by N. M. Black
“Adira showed up not that long after you left. She says she’s here to warn us that people are coming to take our supplies and whatever else. Our fences were cut the other day as well, so I think Lochlan is starting to take her seriously. He has a real hate on for her for some reason, and doesn’t trust a word she says,” I tell her, trying to fill in the missing pieces she is unaware of.
“You think she’s telling the truth?” Lucie snides. I fight my smile at the jealousy that rolls off of her tongue as her face flushes in anger. I love watching the colour rise from Lucie’s cheeks, and down her neck. I wonder if it goes all the way down when she flushes from arousal?
A clearing throat snaps me from my fantasy as I’m brought back to the current conversation, having to adjust myself again at the direction my thoughts were taking me.
“Ya, I do. I mean, she seems pretty honest and sincere,” I say with a shrug. Which, according to her reaction was apparently the wrong answer.
“Are you guys best friends now?” Her words are harsh and angry but a hint of vulnerability laces them. I can’t help but shake my head at her ridiculous behaviour, but enjoy her reaction all the same. As much as her covetous attitude isn’t warranted in the slightest, inwardly I thrive off the feeling knowing she feels this way because of me. She is jealous of someone else, over me.
Don’t get me wrong, never would I hurt her in any way or cause her to doubt for a second I wouldn’t be everything she ever needed of me, but it’s reassuring that maybe my feelings aren’t one-sided.
But I don’t get the chance to say any of that before Lucie storms off towards the conference room and stops to speak with Bea and Lochlan in the doorway. I walk past all of them and make my way inside, my mood plummeting further as I continue to dig my own grave with Lucie.
I don’t know how the fuck we got here. I feel like ever since that day Bea told me to talk to Lucie myself and to stop coming to her for everything, nothing has been the same. I get why she told me to go right to the source, but I feel like since then, there’s this enormous strain on our once amicable relationship.
I asked Bea to talk to Lucie about her using a gun instead of that bat so she wouldn’t have to get as close to make the kill. Bea’s response,
“She had that thing, long before the apocalypse boy. Ya, let that sink in a little. You poke fun and laugh at her clothes and weapon of choice, well maybe next time ask her why she chose that bat? Why she dresses the way she does? You give her shit, yet you can’t seem to stay away from her and then make her feel bad about it. You punish her whenever you get too close and things go too far and then pull away, leaving her reeling and me to pick up the pieces.”
“You toy with that girl’s feelings to get what you claim you need from her, but at what cost? She is more fragile than you could ever know or imagine. Not that she would ever tell you that. Tell me, Christopher, what kind of relationship could you possibly have with that girl if you can’t even talk to her and ask questions about her and her life? You don’t even know that girl.”
Our last encounter plays over and again in my head, drowning out the conversations currently taking place around me, plaguing me with horrible thoughts and scenarios. But the sound of Lucie’s laughter pulls me out of my affliction and my gaze instantly finds her and the source that was able to elicit the sound only meant for my ears.
Lochlan.
Why the fuck is she laughing at Lochlan? He isn’t funny. I cross my arms over my chest and glare towards the hulking man as he takes his seat at the head of the table, opposite Adira, oblivious to my scowl.
I block out the noise around me and focus solely on Lucie. I don’t like fighting with her, and I don’t like that she won’t look at me. It’s taking every ounce of strength in my body not to go over there and make her look at me. Make her ease the ache that’s forming in my chest at the wall she’s put up between us and ease whatever is causing her worry. Lucie has never shut me down like this before and I hate it. I hate that she is ignoring me and paying attention to everyone else.
Completely wrapped up in my own thoughts, I hadn't even realized the meeting started and Adira’s already halfway through the different breeds of zombies before my mind clears enough to hear what’s being said around me. Adira begins speaking about “tanks” and I watch as Lucie’s face pales instantly and bile rises in my throat.
