The Infected: An H1-2M1 Chronicle

Chapter 14

THEN

I was on fire. There was no other way to describe the pain I was in. My eyes burned whether they were opened or closed. Sweat dripped from my body as the fever that burned through me finally broke. I laid on my back and stared at the sky above me. I closed my eyes and laughed. The sound of my own laughter sent chills down my spine. If only Jasper could see me now. I didn't know if he would be disappointed or proud of me. I had fought to the end. I didn't let them take me; not once did I let them. It was going to be over soon. The virus tried to take me again, but it I was stronger than it. I closed my eyes. It took too much effort to keep them open.

I opened my eyes at the sound of the gate closing. I sat up quickly when I saw him. A man rolled into the cage in a fit of laughter. I look around. People lined the platform above my cage. My heart raced. My skin was still damp from the fever but I no longer felt like I was being burned alive. I stood up slowly. My muscles were weak from fatigue. I had survived yet another infection. Every movement felt like I was underwater. I was a trained killer of the infected. One wasn't even a challenge anymore, but the fever weakened me. He was quick and agile. I could barely stand. The fever had burned through me. I needed to eat. They always fed me after I survived an infection, especially if they were going to make me fight. This time I was lucky I even woke up. This wasn't a normal fight. It was another execution attempt. I couldn't figure out why they didn't just shoot me if they wanted me dead. I saw the guards with guns. They could easily just shoot me.

I picked up a rock lying next to me on the ground. I wasn't going to mess around. I was too tired. I had been bit, scratched, stabbed, and sliced. I was as tired of this game as they were of me winning. I pounced on the man. I straddled him pushing my knees into his back. He didn't fight me. He buried his face into the dirt; drool ran out of the corner of his mouth. His laughter filled the cage. I rose the rock above my head and slammed it down on the man's head. My stomach turned as a crack echoed against the rocks surrounding the cage. I brought the rock up again and again until the cracking turned to crushing and the crushing turned to gushing. I rose slowly to silence. The silence turned into boos. There was no show. It was over too quick. They wanted a show. I threw both of my middle fingers in the air, and I turned in circles slowly. Fuck them. Fuck all of them.

I lowered myself over the man's lifeless body and opened the backpack he was carrying. I looked around quickly. I dragged the man's body to the center of the cage and sat next to him. I chugged the five cans of food he had on him. I unwrapped the handkerchief he had at the bottom of the bag and turned away from the decaying, maggot infested meat inside. From the size of the maggots, and the stage of the man's infection, I took the meat to be a weak old. I shoved it into my mouth, maggots and all, and swallowed as quickly as I could. I gagged. I could feel the bile rising in my mouth but I choked it back down. Piece by piece I ate whatever I could find inside the bag, each and every maggot. I searched his pockets. My fingers paused on the rubber handle of a blade. I slid it under me and pushed the body away from me. I backed away slowly. They would come for it when I fell asleep. Sometimes they would take the weapons, sometimes they didn't I had them until the next fight. I would behave tonight. I wouldn't make them need the tranquilizer gun. It was the only way I would keep the knife.

I laid on my side facing away from the cage door. I almost missed them again. They came at different times, but they started to get sloppy. They started to fall into a routine. Then again, I had stopped trying to escape a lifetime ago. I hid two knives in the inside pockets of my jacket, two knives they missed when throwing the infected into my cage to try and kill me. The jacket I stole from one after I sliced his throat. It was denim and covered in blood, but it proved useful in keeping me from getting infected. So did the pants. The less skin I had exposed the harder it was for them to infect me.

The men had guns, I knew they did, but not the two they would send in to remove the decomposing bodies. I started to get the feeling they put as many as they could find in with me. One was too easy. The show was over the second the cage was shut. The last time I was infected I had six of them. One of the bastards bit my ankle. This time it was only four.

I watched as the men walked passed me. I had positioned the bodies throughout the cage around me. One way or another they would have to walk passed me. There was no way around it. I lashed out slicing the Achilles' tendon on the man closest to me. He should have been wearing boots, but a good pair of boots was hard to find. Most people wore old hiking shoes, if they had shoes at all. I kicked out at the other striking him in the side of the knee. I was on my feet before he dropped. The popping echoed in the canyon. I grabbed his hair in my fist and slid my blade across his throat. I knocked the first man's hand away as he waved a useless blade at me and shoved my knife through his windpipe. I stood in the center of my cage panting. Not out of exhaustion, but out of disbelief. The cage door was open. No one was guarding it. I ran.

I heard shouting behind me but I didn't slow down. I could hear shots echoing throughout the canyon around me. I zig zagged my way through. I gritted my teeth and kept running as a bullet sliced through the outer layer of my arm. I could hear the deafening sound of rushing water as I approached a cliff. I didn't slow down. I leapt through the air my arms outstretched in front of me. I would either hit water or land. I would either die or live. I didn't care as long as I was free of those men and their cages.