by N. M. Black
Lucie was bit.
Lucie was fucking bit, and I wasn’t there to save her.
To protect her.
Emptiness consumed me and I stopped fighting. Dropping down into the snow and watching as my reason to fight was taken from me, left a void so large it swallowed me whole.
Adira, however, refused to give up Lucie’s body when she was bitten, running back to the clinic and growled fiercely at anyone who came near her without intentions to help. Going against every protocol we have in place, Adira demanded that Dr. Tanner inject Lucie with her blood, claiming she contains some form of antidote. Silence descended upon the room at her declaration as this new revelation sank in, giving a sliver of hope no one dared to question.
Not even Lochlan.
And now, we all sit here in silence waiting on the outcome of a long shot, praying for miracles while Adira and Lucie lie unconscious, fighting to return to us.
If this works, Adira will have saved Lucie’s life and become a living cure.
I’m alive.
At least I think I am. I can hear voices but can’t make out a sound. Their words not clear enough to understand in my hazy mind, but I cling to them anyway.
I feel a squeeze on my hand and I try to squeeze back to assure whoever it is that I can feel them too, but nothing happens, nothing will cooperate. I can’t open my eyes or make my body function at my command and fear begins to settle in.
I begin to silently panic at my paralyzed state and the room takes notice as the sound of the incessant beeping on the machine brings attention to my rapidly spiking heart rate. I hear a shuffle beside me and want to scream for help, but nothing fucking happens.
The beeping continues to speed up as I proceed to freak the fuck out, trapped in my unmoving body. When suddenly a cold sensation crawls up my arm and within seconds my anxiety recedes and a soothing blackness takes its place. I welcome the darkness and its comfort and embrace it like a mother’s love as it whisks me into slumber.
It’s been three days since Lucie was bit, and three days I’ve lived in this darkness. My own personal hell surrounding me as she lies motionless. The longer we sit here, the more hope drains from my body and doubt settles in, weaving its mental torture through my exhausted brain.
I hold her hand and tell her things I’ve never said to her, things that I should have said long before this moment existed. I don’t care how old she is, or who hears it, or what they think of it or us, because she needs to know what she’s fighting for.
I know she can hear me, I can feel it. I just need her back. I need her to tell me she’s alright so that I can be alright.
“How’s she doing?” Bea’s voice startles me from the door. She refuses to come inside the room, saying it will only make things more real.
Me? I haven’t left her side once, only to use the washroom and only because it’s attached to her room. Any further away and they would have to bring me a commode or hook up a catheter, because there is no chance in fucking hell that I am leaving her side.
“Honestly? I don’t know. I thought for sure she would be awake by now. Adira has already woken up and is out and about helping fortify fences and fighting off attacks. Lucie hasn’t even opened her fucking eyes yet.” I lean forward on my elbows and pull the strands of my hair, positive I must be almost bald at this point, for how much I’ve been doing it lately.
“She’ll wake up.”
Her words sounded so convincing, so sure, but I couldn’t latch onto the hope they were intended to instill as despair descends upon me in her ever-growing absence.
She’s my light, my sunshine, my horizon in the darkness that is now our miserable existence and I’m not sure I can survive without her.
Silence greets me as the fog begins to lift. I’m not sure how long I’ve been out, but when I can finally open my eyes, I only want to close them again. The bright overhead lights make me hiss in pain as they cause my head to pound immediately. I lift my hands to cradle it and block out the offending glow, but when I do, I’m forced to knock another hand loose.
Looking down, I’m met with the most beautiful set of eyes I have ever seen and I take in my fill for what seems like the first time. Ocean blue, with flecks of gold and a green ring around the pupil, stare back at me in hope. Dark circles sit under their rich colours making his exhaustion more prominent.
Chris.
“Hey.” His voice sounding like gravel. He tries to clear his throat but it still sounds the same, as though he hasn’t used it in weeks. He sits up suddenly and flits about, trying to busy his hands. “How are you feeling?”
“I—” I try to speak, but nothing comes out, my mouth dry from the days of lack of use. Chris is out of his chair and in the hallway, shouting, “She’s awake!” and “I need water stat!” before I have the chance to try again. I almost chuckle at his absurdity, but can’t muster the energy.
Left alone as Chris tracks down some water, my eyes scan the room, unable to focus on one thing. Everything looks so different, yet the same. The colours are brighter, the fabric softer. I can’t tell if it’s because I’ve been absent from this stuff and it’s like seeing it for the first time or because of the effects of the zombie bite.
A tear slips free at that thought, remembering what happened and my emotions begin to overwhelm me in an instant. Fear, anger, relief and about a thousand others clash, each fighting for sovereignty.
I reach up to touch the place where I was bitten, still tender, I grasp my arm and hiss as the pain amplifies at my touch. The traitorous machine beside me kicks into high gear, as my heart tries to escape the confines of my chest, thundering loudly against my ribs. I clutch my throat as my breathing begins to wheeze and my airway constricts, as I begin to panic.
