Infection

Tag

Tag feels a hand around his wrist and jumps, expecting it to be the last thing he ever feels before he is Infected, like so many others. His heart is racing when he turns around, expecting to see the mottled face of an Infected, but instead he sees a small figure crouched in the dark. After knowing her for so long, he recognizes the outline of his best friend Mina. Mina, who he hasn't seen since her mother caught the Infection. He thought Mina had it too.
      "Mina!" He chokes out, inspecting her for the symptoms of the Infection. It's too dark to see anything this late, especially since he doesn't care have the lights on. Electricity still works, but Tag is smart and won't risk it. He's been hiding here for days from the masses of Infected in what was once a peaceful city.
       "I didn't hear you come in," he whispers, slightly uneasy. Infected are quiet and quick, but if Mina was Infected she would have attacked by now- right? She still hasn't said anything, and that should be a warning sign to him, but like an idiot he reaches out for the light switch.
        "M-Mina?" He stutters, waiting for his fingers to find the switch, ignoring the fact that light draws Infected. He needs to see Mina, to make sure that she's okay. What if she's not talking because she's been hurt?
        In a second, the light flickers on, fully illuminating him and Mina. What Tag sees makes him wish he had died before, in a nice peaceful way, like a car crash or poison. Even though those aren't that peaceful, they feel peaceful based on what he knows is to come.
       Mina's eyes are bulging and the irises are fully red, meaning she has completely crossed over. They peer out of him hungrily out of a thin, waxy yellow face covered in blisters and fresh, bleeding gashes. The hand gripping his wrist is skin stretched taught over bone, huge chunks gone from the connecting arm. She's missing the pinkie finger. There is no doubt in Tag's mind that she is Infected.
        He tries to pull his wrist away, but though she is little more than a bloody skeleton she is strong and her grip is tight. He tries to think of something to do.
        "Mina, please!" He pleads, hoping to spark a shred of humanity left in her Infected mind. He thinks he sees a flicker, but then it's just the light reflecting off those red bug-eyes. He will be dead soon, he knows it.
         Mina starts to speak in that garbled speech all Infected use. These are the last words Tag will ever hear as either un-Infected or dead. He doesn't know which he prefers.
         The Infected chose these words carefully, based on any memories they have of their prey. Tag has always expected to hear them some day, but not from Mina. Never from Mina.
         "Tag," Mina whispers, and Tag feels hope flare up behind his ribcage, a small flame kept alive by the fact that she said his name, Mina said his name. The hope dies quickly when Mina grins, revealing rows of impossibly sharp teeth. "You're It."