When August Ends

We Regret To Inform You He's Dead

     I stare at Jons teeth in Troys hand as blood slowly seeps around his pearly whites and over Troys hand. Troy doesn't look angry or shocked or sad. He is simply staring blankfacedly at his hand. He's going to be infected and there's nothing I can do. No. There is something I can do. I won't waste anymore time. The infection could spread in seconds minutes or hours but I'm not waiting to find out. I race towards the two and as i do I pull the enourmous pocket knife out of my pocket and open it. Without hesitation I raise the blade, close my eyes, and swing down with as much force as I can muster. All I hear is myself screaming along with Troy and his mangled cry. I open my eyes and again take no time to think. I jab the blade into Jon in an area that I know will down him, and he crumples in a heap at my feet. I stand a moment without breathing. My heart is pounding. Bang! Bang! Bang! And my entire body is shaking. I look at my hands. My left hand is clean. My right hand clutches a blade and is covered in gore. Finally I look at Troy. He is on his knees staring in horror at his handless writst. It is a gruesome sight but I have a hunch it prevented the spread of infection. I quickly pull my plaid overshirt off and drop the knife. I wrap it around the exposed flesh on his left wrist as tightly as I can to hopefully prevent bleeding. All the while Troy says nothing and neither do. He is looking weaker by the moment though.

       He lost a bit of blood, a bit too much, and I could have been too late in saving him. But I can't give up. I trust I can save him. I will save him. I won't fail like I failed Jon. Troy continues to stare at his wrapped wrist in a daze. I look at my blood stained hand and feel bile rising in my throat. i force myself into a calm and then stand up. "Troy, let's go. we have to fix your hand." I say tugging on his shoulder.

"You always sneak off," he almost whispers as I drag him up and he rises with me. "You couldn't have stayed put."

"I'm sorry, Troy." I say as I support him as we walk slowly towards the stairs.

"No you're not," he says in a less dazed voice.

"Promise I am," I reply weakly. I feel awful. I've never done such a gruesome thing in my life. Not only did i cut his hand off, I stabbed Jon. What's gotten into me?

"You cut my hand off," he says more alertly. I help him get up the stairs. He's weak from blood loss. "Intentionally." he adds.

"I know..." I reply unhappily. "But I was trying to prevent the spread of the infection." I mutter.

"Which wouldn't have been a problem if I hadn't had to come looking for you and gotten bitten in the first place." he states bluntly.

"I'm sorry, Troy." I sigh as we walk through the hallway and into the lobby.

"I know you are." he replies. This surprises me.

"I want to get you to the clinic so I can treat it properly." I explain.

"How do you fix a severed hand?" he says unhappily.

"You don't. You just help the stub heal." I reply honestly. Troy winces as we exit the CC and we start on the sidewalk.

"Don't you dare start calling me stubby, Maya. I'll absolutely never forgive you." he says seriously. I can't suppress a laugh and we carry on towards the road.

     The sun is out now and it's very warm, but I don't mind it. We come accross a large rattlesnake in the road, and Troy wants to kill it but I drag him away from the creature and we press on. When we finally reach the little nurse station, I push the door open quickly and draw my gun. I look around the small space and see nothing. Once we're sure it's safe we bolt the door. I sit Troy down and immediately rummage for some disinfectant, gauze, and surgical tape. It causes Troy a lot of pain when I clean the wound, and when I apply a thick layer of neosporen. Also when I inject him with a dose of morphine. Wrapping the gauze around the raw area is also uncomfortable but when I accomplish wrapping the rest of the tape around his wrist and arm it looks good over all. I look at my finished work but don't feel accomplished. I did this. I took his hand from him. Troy catches me staring blankly at his wound and sighs. "I don' really want to make you feel better about chopping my hand off." he says bluntly. I wince internally at this but I nod. Can I blame him?

"I understand." I reply.

"No you don't really know how pissed I am. I've never had to deal with someone cutting my hand off to keep me from becoming a zombie. I don't know if you're my arch enemy now or my hero." he says sarcastically. I smirk.

"Whichever you decide I really am sorry, Troy. You don't have to frogive me but I wish you hadn't come after me." I mutter.

"All of this to say, Maya. I hate you, but you're awesome so let's keep saving each other in weird ways and see who dies first." he replies nodding his head seriously and yet comically. I laugh.

"Neither of us are dying, Troy." I chuckle. "We've gotten our hands too dirty to die now. We're in the middle of it." I add.

"Lucky you. I've only gotten my hand dirty." he says solemnly. We sit silently a moment and then both errupt in laughter. As we laugh I remember Jon. It was too late for him I suppose. Troy and I begin filling bags with medical supplies to take to the YC which a three minute walk from here, and then we head out. As we walk I spot an infected on the basketball court.

"Troy," I mutter nodding towards it. He grabs a pistol from my belt and fires. A good shot, it crumples in it's spot.

"I still got it! I'm a one handed wonder!" he smirks and I laugh. We quickly go inside and rebarricade the door. "What story are we telling everyone?" he asks me suddenly before we go through the kitchen doors. I look at him in confusion.

"The truth?" I ask in amusement.

"No way. I don't want you to get more trouble for this. You've already got everything with Jon, Adam, and Andrew on your back." he says in a sarcastic but serious tone.

"Troy I can handle it. It's my fault, I deal with the consequences." I reply quietly and try to open the door but he pulls me back.

"As mad as I am," he says with his hand on my shoulder and a conflicted look. "As mad as I am you saved my life so let's not hammer you down with this. I'll make something up."

"No Troy," I smile. "I'll tell them. Don't worry. Worry about you okay? You're more important." I say and he opens his mouth to argue but I rush inside the kitchen. Troy follows and we are met by the others sitting in a circle towards the back. Adam is sleeping in the middle of the circle but his leg wound seems to have been re-opened and there are pools of blood here and there. Everyone looks at us as we approach with our medical suplies and Troy weilds his stub- I mean severed wrist. "Hey guys." I say quietly. Everyone looks stricken and Grace is crying.

"What's going on?" Troy asks. Everyone exchanges glances in the circle. Then Chey speaks.

"We regret to inform you that he's dead." she says referring to Adam with a pointed finger.