I reach for the blanket and toss it off me, too hot and tempered to be confined, but as soon as I swing my legs over the side of the bed, a soft hand lands on my arm to stop me. I release a silent scream in response, my mouth still resembling a desert as I try to scramble away.
“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise,” Adira coos from beside me. I have no idea where the fuck she just came from or how I never noticed her before, but her words cause me to still for a moment allowing me to gather my bearings.
“There you go. Deep breaths. Just like that.” She continues her siren song as I slowly match my breathing to hers.
“What happened? Did I die? Am I one of them?” I whisper as another tear escapes down my cheek. I know I can’t be one of them as I can still form coherent words and thoughts, but that doesn’t mean I am human either.
“No Lucie, you’re not one of them. You’re something different. Something stronger. Something powerful. And something everyone and no one wants.” Her face shows relief but fear and guilt ride shotgun along with it. I’m confused by her contradictory statement, but before I have the chance to ask, Dr. Tanner walks in and effectively halts the conversation.
“Welcome back to the land of the living, Lucie,” Dr. Tanner jokes, though no one seems to laugh but her. She at least has the decency to blush and feel embarrassed at her lame attempt for humour. I, for one, don’t find anything remotely funny about my current situation. I have no idea what condition I fall under or what to expect now.
All I know is, what happened is not right or normal and I know that this is just the beginning.
3 months later…
“We need to do more medical runs,” I address the group, as this is my number one concern, just like every other meeting in the last 3 months.
Since Lucie was bit and Adira gave her her blood, stopping the transition process and making her into the same type of hybrid as Adira, Dr. Tanner has been running test after test on both of them, hoping to come up with some form of cure. And because of that, we are going through medical supplies faster than usual. Not to mention whatever the fuck is going on with Lucie and her new quirk.
“We’ve tried! No one can get close enough to get the supplies needed. I d
on’t know how Lucie fucking did it man. You have to be a god damned ninja,” Dante says, looking at Lochlan with a strange look on his face. Dante has been going on runs with Bea and some of the others as a stand in for Lucie, but it takes two crews to do the same job her and Bea did, and still we don’t have enough.
This winter has been bad, taking its toll on everyone and causing us to go through more supplies than we originally anticipated. Not to mention, we’ve taken in more people since then, and had to ensure everyone was set up to survive.
“How is it that a seventy something alcoholic woman and a fucking teenage girl can feed, clothe and provide for an entire community, including medical supplies and equipment, but two grown men can’t manage to get so much as a fucking bandaid?” I growl in frustration. I know it’s difficult and I get what they do isn’t easy, but come on, how bad could it possibly be?
“Fuck you, you little punk!” Bea spits at me as she flies from her chair, ready to lunge at me while Tripp and Grey hold her back.
“Do you have any idea how dangerous hospitals are? Or hell, even clinics these days?” Dante tosses in my direction, clearly privy to information that I seem to be in the dark about in this situation.
“You think you can do better? Come with me pretty boy, I’ll show you what my girl does that no one else can,” Bea throws out in her usual unenthusiastic tone towards me and I just shake my head at her nonsense.
“Come on, Christopher. Pfft, I bet you don’t make it 24 hours.” She taunts me further, trying to get a rise out of me, and shit if it ain’t working.
“No skin off my back,” she finishes with a shrug, as if the thought of me dying is no big deal. God, this fucking woman irritates the shit out of me and she knows damn well that if it wasn’t for Lucie, I would have put her in her place months ago.
“I can’t do it without her and you know it. The whole community has been suffering since you’ve decided to pull her away from collecting. This community relies on her and these runs. Even you,” she directs at me while extracting herself from the meeting, but her statement was more geared towards Lochlan and his decision.
You see, after Lucie was bit, Lochlan pulled her from doing runs until we could be sure she was well enough to do them and to guarantee there were no damaging or lasting side effects. Adira assured everyone that Lucie is and would be fine, and swore up and down that it was all normal, but after three months, even she doesn’t seem as convinced anymore.
There are a few major differences that everyone is aware of, between Adira and Lucie’s transitions, and when we realized we weren’t dealing with the exact same thing, we had to reevaluate the situation.
Adira didn’t have that lengthy unconscious period like Lucie did, which Dr. Tanner has chalked up to the amount of morphine she was subjected to during her transition. But Lucie was out for almost a week and she didn’t seem to bounce back as quickly either, according to Adira.
Adira also doesn’t seem to weaken like Lucie does after a certain period of time or after expelling energy. In fact, Lucie seems weak more often than not, where as Adira is the opposite. I’m not even sure anyone has noticed it at this point, as everyone clings to the hope of what this could mean for the future, but I noticed it. I notice everything when it comes to Lucie.
Every time Lucie weakens, it seems to be at an almost dangerous level and we have to give her a blood transfusion to restore her energy. Whereas Adira only seems to weaken after being bitten.
I've started to wonder if Lucie is beginning to crave the transfusions or the blood itself, as though she’s trying to sate a different kind of hunger. The timeframe between her transfusions is growing less and less. And Lucie is always at her strongest after a transfusion. I’m starting to believe that she is needing the blood in order to survive, unlike Adira.
