.

    I gently shake my head, careful not to move his head. "I can't."

    "Why not?" he asks again.

    I ball my hands into his shirt, trying to calm myself. "Because I'll fall," I say in a strangled voice, as if I already am falling. Maybe I am. Maybe I was falling ever since the plane went down. Lower and lower and lower . . . When will I hit rock bottom? Have I already?

    Zombie doesn't protest. He's holding on. As if he needed me at this moment as much as I him. With no judgement or second thoughts. Just purity. There's nothing wrong about this. My shaking is easing and my mind clearing.

    Zombie runs a hand through my slightly messy and nearly white hair. "Then I'll catch you," he whispers out of breath. I hear his heartbeat in my ear. It's uneven but certain and not faltering.

    I push myself closer to him, further burying myself in everything that's Zombie. Everything in this world is corrupted and ruined and ugly. The Others made it so. They killed it. Not Zombie. He's the only thing left that's worth it. The only one who understood.

    No one ever held me like this, with so much faith and reliance and reassurance. So strong. So deep. So true and unfaked. Even Slingshot, who could have easily passed as a brother to me, could not achieve this. Zombie is Zombie.

    He keeps whispering, "I'll catch you," all the time as a prayer. I have heard many prayers but this is the most meaningful one. The one I would fall for at any day and any time. Because I trust Zombie. "I'll catch you. I'll catch you. I'll catch you."