The Virus

Twenty Nine

I find myself waking up earlier. I'm less enthusiastic and full of energy. I try to ignore it but I know its true and so does everyone else. I wake at about five now, usually. Every so often i jump awake from a dream where Claire comes back and everybody's happy and we're all hugging and laughing. Then I wake up.

I've started using guns, actually using them, I practice often and my aim is near perfect. I can disassemble and assemble a gun in record time and the same with reloading. With no one to care for, I find I have a lot of free time. And, with more of a build-up of Roamers at the fence, I've been killing them with knives. I don't leave until they're all dead. It usually only takes an hour or two.

I have a specific daily routine now. I wake around five in the morning, get dressed and run a few laps around the school. I then put an apron on and go to the fence to kill all the walkers. By about eight thirty, I'm usually done. Then I take a shower, get dressed and grab something to eat. I do gun range until midday. Then, I study medicine booklets until three. Afterwards, I tend to all the gardens and crops and make sure everything is healthy. Then I have dinner and if I have the energy, I visit Jayden's grave. I talk to him a lot now. I agreed with everybody instead of doing a watch of two hours every sixteen hours that I do a block of five hours every evening. Either seven in the evening until midnight or an hour earlier.

I wake up and get myself dressed. Surprisingly, I'm rested fully despite my short length of rest. I make the laps quickly and return to get my apron. The fence is the easiest it's been in weeks. With barely fifty at the fence, it doesn't take long to get rid of them. I wait around for a while to see if any more come but none do. In the end I give up and go to have a shower.

When I return to the bedroom, Noah is there. "Ophelia." He says, giving me a serious look.

"Yeah?" I look at him.

He steps towards me. "You look horrible. You never sleep. You eat like three mouthfuls for meals and eat two meals a day. You're losing weight. Please, Ophey." He whispers.

I flinch. "If I look so horrible then why don't you just leave me. It's not like I'm worth it." I shout at him. He tries to hug me but I push him away. "No!" I scream.

"Fine! Maybe I will leave you!" He shouts at me. I flinch at Noah's raised voice, he never shouts.

I ignore the pain in my chest and storm off to have a shower. For the rest of the day, I work as hard as I can to tire myself out. I nearly fall asleep at my watch.

Laurence's P.OV.

I regretted shouting at her. I never shout at her. She looked so small, so frail. But she needs to stop working and working. No sleep. No food. No break. I can't imagine having such a full day with no rest or interval. She looks so tired all the time. I can't stand it anymore. I can't let her do this to herself.

That night I was meant to sleep in with Mark, but it felt strange without her, empty. So I gathered my things and went back. When I first got in, I thought she was asleep. She wasn't moving and he breathing was slow. But as soon as I wrapped my arms around her, she turned to me and burst into tears. They weren't to make me feel sorry for her or to make me feel bad. They were real tears. Her whole body shook with every sob and she clutched onto me as she murmured about how sorry she was. How bad she felt.

"Ophey.." I whisper to her.

She raises her head slightly. "Yeah?" She replies.

"I was never mad at you. But you need help." I say.

She lowers her head but nods. "I just feel lonely. All the time." She says.

"We need to reconnect. Spend more time together. The only time we see ever each other is here and we never talk." I say.

She nods again. "I was just trying to distract myself." She mumbled.

I pull her into a hug. "I know. I know. Claire's fine. She's out there somewhere." I say. She smiles slightly at that and I hold her tighter. We fall asleep like that.

Ophelia's P.O.V.

I wake up in  Noah's arms, holding him against me tightly. I check my watch, and find myself grinning at the time, it was nearly seven in the morning. I haven't woken that late for weeks. I feel genuinely rested. I sit back and curl back up. I don't plan on getting up yet.

Later, Noah and I decide to do the laundry together so that we can talk more. He brings up the fact that less and less Roamers were hanging around now, and we hadn't seen the herd in weeks. He tells me how he thinks they are going somewhere else, being attracted to another place. 

"Why do you call them Roamers?" He asks, distractedly. 

I shrug, as I fold a pile of shirts, "I don't know, Solomon started calling them that, and well they do roam a whole lot," I say with a chuckle. 

Noah nods and gives a small grunt of appreciation. 

I look up, "why?" I ask. 

Now it was his turn to shrug, "I don't know, it just seems so... mean, they were people once, a long time ago. They've just lost the war that we're all fighting to survive," he explains. 

"Yeah, but I don't think they really know what we're saying I'm sure it's alright," I reassure him. 

He nods, "I know but it just seems like another name would be more fitting... like... the Lost or something, you know gives them more dignity." 

I nod and rub his shoulder, admiring his empathy and consideration. H even cared about the dead people. 

After hours of washing and hanging clothes and bedclothes out to dry, we collapse into chairs beside each other, Noah's hand around my shoulders. I smile and lean into him. 

"This was nice," I murmur. 

He kisses me on the cheek, "Yes it was," he agrees. 

We each sneak a glass of wine and sit in the last few hours of sunlight together, bathing in the cool air. 

That night I feel more rested then I've been for so long. My mind feels at rest and the wine has calmed me to a maximum. Noah and I skip dinner and stay outside together, eventually we decide its time to get some sleep and  head upstairs together, we fall asleep in the early hours of the morning, surrounded by a pile of empty wine bottle and several glasses with varying amounts of wine left in them.