I’m almost positive she’s encountered one of these before, based on the fear plainly displayed on her delicate features, pushing my anxiety to a near breaking point. It’s always bothered me that Lucie goes out on these runs, and I can’t settle until I know she’s back and still human, but knowing that she’s already privy to this knowledge, first hand, in order to provide for everyone, makes me feel sick.
“What about Demon Z’s?” Lucie’s singsong voice cuts through my nausea. Her nonchalant tone at something so volatile sounding is what sends me over the deep end, causing what little I had left of my self-control to snap. No longer do I possess the ability to hold back, as my body begins to shake with possessive energy.
“I’m sorry, what did you just say?!” My statement comes out harsher than I intended, making me sound annoyed and disbelieving, but I’m struggling to keep myself in check and not lash out at the fact she knows ANY of this shit.
Everyone’s head snaps in my direction surprised at the tone I used towards Lucie. Myself included. Most, if not all of them know how I feel towards Lucie and what I can be like around her or what I am like when it comes to her safety. And if they don’t know, they suspect.
Suddenly, every selfish favour I’ve asked of Lucie flashes in my mind. All those times she shrugged it off while Bea gave me the death stare when I asked for a particular item. I put her in situations where she may have to face some of these monsters.
I did it.
I should be mad at myself, but right now, I’m more furious with Lucie that she ever agreed to do it in the first place. And how many others does she do these favours for? How often is her life in danger because of this? I glance around the table at everyone in loathing, their clothing that she sacrificed her safety to obtain for them. I’m furious with Grey for his extra trip to his old home for family photos, and at Lochlan’s extra trip for something from his home, and I’m angry at the entire community for demanding this of her.
Each time she leaves the compound I risk losing her, I know this, but hearing these things, and her corroborating stories is breaking me apart from the inside out. But it’s Bea’s graphic detail about what a demon z is that causes my whole body to react violently. My arms and legs shake with restrained fury, my fingers ache in protest while white-knuckling the arms of my chair, but no one seems to notice my internal breakdown. No one except Lucie.
She stares right at me as my mood becomes toxic, my emotions running wild and uninhibited. I’m about to demand she never go on a run again, that she never, ever leave my side and effectively ruining any relationship I could ever hope to possibly have with her. But before I have the chance to single-handedly destroy my own future, the alarm indicating approaching danger blares through the station and everyone scatters like roaches, grabbing weapons and ammunition. I hear Adira beg Lochlan for a weapon but he refuses and makes his way to the back where we keep back up ammo.
Fucking idiot.
The mirrored expression clearly written across Grey’s face shows that I’m not the only one thinking this, and I’m almost positive Lochlan is too, but his emotions are getting in his way and starting to cloud his judgement.
Like I’m one to fucking talk.
We need all the help we can get right now, and his stubbornness might actually get someone killed. Or worse.
The whole station moves in a well-choreographed dance as they prepare for battle. Some grabbing guns, others ammo while the rest suit themselves up to cover as much skin as possible. From what it sounds like, this is no small group of z’s coming in and they need to be prepared for the worst, while I’m forced to sit back and watch them go t
o war, so to speak.
I hate being left behind when I could help, but I know why I am not allowed to help during these situations and I can’t fault their argument. They can’t afford to not have me around. That’s not to sound cocky, but a proven fact.
Each of us in the community has a roll, and mine is to provide for the others and ensure our survival. Sure, Bea can do runs without me, hell anyone here can, but no one has the knowledge of the cities like I do. No one can navigate the streets and buildings as I can. NO ONE can get into medical facilities and make it out unscathed like I can. And for that reason alone, I’m required to stay behind when shit hits the fan.
But it doesn’t make it easier to watch as Chris is rushed out the door, strapped head to toe in tactical gear to meet our threat head on. Thankfully, this is not an everyday occurrence and less so in the winter, but it doesn’t lessen the anxiety that builds inside me at the thought he might not return alive. Or that he returns undead.
