Don't Be Scared

S.1 E.13 ~ Doctor of the Dead (Ch. 105)

I watched as Warren grabbed Murphy's shoulder and pushed him out in front of us all.

"Murphy, go talk to them."

"D-Do that thing you do." Doc encouraged the action of a term he didn't even know.

We all stayed behind Warren while she stayed behind Murphy. We were her 'back-up'.

Murphy runs, Warren runs, Doc runs. Flight or fight, Doc naturally chooses flight. I heard Murphy clear his throat before watching his figure take three steps before squatting down eye level to the Zs.

"Guys." Murphy spoke up from his silence after a solid minute in front of the experimental Zs.

Oh, no. This isn't going to be good.

"These aren't regular zombies."

I watched as the outlines of his form began to slowly retreat back to us, "They're some kind of mutant thing."

Murphy now began to stand up from his squatted position so he could move better without having even the slightest chance of getting bit by one of them.

Shit, shit. Gradually, Cassandra and I began to move back from the group, testing the waters with each step. There is no way in Hell I'd be able to fend off two mutant zombies while keeping her held up.

It's best if the enemies stay focused on more achievable meat. 10K for example! He can, you know, take on two little, mutant zombies with his eyes closed! Suddenly, one of the Zs snapped, or hissed or maybe it was both, towards Murphy. 

This only made Murphy respond by jumping back faster than what anyone in the room would've liked.

"I don't think they like me!"

As expected, one of the zombies--Santa--finally made the first move, charging at Murphy with abilities common Zs never had. Oh, hell, no. With all the strength I could muster up from my muscles, I shoved Cassandra against the closest wall, or door, that was near us.

The palms of my hands slammed against the hard metal of the cool steel that was directly behind Cassandra's back. The heat vibrating from my sweaty hand clashed against the ice cold feeling of the metal.

Cassandra groaned while the rest of the team released shouts of refusal, cries of get-the-hell-off-of-me, or--in Doc's case--I'm-not-that-juicy. Warren shouted, 'be still' so many times I would've thought she was a recording machine. 

My arms were against the door I had Cassandra backed into as her ribs rubbed against my bandaged arms every time she let out a breath of air. My body was a shield for her; if they wanted her vulnerable form, they'd have to go through mine. 

Growing tired of the whole situation and the fact I'm the only thing keeping her up, I leaned my head against her shoulder. I rather get bit, willingly, than let her go through more pain. I put her in this situation. 

I'm the reason we didn't have enough alcohol to cleanse her wounds.

"I'm so sorry." I grunted, suddenly feeling all of her weight fall on top of my arms.

She must've been holding up some of her weight for me. My wrists bounded her against the wall like railings. Now, let's all fuckin' pray they don't give out on either one of us.

"(Y/N)!" I heard 10K shout from over all the chaos running behind me.

"Sides!" I answered back just as loud as he was, praying to whoever, or whatever, that a Z wouldn't hear my voice and begin to grow curious of the new noise.

God must be out of commission today, because instead of feeling something alive, something warm, I felt the cold, skin-tearing sensation of nails gripping my shoulder. My body wasn't reacting like it should've, because I had a 130 pound female to keep held up so I couldn't go into fight mode. 

I lifted my head up and did what Doc usual does, I screamed like Hell was trying to drag me down. What screaming was actually going to do for me, I didn't know, but it felt right. I had no other option on the table.

If I let go of the wall, Cassandra falls and hurts herself even worse. If I stay silent, I don't get heard so help can't come my way. I take the bite like a champion, and everything I've risked for Mack, for Charlie goes down the drain.

The sharp tips of his nails dented my skin, but before the presence of the undead could infect me fully, the death-vibe it brought with it suddenly disappeared from behind me. The scream of my voice halted as my breath hitched inside my throat. 

My eyes slammed shut from fear invading my body as if it was the plague. Don't be scared. Instead of my own voice echoing that inside my head, I could her 10K's voice repeating the words over and over in my mind.

Like he won't ever go away, especially when I need him the most. Invisible spikes caressed my skin under my shirt as warmth spread across my entire back. Fear was no longer something that came to mind once this person touched me.

Fear wasn't an option, either. I leaned my head back, touching whoever had their back pressed against mine. For a good minute, I stayed like that until a cramp begin to knot it's way into my neck.

I leaned forward, again, pressing my forehead against Cassandra's shoulder. It's either Doc or 10K. Since there's no shouting or yelling for me to move, it wasn't Doc. 10K. Tears pricked at the skin of my bottom eyelid at only the thought of him protecting me and Casssandra like this. 

|| And truth be told, I was always yours; when you woke me up worrying about the world and when I put a knife to your throat for waking me up ||