Infected

Chapter 2

My eyes fly open as if triggered. Force of habit I guess. I look around and pull out a bag of crisps I had kept beside me before I went to bed and munch on some. I also found some M.R.E.s in the fridge which I stored in my gym bag. I finish off the crisps and throw the pack away. I strap on my utility belt and sling my crossbow over my shoulders so that it lines up perfectly with my spine, like I always do, then sling on my gym bag, over a shoulder and it crosses to my other side. I smile, finally having a good rest for the first time since the infection started, as I head out the door.

My ears twitch as I turn my head to my right, hearing something. It didn't sound like an infected. This voice was, even though in the tiniest way, more full of life. For a second I allow myself to believe that there is another human, and he in literally just around the corner. But I'm not going to act foolishly just because I think there might be another survivor. I remove my crossbow, load it and hold it in my arms, ready to fire, as I slowly inch towards the corner. I hear scuttling and pick up my pace, advancing into a gentle jug. I snap swiftly and face nothing but a wall; I look around and still see no one. I can't believe I actually let myself believe that a living human was here. It was probably just a rat or something.

I feel a rather cold hand grip my shoulder in a violent manner and feel my heart skip a beat. It is then I realise that somewhere in the craziness of a zombie apocalypse, I must have lost my digestive system as that could be the only reason I didn't toot myself. Instead, I spin around and grip the hand, thrusting it and whatever body it is attached to, to the wall. To do this I needed to drop my crossbow and I could see it on the floor right behind the things legs. I figure I can still use my daggers and stab it and I quickly reach for my dagger but before I can, my actions are reversed and my hand is grabbed and thrust to the wall along with me. The bolt that was loaded in my crossbow, in its hands and headed for me. I only narrowly dodge it and grip its shoulders, thrusting my knee into its gut. It grunts and doubles over and I send my knee straight to its face sending it flying back up and slamming against the wall. I draw my dagger and stab it, aiming for its heart, but it catches my hand and I grab its other hand before it has the chance to attack; both of us now at a still mate. For the first time I get a look at his face. It is actually a he. He isn't infected. Not a single sign of getting infected anytime soon. It is a perfect, leaving, breathing, healthy, actual human being. I stand there for a few seconds, shocked and bewildered staring at him. I can feel the smile cracking upon my face, my mind racing through it all. An actual human; right before my eyes. I can almost not believe this. And from the look on his face I am certain he is thinking of the exact same things and feeling the exact same way that I am.

I let go of his hand and he lets go of mine and for almost a minute, we stand there, looking at each other, no words exchanged, just staring. I'm not alone. He's not alone. There might be other humans out there as well. I try and clear my throat so that I can speak, but it is now desert-dry and my throat is suddenly raw. My lips are shaking as the words finally make their way out "Y...you..." and as if knowing what was going through my mind and what I was about to say, he opens his mouth and his lips as well trebling, "H...human". I nod my head once and smile. I am actually not alone. I am not the last. I simply cannot stop smiling; short exhales of laughter escape my mouth from time to time. I run my hand through my hair, "you're alive. You're human. There are other humans out there," I say as I scan his body for any scratches or bites. Nothing.

"Yes. Apparently there are." He says, smiling widely, before his face turns concerned, "You're not bitten are you?"

"No"

"Scratched?"

"Nope. Perfectly human, perfectly healthy. You?"

"Same" he smiles and nods.