The Plague

Chapter 4: Home

Is this death? Complete painless silence? I knew the zombie was eating away at my jugular. I could feel it's body pressed against mine. I could feel it's mouth on my neck, but I heard no biting noise. I heard no screams of the girl with a piece of plastic in her. Not even the breeze. Death is remarkably silent. I spent years avoiding death when it could've been like falling asleep. Maybe that's what this was. Falling asleep. God, I am tired. This is the longest my eyes have been closed in almost a week. I wonder if this is how death row inmates feel as they are electrocuted. I'd like to be electrocuted. I thought. I imagined, for just a moment, how the world would react if they knew this was the reality of death. Every sane person would've died a long time ago. I wondered if I should let the dying girl next to me just go with me. If death really was painless, then the killing pain in my side would be nonexistent. If death was painless, the girl wouldn't have such a disturbed look on her face. I wasn't dying, and the zombie on top of me had suddenly lost interest. I grudgingly forced my eyes open. The zombie on top of me just sat there, as if contemplating whether I was worth the effort of ripping apart. I shoved it off of me, and it just limped over to the side. It was dead, but how? I looked to my left, the girl was on her back, staring at me, my revolver in her hand. I sighed and went limp.

"Good shot," I mumbled.

Silence for a few seconds, then she said, "I was aiming for its chest." I nodded slowly. "Ok," I sat up. "Ok give me the gun, you might shoot my balls off." I stood up, brushing the sand off my clothes.

"We need to go..." The girl said.

"Why?" She points to my right. A third of the horde was running in our direction. The gunshot must've set them off.

I cursed. "Let's go." I grabbed my gun, picked up my knife, and shoved both in my pockets.

I put my hands under the girl and slowly lifted her up. She groaned, gripping my shoulders with enough force to make me bleed. I looked at the distance between us and the nearest building and the zombies. At a normal jogging speed, we would make it, so I began the jog.

It only took about three minutes to get from the sand to the road. We walked along the shaded areas.

"You still with us?" I asked the girl. She licked her lips and nodded her head. I pressed her head against my arm, and she wiped the sweat on her head onto my shirt. Almost an hour later, we arrived at an old Chinese takeout place. We walked into the back room, where the kitchen used to be. I rearranged everything. In the far left corner was the bed (a giant couch) that I slept in when I was too tired to go to my actual bedroom, and a tiny nightstand with a lamp on it. Along the wall was a long set of tables with sewing and first aid kits. All along the floor were my clothes, and shells for all types of firearms. On the right wall was my gun rack, filled with swords and knives and guns galore. I looked at the space in between two shotguns sighed aloud.

"I forgot my rifle on the plane." I said.
The girl made a face at me. "That isn't a priority..."
I made a mental note to get the gun back later once this girl was fine.
I carefully placed the girl onto the table. She winced. "You're fine.. you're fine." I spread my first aid kit in front of her. "You'll be all better." I hope. I said in my head. This was my first time stitching something other than myself and practice dummies. I silently prayed I didn't kill this girl I just met.

The procedure took hours. A lot of stitches, blood, and screaming from the girl. I almost killed her a total of seven times, and she passed out three times. When it was done, the sun had just come down. Leaving the house passed sunset was a risk, so I silently decided to get my rifle left on the plane tomorrow. Hopefully it isn't taken by then.

I am sleeping when the girl comes to. The sound of a piece of equipment dropping is what woke me up. Startled, I grabbed the pistol at my waist and aimed it in the direction of the noise. The girl looked at me,  I put the gun down once I take in my surroundings. She is sitting up, her hand on the closed up wound.