I n f i n i t u m

Chapter Twelve

We didn't know then, but it was a virus that started it all.

If a person were to be bitten or scratched, hard enough to draw blood, the viral strain would be transmitted and wreak havoc on their system. The host would die from internal hemorrhaging before turning into the cannibalistic monsters that had brought the city down.

My mom's hand was cold in my grasp.

She was laid out on the cot, a blanket pulled up to her chest, her consciousness going in and out every so often. Despite the odds, she'd managed to hold out for three entire days.

After we climbed over the rubble that was once the Curator, we trekked for hours until we reached the neighborhood Jebadiah used to live in before the Horrors first appeared. The white houses were still standing, impossibly untouched, but I overcame my surprise not before long. I lingered by my mom's side ever since, only leaving the room to go to the bathroom when I needed to. As the only person who had the slightest knowledge of medical aid after having taken a first-aid class in the Hero Corps, I patched my mom up the best I could, but that was all that was all I was able to do.

I had no medical license; I was no doctor, no nurse, no scientist— but even I knew how bad of an injury it was. What was certain, was that the Crawler's scratch was infectious and the virus was taking its course. The others gave us our privacy and left the lodge when the coughing fits began.

My mom's skin, once unblemished and light as ivory, was now greying ever so slowly, and no matter how much I wiped with a cool cloth, it was always slick with sweat. Her body was losing the battle and it was only a matter of time before the bleeding started.

"Why don't you go out and talk with the others, ah," her voice was soft, tired, "you've been stuck in here with me for too long."

I rested my chin on my knuckles as I leaned over to place my elbows on the tops of my thighs, "I know what you're trying to do. I'm not leaving while you die alone."

The tiniest of grins bent the corner of her mouth upward, "That won't happen."

We both knew she was lying.

"You were always by my side whenever I got sick, nursing me back to health with vix vaporub," I sniffed, "I'm only returning the favor to you now."

Her chest lifted and dropped from a sad guffaw, "You don't have to repay me for anything, my son. You are enough for me. Just do good and be smart."

Her words left a sinking feeling in my chest. Mom had the most heart-breaking look in her eyes and I willed myself to hold her dark gaze brimming with tears despite how I knew my stone-cold facade was crumpling.

"I'm sorry, Ma."

She blinked and a tear finally dropped.

"I'm sorry for not making you proud. I'm sorry for giving you stress all the time. I should have listened to you— you always tell me to listen to you, but I never do."

A smile lifted her mouth and she sighed, "Ayah— my son is finally understanding. But I am happy I will leave with peace of mind, at least."

I didn't say anything. For what seemed like forever, I just stared down at her, letting the words sink in. I slid back into the cushioned chair, bringing my legs up to hug them against myself.

The peaceful expression on her face faded, finally succumbing to the pain that swept her body. My chest tightened at the tears of blood that rolled down her face, and my throat constricted, growing hot. I wanted to cry, but I had to be strong.

It became difficult for me to control myself when her pain seemed to progress, and with an angry curse to those watching from up above, I thought to myself, how could I let this happen?