Infectious

Thirty Minutes

We dash down hallways, staying out of sight as troops march the corridors, ready for action. We thankfully make it to a tiny elevator without being noticed.

"Here," Marcus offers Griffith a machine gun.

"Sweet," he says, his eyes glowing like a kids on Christmas. The Scottish man hands weapons out to the rest of us as we all cram into the elevator. Silence hangs like a sword over our heads. I can hear everyone's hearts beat together like a mighty drum. The blood pounds in my ear as my heartbeat quickens. Finally the whole elevator stops and we hold our breaths. It opens up and we're outside above the base.

"How much time before it activates," I ask.

"About twenty five minutes," the guard answers. The sound of gunshot echoes across the parking lot. We dash for the tree line of the forest and duck under numerous branches that stick out into our path.

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Backs hunched over the warm fire, we attempt getting warm on this particularly cold February afternoon. I stare up at the sky dotted with clouds here and there. I gather a few empty water bottles together and stealthily make my way down to the rushing river. I filter the water then fill the bottles, careful not to spill it all over my warm winter coat. The sound of distant laughing is heard from the camp not too far away. My breath forms wisps of hot air and I inhale the crisp winter air.

"Mind if I join you?" I hear a voice ask. I look up and make eye contact with Griffith, the last sun rays of the day shining on his face.

"No, not at all," I smile. He sits down beside me, legs crossed, and gently hoists me onto his lap.

"How are you?" he inquires.

"I'm fine," I tell him. He nods his head and I lean in and kiss him. He kisses me back but less lovingly.

"I don't believe that you're fine," he says. I roll my eyes and huff, getting up.

"What are do you mean?" I ask. I turn to him and make eye contact with his beautiful eyes.

"You haven't been talking to me and I found it kind of odd, that's all," he says. I give him a baffled look.

"Are you joking, Griffith? Not everything is about you!" I exclaim and turn on my heel, ready to make my way back to camp with the water bottles.

"You're right, it's not. Neither is it all about you though!" he shoots back. I keep walking, trying to ignore him.

"Do you really blame me for feeling jealous, Raine?" he asks me, sadness pouring into his voice.

"Of whom?" I ask impatiently.

"Of Riley for gods sakes!" he exclaims.

"How can you be jealous of him? He's been deceased for two weeks!" I ask angrily.

"Because you've payed more attention to him when he's dead than you have to me when I'm alive!" he argues. I turn to face him, my face contorted in rage.

"You're being ridiculous," I tell him.

"No, I'm being realistic. Do you really want to be in this relationship?" he asks.

"I-I... of course I do..." I say in surprise.

"Really, cause it doesn't seem like you really care," he says.

"Well I'm sorry you don't share your feelings," I retort.

"I'm doing that right now!" he shoots back. Anger boils in my blood and I can sense it in my each and every single vein.

"I love you, Raine. I always will. I want to grow up with the white picket fence and the rocking chairs. The sound of children's laughter in the next room. I want sunrises at two in the morning after a long night of partying with the family," he says. I shoot him a pained look.

"That's not the world we live in anymore," I tell him.

"No, but that's the world we can create. I wish to have no worries. I want to tell you, you look beautiful in sweatpants and mommy jeans with your hair tied up in a messy bun. So say you love me and we'll find this place together," he says, taking my small hands in his large ones. He searches my eyes for a sign if anything at all. Tears roll down my cheeks and he brushes them away with his thumb.

"I love you, I do love you," I say. He smiles and my thoughts are momentarily erased. He grabs my face and kisses me roughly and passionately. I kiss him back and it's as though all my worries have melted away into the pending oblivion of life. He smiles against my lips which makes me smile in return. We pull away from our entanglement and he stares at me as though he's looking straight onto my soul.

"So what are we naming our children?" I jokingly ask.

"How about Gregory," he suggests.

"Sure, if you want him to be teased!" I exclaim. He laughs at my joke and grasps my hand as we continue back to camp.

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We travel through the forest, feet heavy from last nights sleepless nights. As if my being an insomniac wasn't bad enough!

"We're here," Marcus says as we reach the actual middle of nowhere.

"Um, that's great and all but where exactly is here?" Arianne asks. The guard bends down and moves a few leaves away from the ground, uncovering a well hidden latch. The door whines as he pulls it open.

"Get in," he orders. We all climb down the ladder into the dark abyss. We all stay silent until Mia finally poses the question we've all been wondering.

"What the heck are we doing? I can't see a thing!" she inquires.

"Be patient," Marcus says as he opens a box filled with buttons and wires. He plugs a few together and pushes a few buttons. All the lights flicker on and I realize where we are. An underground bunker.

"Girls, turn left. Me and Griffith will go to the rooms on the right," Marcus instructs. We nod and make our way down the hallway. I throw my bags onto the cot and crash onto it. Finally, a real freakin bed!

"Ugh, what I wouldn't do for a decent place to sleep these days. This is the best thing I've seen in weeks!" Arianne says joyfully.

"I'm hungry," my mother states.

"Me too," I tell her. She takes my hand and helps me up off the bed. She sling an arm around me and squeezes my shoulder.

"You love that boy while you can, Raine," my mother advises me.

"I'm well aware mum," I say.

"But if he breaks your precious little heart then he better be ready!" She jokes. We wander around and finally find the kitchen. My mum searches numerous pantries and finally finds a package of saltine crackers. she hands me One and i gratefully munch away at it. There's an odd aching feeling in the pit of my stomach and a small amount of bile rises in my throat yet I quickly push it back down. Nope, it's coming up. I rush to the bathroom and lean over the toilet bowl, pulling back my hair. I vomit up the food from the past few days and my stomach wrenches at the sight of my own bodily fluids making me throw up even more. This isn't normal.