I stand in the doorway watching as everyone that is stationed to do so, makes their way towards whatever danger is presenting itself. I can’t see what’s happening from here, but the sounds of shouting and random gunshots bounce off the buildings in the dense winter snow, amplifying the sounds of horror.
As I stand helpless waiting for everyone to return safely, a flurry of movement catches the corner of my eye, setting me on high alert. Not having time to warn anyone else, I grab my chain wrapped bat and dart after whatever it was that took off this way. If it’s a sprinter and manages to get in behind the group currently fighting, they won’t stand a chance of fighting against both fronts.
The wind whirls in anger as the temperature continues to drop, making my whole body shudder. I didn’t have time to grab my coat before taking off after whatever was lurking around and I know I’m gonna regret it afterwards. The snow picks up speed and increases in size, reducing my visibility significantly. Ensuring I don’t catch my stitches, I lift and drop my goggles to keep my vision clear of the ever falling flakes and lift my bandana to keep my face and lungs from freezing.
Canadian winters are no joke, and without proper protection from the elements, you will not survive. Simple as that. Frostbite, hypothermia, any of those are deadly when untreated and nowadays, those who die, tend not to stay that way. We can’t afford any more undead wandering around. We’re already outnumbered and that percentage increases daily.
When I make it around the corner, I come to a screeching halt as I take in the scene around me. Blood has coated the snow like a crimson blanket of both red and black. Gunshots are fired with insane accuracy, leveling the undead on the opposite side of the fence where the rest are trying to file through.
That’s when I see Adira. With a sword in hand, she stands posted at the fence slicing through the undead army like warm butter. Those gathered, see the same thing I do and stare in amazement as Adira single-handedly eradicates ninety percent of the z’s. She wields the sword like it was made for her, like another extension of her being. And for all I know, it was.
Wait—is that Chris’s sword? Why is she using Chris’s sword? I got him that sword! I risked my ass to get him that sword and he just hands it off to her as though it means nothing to him.
I know now is not the time to be self-conscious or worry about something so menial, and I shouldn’t be upset. I should be happy that she’s saving a lot of lives right now, including my own, but I can’t get past the fact she is in possession of something that almost cost me my life to acquire for him.
Annoyance flares in me at both myself and Chris, as I fall back into the darkness created by another's shadow. I hate that he holds this power over me and my emotions. Hate that he still treats me like a younger sibling no matter what I do, still pushing me away every time it feels like we get close, but mostly I hate that I really don’t hate it at all.
I like the feelings that he evokes within me, or what he elicits when he gets near me. I like the rush I get when I know I’m going to see him, and the butterflies I’m forced to fight off every time we end up somewhere alone.
With my focus solely on Chris and what he does to my head, I don’t seem to register the sheer violence that is caused by Adira, but the moment she stumbles and the horde of undead leap forward at her disadvantage, I snap to reality and ready myself to join the mass of thrashing bodies to defend everything we’ve worked so hard for.
The rest of our army showers the group of infected with bullets, all hitting their marks with precision. Adira kips to her feet and doesn’t hesitate a moment before hacking back into the fray of flesh as the infected still swarm her.
Out of nowhere, that same blur of movement from earlier captures my attention, and dread sets in the moment I realize the trajectory.
“ADIRA! BEHIND YOU!” I scream as loud as I can, cupping my mouth to project my voice as much as possible over the sounds of battle. In that same moment, I hear the echo of someone else shouting at the same time, partially drowning out my own warning, but it’s too late.
The sprinter leaps on Adira and bites her shoulder, causing me to gag at the sight of her flesh and whatever else, being torn away from her body.
Fear propels me forward, ready to aid in the fight and give Adira a chance to recover and fight back, but the damage is done. I’ve seen it all before. She doesn’t have long now.
From out of nowhere, a bullet goes through the zombie’s head that has bitten Adira and brain matter leaks from its fresh wound. I look at Lochlan, wondering why he shot the zombie and not Adira, but he seems just as shocked and confused as I am.
