The Passing

Chapter Thirteen [updated]

This, the beginning of my end.

Sinking into the cold tile, a low hum fills my ears, taking over all other sounds similar to being under the water. The heavy cement block slips from my shaking hands into the deep crimson pool swelling around me. Flashes of the dead, the ones I love and recognize, strangely sooth my racing mind. Already, I can feel the virus seeping into my bloodstream, slowly tainting my once healthy blood. My body trembles on the floor, the pain rapidly intensifying with every tremor.

How bad is it? With two shaking hands, my fingers delicately feel around the open wound on my stomach. At least a knuckle deep, and a finger length wide. Warm liquid pools within its fleshy well, and spills over my skin onto the floor. Forcing my breathing to steady, I feel around my leg, relief only taking the edge off. Just punctures from its teeth.

I have to get up. I lift my head off the ground, instantly regretting it as sharp, stabbing pains explode from the wound on my side. Clenching my jaw, I suck in a gulp of air, groaning loudly against the pain as I force myself on my knees. God, just doing that nearly took all I have. My chest rises and falls as I try to replenish oxygen to my aching muscles. Everything in me screams to stop, to lay down, to allow myself to go and decay. Maybe there is peace in it, and we've all just been fighting like hell against eternal peace. But, if I stop now, I'll never make it off this damn floor. I'll never know if Sam made it somewhere safe. Alive.

Scooting on my knees, I grip my side with one hand and reach for the last remaining sink. Blood paints its otherwise off-white surface as I feel around for something to grip, yet there's too much on my hands to grab hold of anything. Sweat dribbles down the side of my face as the air I breath grows thick and sticky. Water, I need water. Closing my eyes, I fall back against the wall, unable to move another inch. Tears spill from my eyes as my body burns with the rapidly spreading infection. My heart beats rapidly against the walls of my chest, but not a single pulse brings a shred of energy. The fire tingles as it ascends in my veins, gradually tainting anything living and replacing it with a burn I'll know for the rest of my life.

A door is pushed open, and light floods the gruesome space. The scene is exposed, for its true gravity, and my heart plummets to the bottom of my stomach. Red. Everything is red. The stalls, the floor, my clothes. Even the ceiling above, holds streaks of crimson like graffiti. I hear something clatter to the ground behind me, and I sluggishly turn. His jaw on the floor, eyes wide and bulging, Lazarus stands at the opening. I hadn't realized there was a door that led outside in here.

"Kim," his voice is airy, and distant, the shock too bitter to taste. His head swivels as he takes in every piece of the horrific sight before him, and I can't help but grimace, knowing just how bad it all is. It's even worse now, with every dark corner illuminated, yet another life-altering nightmare awaits. Eventually, he spots the body and what remains of its head and his shoulders sag in defeat. His lips part, as if wanting to say more, but not a sound comes out.

I shake my head and shrug. "I-I didn't know it was in here." I explain, trying to keep my voice steady. Gingerly lifting my hand away from my abdomen, sobs wreck my body at the mere sight of the deep laceration. "It was in a stall. I was at the sink and I accidentally hurt myself and it-" Coming swiftly to my side, Lazarus kneels down beside me, examining it himself. With everything in me, I wish I could tell him everything is fine, that I simply fell and hurt myself. That this was nothing more than a careless mistake. That's what anyone would want to hear. But I can't bring myself to lie to him.

His sorrowful eyes link with mine. "You don't have to tell me." He pulls me into his arms, drawing in a deep breath. Instantly, I fall apart. Burying my face in his chest, tears clawing at my throat as he holds me. His own body is shaking. Every breath he draws is sharp and quick, his heart beats faster than my own. His hold on me tightens, like the realization is starting to sink in.