I'm Not Dead Yet...

Chapter 19 - part two

Hannah's POV:

I run to the cave and collide with Heather. Two bloody figures spread a pool of blood in the middle of the cave. Drakes body lies motionless, his neck torn open at the side. The zombie's head snaps towards us, ripping out a chunk of flesh. Heather screams, cowering behind me. I pull my black gun from my belt. Out stretching my arms, I plug two bullets into its head, exploding meat and blood across the room. Aiming without emotion, I shoot Drake in the head just to be sure. Heather whimpers, and drops to the floor, shaking. Angie and Jason appear at the mouth of the cave. Jason steps to me.
"What happened?" he asks slowly, looking at Drakes glassy eyes.
"Zombie."
I curse myself for how cold and merciless my voice sounds.
"You shot..." Jason trails off.
"Yeah. Twice."
Heather sobs a high pitched note. Angie is hugging her, the scene proven to much for Heather.
"It was horrible." she chokes.
"We have to leave." I say.
Although the cave was broken a save hide out; accessible to food, plants for healing, water and security, after Drake being murdered, who could stay at his grave?
After roo for a silent dinner and a mixed salad of berries and plants, we sleep at the mouth of the cave. I plan that we make it for the city the following morning, not that anyone would sleep tonight. Jason tears me away from the campsite to the edge of the trees.
"Hey, Hannah I just wanted to say that what you did today was so brave." he slowly trails off.
He reaches for hand. Snaking his fingers between mine, his hand is soft and reassuring.
"It was nothing."
"Shooting Drake? No, I know those are the things that break us."
He moves closer, resting his forehead against mine. His breaths are warm, and I smell grapefruit and rain. I know what he's trying to do. He wants us to be something. He doesn't understand.
"Nothing breaks me like they used to." I say.
"Don't act so tough. Every time I shoot, it's like aiming at myself. Killing a part of me every time I kill."
"Drake was a zombie. And the zombie was a zombie. Zombies aren't anything to me. Drake was something to you, not the zombie."
"Wasn't drake something to you? Don't act like he wasn't."
He wasn't. Only you don't understand. He rests another hand over my lower back.
"Jason..."
He kisses my lips. I shove him off, breaking from his hands. I slap him across the face. He stands shocked and hurt.
"Hannah? What's wrong?"
"You don't understand. You think you can just kiss me?" I shout. Shit. He can't get infected. Not him. I can't get attached, but I couldn't stand to see him slowly rot like the others.
"But why not?" he sounds confused.
If only you knew. Knew that kissing me would mean killing you.
"Jason, you- you just- we can't. I wish- we just can't." I tremble. "I'm not who you think I am."
He laughs. Cupping my cheek with his hand. He stares into my eyes. I wonder what he sees. How they changed so cold.
"Hannah, you think I don't know you are," His voice breaks,"your so brave, so strong." I push his hand away.
"I don't have anything you want. I don't want you, if you knew what I'd knew you'd feel the same way." He clenches his jaw, looking to the ground. I leave, his silhouette black against the scratches of trees in the night. I don't feel regret or remorse. I don't feel anything for him. He could get any girl he wanted, but he means so little to me, I would shoot him merciless. I'm sorry for him, but I'm also sorry for what I am now.
I lay against the smooth stone of the cave. The image of the bullet entering Drakes head replays in my mind over and over. Not because shooting him has caused me pain. Not like Heather. Because every time I shoot his head, I feel pleasure.