To The Grave

Chapter 54. Marty. Day 384.

The sun burned down onto our backs, its rays entering our squinted eyes. I let out a long cough, choking on the dryness in my throat. Winona turned around to face me, her face growing worried.

"I'm fine, keep going." I waved for her to continue walking. She turned back continuing to walk, trying to catch up to the small crowd. I leaned against the median of the road, looking at the road running underneath. I struggled for air, finding it harder to recover after every choke.

The gun slipped from my sweaty palms, landing on the hot asphalt. I shoved the free hand into my pocket, pulling out an old dirty inhaler.

I pressed the mouthpiece against my lips, pressing down and inhaling hard. I moved my hands to my head, my elbows digging into my bony knees. I felt dizzy, too much so to be able to stand. I looked up the street seeing Winona still walking with the others. I stood up, lifting my arm over my head. My knees shook, collapsing below me.

I saw a flash of black spin around, growing closer with the loud thuds of two sizes too large boots running down the street.

"You said you were okay, Marty!" She screamed, falling to her knees on the hot ground. I sat up, pushing my broken glasses up. I grabbed my inhaler, taking another puff..

"I'm fine, I swear. I just need to sit." I gasped for air, feeling nauseous. "Is the group still walking?"

She shrugged, pushing her black hair out of her face. "Probably. I just turned to see if you were coming and you weren't."

I looked down the road, seeing a rotter wandering up the road. "Get it."

She aimed her gun, taking a small breath before firing the gun. The loud shot rang through my ears, blocking out all other noises for a moment. A new noise was echoing through the highway. "Marty, what did I do!" Winona screamed, the gun falling from her hands. I looked up the street to a car's lights flashing as the alarm wailed.

"You shot the car! It's going to keep going off!" I yelled back, struggling to stand up. I looked up the street to where the crowd had been at last glance. They had moved further down the hill, out of my view. I looked back to the car noticing a large group of rotters migrating from the trees. I leaned over dry heaving, my hands holding me up against the median. Winona rubbed circles on my back.

"Is this really the place?" She pulled my shaggy hair out of my face.

I stood back up, snatching my gun from the ground. "I haven't eaten in days, I'm not going to throw up."

I aimed the gun, looking at a rotter who'd moved past the car. I pulled the trigger, earning no result. I grabbed Winona's arm pulling her further up the road. A small group was approaching us from our desired direction. I pointed the gun, pulling the trigger again. Nothing happened. I stopped, slamming the butt of the gun against my hand. Winona fired her larger gun, knocking one down, but not killing it. I fired again, hearing nothing. "It's broken. It must have broke when I dropped it." I threw it against the ground, watching it slide through the small gap in the rail guard.

"Fuck!" Winona shouted, looking back at the car. The alarm was no longer going off, the herd around it beginning to diminish, noticing us. I pulled the large machete from my backpack, rushing forward, despite the stabbing pain in my stomach. I jumped on top of a car, watching Winona do the same. She stumbled, grabbing my arm for balance. I watched as a few reached the car. I swung the long blade down, cracking one's skull open. It fell down, replaced by another. Winona kicked her booted feet at them. "Stop, you'll fall." I screamed to her, over the groans.

"Worry about yourself." She shouted swinging her foot into one's skull, breaking through the bone. I watched her blood soaked foot slide back into place too close to the back windshield. She slid down the small window. I jumped, wrapping my free hand around her arm. I pulled her up. Her small hand reached up grabbing my arm. She crawled back up, standing too close to me. She grabbed the long knife from my pocket, beginning to turn. She fell forward, a rotter's hand barely missing grabbing her, just enough to still kill her.

She fell through the air, dropping the knife on the metal of the car. The metal against metal rung out, everything else in the universe coming together for a moment of silence in her honour. Her feet left the car roof, slicing through the air.

"No!" I screamed, my voice coming out high pitched and beyond distressed. Her long black hair covered her screaming face as she cut through the air. I crumbled to my knees, looking at her scared face. A loud thud stopped the scared shrieks. "Fuck!" I sobbed.

"Winona!" A sharp scream echoed through the air. I turned to see the remains of my family at the edge of the bridge. A large gun began firing rapidly, knocking down the rotters. I buried my face in my arms, moving down to cry on the roof of the large SUV as gunfire hit the car around me. I couldn't hold back the tears, feeling them welling up in my eyes. I leaned forward, acid rushing up my throat. My bony fingers wrapped around the machete handle, swinging it into the skulls of the dead, their bones beginning to decay making it easy to swing through.

Blood covered my clothes, weighing it down. I jumped down from the car running down the street to the exit ramp. My tired feet leaped down the ramp, onto the lower road, carrying me faster than I had ever ran. I grew closer to her. Her head was in Randall's lap.

Long uncut black strands covered her face. Randall's hand was pressed against her head, blood running down his pale arm. "She's alive." He pushed the words out, looking up to me with tears pouring down his cheeks.

I slid against the loose cracking asphalt, falling to the ground beside them. I looked down at the tear in the knee of my dirty jeans, blood bubbling up around a dirty cut. I looked back to my sister, the hair covering her face moved slightly, her breath short and shallow. I pressed two fingers against her neck, feeling a faint pulse. "What do we do?" I began sobbing again. "Randall, what if she dies? I can't keep doing this."

He pushed her hair out of her face, seeing a large cut on her nose, blood trickling into her mouth. "We just have to wait for her to wake up. We can't do anything until then."

"We're in the middle of the fucking road, Randall." I stood up, kicking Winona's backpack. A few things flew out the open zipper.

"It's not rush hour, I think we'll be fine." Randall snapped back. I grabbed the things from my sister's bag, an empty water bottle, a pair of socks, a few pens and her old notebook.

The notebook was worn and held together by tape. I turned it open, seeing neat handwriting. The first page contained only a date and the words 'The beginning.' I read through the morbid notes on what had happened over the past year.

A page titled Dead was filled with tallies, hundreds of them. The page ended with the words, "I stopped counting." I flipped to a blank page save the title Alive. Another page was filled with only names. Slater's was first. Kennon's was at the bottom. I flipped to another page, grazing the bubbly handwriting detailing the horrors of her past year..

"I kinda wish we had all died." She had written the words carefully.

I slammed the book closed, shoving it back into her backpack. I stood up, pulling my inhaler out, taking another puff. I leaned down placing my arms under my sister's limp body.

Randall pushed me away, "No, just leave her alone!"

I took a small step back, looking up at him. "She's my sister, get out of my way."

He ran his bloody fingers through her hair, smoothing out the mess. "She almost died because of you."

My broken fist slammed into his jaw, a few knuckles painfully popping. He moved back, his hand moving to hold the sore side of his face. "Get fucked. I didn't ask for any of this!" I held my hand close to my chest, holding back a yelp of pain. My mom sat on the median, shaking in her seat. Her arms wrapped tightly around her chest.