The rain lightly tapped against the cold windows of the yellow cab, slowly making it's way towards the black pavement below. A figure could be vaguely seen in the backseat, leaning against the uncomfortable seat belt that lay itself protectively over their body. Their breath clouded a small spot on the window, and their hair clung lazily near their mouth. As the car continued towards their destination, chaos ensued just a mile in front of them. It wouldn't be long before the driver, exhausted from a long days work, would almost begin to fall asleep at the wheel.
A screaming truck horn would wake the two with a start just a few moments later, and swerving instantly to the left, the taxi crashed into the darkness of the forest. It would be almost three hours before the figure that lay in the backseat would crawl out of the car, a painful piece of glass impaled into their side. The driver, however, would never wake up alive again. "Sir?" They weakly called, their hands pressuring against the wound. "Are you alright?" There was no answer. "Sir?" They called once more, almost pleading for the driver to be alive. Falling to their knees next to the driver's side door, the passenger reached towards him, trying to instantly pull back in order to avoid his snarling bite. But it was to no avail. The driver had his still warm, pale hands clutched against their arm, threatening to clamp his jaws over their flesh.
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I awoke in a cold sweat, my limbs plastered against the scratchy sheets that lay beneath. The scar that had been placed upon me years earlier seared with fake pain. A sign that meant it was the same nightmare that had been plaguing my dreams since the accident. Sighing, I swung my calloused feet to meet the freezing concrete floor, goosebumps forming on my pale arms. Outside, the moon was still a bright beacon of light, and the stars winked steadily at me. I estimated that it was around 5 A.M.
This had been the routine that I followed for as long as I cared to remember, and yet, that nightmare still continued to keep me from getting a good nights sleep. Of course, that was a luxury no one could seem to afford anymore. Grabbing the worn, brown leather jacket from the peg next to the door, I stepped out onto the crumbling porch, sitting there until the entirety of my body heat was long gone. It would be another hour before the rest of the settlement would get up and running for the day. However, it would be a great surprise to hear footsteps sliding into the thick snow, and for a moment my heart lurched, thinking that against all odds, an undead managed to slip through our walls. My fears would be dispersed when a shadow called out my name. "Up early again, Elizabeth?" Ryan asked playfully, smiling when he got in view.
Ryan Schmidt had been the one who found my bloody, unconscious form a few hundred meters away from the car accident. It had seemed that I had dragged myself in order to get away from the driver that, at the time, I thought had gone crazy. Later I would come to realize that the accident had killed him, and had turned him into a soulless corpse.
Ryan is an optimist man, even in the worst of times, and is one of the biggest flirts I have ever met in my life. His attempts to sweep off my feet always failed, but it never stopped him from trying.
"Obviously. Is it still a surprise to you?" I hummed, placing my head softly against my slender hand. Ryan chuckled. "Not really." He sat down next to me, picking at the pieces of rock that were falling off the steps to the porch. "Got a tab?" I had meant to get rid of the nasty habit to smoke, but whenever I'd try, I'd always end up with another cancer stick between my lips.
Ryan searched in his cargo jacket, eventually finding one in the depths of his left pocket. Gratefully I took it, and leaned the end of the cigarette towards his lighter, breathing in heavily after it had finally lit up. He watched as the smoke swirled above our heads and into the early morning sky, pursing his lips in disappointment. Ryan himself never smoked, and eventually started carrying cigarettes in his pockets after my constant demands. "You'll get cancer." He'd always plead, frowning when he saw my shoulders lifting in a harsh shrug. Now a days, he never said a word, knowing full well I would just shrug it off once more.
"Dani was scratched on her supply raid two days ago." I uttered, titling my head back to look towards the heavens. "I heard. How is she?" Ryan asked solemnly. "Bad. Real bad. She's started loosing her memories last night, and I've had to place a bucket for her to puke blood into. She's not going to last much longer, a few more hours at the most. I-I want to end her suffering so bad, but..." I paused. It was my own selfish reasons on keeping her alive. With anyone else, I would have put them down as soon as they had been bitten. But Dani was like an annoying little sister to me. Deep down, no matter how hard I tried to deny it, I couldn't bear the thought of never seeing her again.
There was silence for a long while. Neither of us moved, even after my cigarette had long since diminished. It wouldn't be until after sunrise that we would get up, shuffling slowly over to the makeshift building our settlement called a clinic. No one else was there except for another man, sleeping peacefully in a bed towards the back. If I remembered correctly, he had been the one to bring her back.
In the next room over, lay Dani, pale as the fresh powdered snow that clung eagerly to the earth. Her beautiful blonde hair lay in clumps on the ground, and her pink lips were now a frightening bluish-purple. Ryan took a sharp breath, covering his mouth with his dirty green shirt. The entire room stunk of decay and death, and even I had to pull the red bandanna that covered my neck up towards my face.
Ryan spoke first, his voice delicate and gentle. "Hey Dani. How are you holding up?" At first, there was no movement from the girl, and it seemed that we might have been to late. A shuddering breath could be heard two moments later, and Dani slowly opened her eyes. She looked towards us, trying desperately to push herself upright. I, however, was a step ahead of her, and was already pushing her back down onto the stained mattress. "You mustn't get up. You're sick, Dani." Dani begun speaking, only getting out a few incomprehensible words before coughing into the nearby metal bucket, the sickening feeling in my stomach becoming worse. "You don't have to speak back. Just listen. Alright?" Ryan whispered, taking her hand in his. Dani weakly nodded, relaxing into the the soft pillow.
"I wanted to let you know, that your brother's wife had her baby yesterday. She is so beautiful." Ryan stopped, trying to find the words to somehow comfort the dying female. "She has your mother's green eyes." He began to softly stroke her hand, continuing on. "She's quiet. Even as she came out. I...I wish you could see her."
Dani had begun to cry at that point, never uttering a single noise as she did so. Once again there was a dreadful silence.
"I don't want to die." She said, barely audible to the two of us. We couldn't say anything. Not a single word of comfort. Ryan pulled her into a hug, careful not to squeeze her too hard. "We all love you so much. Please don't cry."
During her last moments with us, I never said a word. Something I would regret later on. There was so much I hadn't told her yet. There was so much she hadn't seen. I remember her confessing that she wanted to see the world after a cure was found, even though she knew well that there was a very low chance there actually was a cure. After Dani had went unconscious, Ryan pushed me out of the room, giving me a look of sympathy. "I'll do it." She would turn if we didn't damage her brain soon, and the image of her becoming one of them was something Ryan and I never wanted to see. Before he could go back into her room, I harshly grabbed his wrist, my long black hair covering my tear stained face.
"I'll do it. Its my job to do these things anyways. Go get Alexandria and let her know she's dead. She's wanted to know the condition of Dani since she came back." Ryan hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not he should actually do what I had asked of him. "Please." I begged, letting my hand drop to my side. The male nodded, and hurried out the clinic door, wanting to be as far away as possible when the deed was done.
Word count: 1560