No one else seems to realize this possibly monumental and life altering fact, and I don't plan to alert them of it yet. At least not until I can be sure.
When Lucie turned, she fed from Adira directly, before anyone was able to inject her with Adira’s blood and antibodies, and maybe that has something to do with it? I mean, I’m totally reaching here with this idea, but can you blame me? At this point, anything could be possible. For fuck’s sake, there are zombies running around.
Fucking zombies!
No one has tested this theory, yet as no one actually realizes what is happening to the full extent at this point. With everything that has been happening here lately, the fact she is alive is in the plus books, no one seems to really care beyond that.
But how would I even go about testing this theory? Shit, I don’t even know if I have a theory, because I feel like I’m starting to go insane just thinking about this, but at this point, I’ll try anything to help Lucie. Except, I have no idea where to even begin. It's not like she's a damn vampire and I could entice her with my blood or some shit.
Or can I?
Stepping out into the crisp night air I take a deep breath and inhale the calm created by the darkness. The daylight is not my friend these days, not that I can’t go out in it, it’s just too overwhelming, so when Chris suggested a late dinner, I was beyond grateful. Since my shift, my senses have been heightened, sunlight, loud noises and even people can create sensory overload, causing me to pretty much hole up indoors as much as possible. Not to mention, no one seems to want to be around me.
Well, no one but Chris.
Everyone has been nice and supportive since the incident, don’t get me wrong, but that is about the extent of it. People fear the unknown, especially since the outbreak and I am no exception. The fact that no one knows why I weaken, or why I have sensitivities makes me “unpredictable, different, and unique” are the terms most often used, and people don’t like different. Sure Dr. Tanner is nice, but to her, I’m more or less a science experiment until she can figure out why I’m weakening and how Adira’s blood can help others.
But Chris is different. He doesn’t shy from being in my presence like the others do. In fact, since I shifted, he is around me a lot more. Not that we never hung around before, but it was always in a mutual setting with other people, unlike tonight. This is the first time Chris has ever invited me over to his place and the first time we will be spending any definitive time alone together. To say I’m nervous is a severe understatement.
Butterflies take flight in my stomach at the reminder and it takes me a moment to reign in my emotions. The last thing we need tonight is for my system to crash and have to go see Dr. Tanner for another treatment. I just had one the other day and we are beginning to run dangerously low on our blood supply, among other things.
Which is another reason he asked me over tonight. He said he has some questions about locations and supplies that might help the next crew to go out. Multiple teams have tried, but all seem to come up short of what Bea and I were capable of not long ago. I’ve helped as much as possible from the sidelines in anyway I possibly can, but it’s not enough. They haven’t been able to keep up with the demand since they benched me and now the community is beginning to suffer slowly. Our catalogue of supplies is dwindling down rapidly and no there is one to replenish it like before.
Last week, Lochlan was forced to turn away a few humans we found not far from the gates, due to lack of provisions, but if we don’t do something soon, our own survival rate is going to diminish significantly.
I’m hoping this dinner tonight is the leaders coming to their senses and are letting me go back out again. But I definitely won’t get my hopes up. It sounds more like a recon conversation more than anything.
I knock on his door and wait. I fidget while trying to chase the last bit of nerves and butterflies before I manage to make a fool of myself.
“Hey!” Chris says enthusiastically as he swings open the door, wearing a pair of grey track pants and tight white t-shirt that leaves nothing to the imagination. Ripples of muscle prominent through the fabric and making my inner sex kitten purr. I may not have a lot of sexual experience, bu
t I don’t need to when I have a great imagination.
I step inside and am immediately assaulted by the overwhelming scent of spices, musk and… Is that blood? Not the scent I’m accustomed to when it comes to Chris. Nor is it the smell of delicious food like I was expecting. The scent so powerful, invades my nostrils and I have to breathe through my mouth in order to tolerate it.
“You okay little one?” he asks, while I try to keep my shit together, concern evident on his face and laced in his voice. I hate the nickname he’s assigned me, but I can’t focus on that as I need to answer him before he gets suspicious of my reaction.
“Ya, I’m fine. Just a little tired,” I say cautiously, gifting him a small smile and trying to casually shrug off his concern. I don’t think he buys it, though he doesn’t say so out loud. Instead, he just nods and holds his hand towards the living room.
“Make yourself comfortable. I’m just finishing up and we will be eating in a few minutes,” he says backing away towards the kitchen I assume, as a weird tone takes over his voice. I probably wouldn't have normally noticed this, but like I said before, my senses are attuned to even the smallest of changes.
I can hear when he makes it back to the kitchen and starts mumbling to himself, but I can’t quite make out the words as things are shuffled around and banged together. When his sudden shout of pain reaches my ears a moment after that, I don’t hesitate taking off in the direction of the hall I saw Chris disappear down.
When my feet breach the threshold of the kitchen, I stop dead in my tracks, gripping the door frame to brace myself. Chris is on the other side of the counter, cradling his hand in what was once a white cloth, now stained red. My body reacts immediately and I stumble forward at the sight of Chris’s blood.