I don’t have time to dwell on it, because a Z comes up behind me and tackles me before I get the chance to defend myself. I bring my bat between us trying desperately to keep it from biting me, as drool, blood and whatever else drips from its mouth onto my face and I have to fight bile that’s rising in the back of my throat. It leans over me, lunging forward desperate to make purchase, when flashes of Joe take its place. The snapping jaws, the look in Bea’s eyes, all of it comes flooding back and I freeze up, giving it the opportunity it was looking for.
Pain rips me from my memories as my worst nightmare just became my reality. Again.
Shit! The fucker bit me.
A scream rips from my throat as fire sears my veins instantly and the poison pumps through my body faster with each rush of adrenaline. I shake uncontrollably, but I’m not sure if it’s from the pain or the cold. My vision wavers in and out of focus, making my stomach roil. I feel someone come up beside me but I can’t make out who it is. My lip trembles as I beseech death, praying to end it quickly because I can’t take the fire that’s raging inside me.
I brace myself for the final blow. The one that kills me and prevents me from becoming one of the undead, but it never comes.
Instead, I’m scooped up and braced against a soft chest as pain floods my system and begins to take its toll on my body. Attempting to control my now irregular heartbeat, I try to slow and match mine to theirs. I do the same with my breathing, hoping to stall the turning process and maybe give them time to stop the spread of the virus. But even as I think the words, I already know it’s no use by the obvious signs showcasing that my entire being has been compromised. I can barely breathe as it is, my chest constricting in pain as my body attempts to fight off the toxins invading my system at a breakneck rate.
Whispers of encouragement break through my mental fog and I realize it’s Adira who’s holding me, protecting me. She barges through the hospital doors as another rush of pain shoots through me and I’m laid out on something flat and somewhat soft.
Wave after wave of heat engulfs every limb, making my back bow off the surface and agony like no other consumes me, causing my stomach to contract and folding me in half. Hunger pains force an unnatural growl from within me and I snap my eyes open in fear. They immediately land on a soft arm facing me, and I watch as the promise of life pumps furiously beneath the pale surface.
The need to taste it, taste her, ov
erwhelms me, prompting my senses to act on their own accord, and before I realize what I’m doing, I’ve leaned forward, taking her wrist in my grasp and inhaling her essence.
A shiver works its way up my spine at the delectable scent, but I don’t stop there. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I use my tongue to trace a line from the top of her hand to the inside of her wrist, welcoming the taste she leaves behind.
Without warning or a conscious decision, I strike, sinking my teeth into Adira’s wrist and breaking through her pliable flesh. A flavour so rich, so heady, invades my mouth and a sudden calm blankets me as a soothing coolness begins ebbing the inferno within.
Like an addict, I instantly crave it like nothing else I’ve ever wanted before. Energy skates along the surface of my skin, like a thousand live wires firing off at random. Zaps of electricity spark at the sensation of power being provided by the coppery substance as each swallow satisfies a deep hunger.
Gasps of horror and shock permeate the air around us as others file in and witness the feral side begin to take over. But all I can manage to do is stare at Adira in awe as I continue to consume her life source. She doesn’t pull her arm away or balk at my actions but instead cups the back of my head as if to encourage me to continue.
Tears form in my eyes because I can feel her pain, her fear and her desire. I can see her light and the darkness that seeps into her soul. But I can also feel power. A strength like no other that resides inside her and I can feel it as I gulp down more of her.
She turns from me and shouts at someone in the room, but I can’t hear a word. Fatigue is quick to settle in and my body is weakening and shutting down. Darkness calls to me, promising a reprieve from the agony and I go willingly as I’m pulled under its spell.
I’m not exactly sure who helped me out of the snow, or who hauled my ass to the clinic and deposited me in a chair next to Lucie’s bed, but I’m grateful they did.
I don’t remember much after the alarm sounded, but one thing I won’t forget is the sound of Lucie’s ear-piercing scream echoing around me. The horror it contained as her voice ratcheted up in pain, brought me to my knees as fear immobilized me.
