Blood Type Infected (Book 1): No Future For Man

by Marchon, Matthew

  “We’ll need gas, candles, flashlights, batteries, radios, clothes, bedding. We might be on our own for a while.” They all nod, I think they understand what I mean. No one’s coming to save us. It’s on us to save ourselves. “As many of us as possible should stay on the bus, just in case we have to leave in a hurry. What do you say Marty? Me, Felecia and two others?”

  “Sounds good to me. I want everyone on the bus keeping watch outside. We need to be on the lookout. Keep your eyes peeled.”

  “Is anyone willing?” I ask the terrified faces that fill the seats. “I’m not gonna lie to you, it’s dangerous. I need two. Never travel alone, no splitting up. One of us pisses, the other one holds it.”

  A hush falls over our small group of lone survivors. I can’t blame them. They’ve seen the most horrific things imaginable. Believe me, I don’t want to be standing here trying to lead them, but someone has to. I just don’t know why it has to be me.

  “Alright, I’ll go.” Tyrone stands up and nods to no one in particular, as if to reassure himself he’s actually going through with it.

  “I’ll do it.”

  We all look back to see Scott Buckley standing on his seat, all three and a half feet of him. Okay so he’s a little bigger than that but his uncertain posture makes him look even smaller, the way I remember him. He must be in sixth grade by now.

  “Like hell you are,” Neil shoots over his shoulder. “I’ll do it.”

  I look Neil’s little brother in the eye and smile proudly before heading to the front. I don’t know what the story is or how he got here, how any of them got here. Maybe he hasn’t yet seen what these monsters are capable of, but he was brave enough to offer his help. It’s amazing how different two brothers can be. At least Neil’s willing to step up and stand in his place.

  “For the record,” Ms. Higgins mumbles, I think more to herself, “I am not okay with this. This is not a good idea.”

  “Give us fifteen minutes,” I say, completely ignoring her, “then honk twice. We shouldn’t linger in any one spot too long.”

  “Aye aye captain,” Marty says with a salute. “Be careful.”

  The nearby storm drain is clogged with human remains, leaving a growing puddle in the street. It’s noisier than I would have expected. Car alarms are going off in the distance, TVs and radios have been left on, a nearby smoke detector’s going off. It almost makes the neighborhood sound normal. For a second I close my eyes and pretend it is. I pretend the neighborhood’s alive.

  As the other three step down, I kick away a broken side view mirror surrounded by its thick glass, reminding me that Felecia still can’t walk out here, not with their blood covering her feet. We’ll find some shoes inside. I jump back to the bus before she steps off and bend over for her to climb on my back. Neil holds out his hand to stop me.

  “I got her.”

  “Yeah,” Felecia laughs, “I don’t think so.”

  “Come on,” he groans, clearly agitated. “Just give me a chance. You never trust me.”

  “Trust you? Do you need me to remind you what happened last time I trusted you?”

  “How many times do I have to tell you I’m sorry?”

  “Sometimes, sorry doesn’t cut it.”

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Felecia, I wasn’t even in the room. Let me make it up to you. I’m stronger than Noah, plus he’s tired. Give him a break, after all he’s been through. Let me carry you.”

  “Go to hell.” She slides onto my back and holds on tight.

  “I don’t get it. What’s so great about Noah?” Neil punches me on the arm playfully yet he’s clearly serious.

  “Well, for starters, he’s the opposite of you. Ya know, a good person, funny, compassionate, attractive, brave. Shall I continue? Because trustworthy is in there too.”

  “Yeah, you forgot pussy whipped,” he snarls, directing it at me just to see what I’ll do.

  “Come on man.” Tyrone pulls Neil away before Felecia can slap him. Would she slap him, or would she rip his throat out? “Let’s go.”

  “Fine.” Neil rips his arm away like Tyrone’s molesting it and storms off. “But don’t you ever touch me again.”

  “Damn, I’m black, it’s not like it’s contagious or anything.”

  I smile and send him a silent thank you for getting Neil away before he and Felecia started throwing punches. They disappear from view but I wait a second before following. She seems lighter now that I’ve had a chance to rest and my heart isn’t threatening to beat a hole through my chest and get itself eaten by one of my classmates. It takes some of the pressure off. I just hope this place is empty of anything that thinks I look tasty.

  It’s a beautiful house, balcony overlooking the living room, crystal chandelier hanging high from the ceiling, it reminds me of my old house, before the divorce. Judging by the framed pictures on the walls, a family lived here. Mother, Father, four kids. I don’t let my eyes linger for too long, I don’t want to know. We’re stealing their belongings, not that they’ll mind. I try not to look into the kitchen because I can see the blood on the marble floor from here, and a hand that may or may not be attached to a body. I’m pretending the empty highchair at the table isn’t there.

  “Do you mind if I ask what he did?”

  “Not now Noah. Not now.”

  “Yo, Noah, where you at?!”

  “We just walked in!”

  “This side looks clear,” Tyrone says while making his way around the corner. “Half bath on this floor so check upstairs for a tub. We’ll get down here and the basement, see what we can find.”

  “Sounds good. Where’s Neil?”

  “He’s uh, he’s on the toilet.”

  “Ooooh,” Felecia sings excitedly in my ear. “Noah, please, we have to burst in on him groaning like zombies. Tyrone, hurry, scream like they just got you.”

  “No, we do not have to do that.” The thought does make me laugh though. “We don’t have much time. And Ty, get back and guard the door.”

  “But it stinks.”

  “Breathe through your mouth.”

  “I’ll taste it. Hey, you said if one person pisses, the other one helps, you didn’t say nothing about dropping a deuce.”

  “Alright, fine, but if he gets killed while pooping, it’s on you.”

  “I’m okay with that. Dude’s a turd burglar anyway.”

  Felecia and I burst out laughing as we make our way upstairs. I don’t think she knows it but Tyrone doesn’t think very highly of her either. He hates her as much as I do. Did? It doesn’t matter, I have Caylee. We have to put our differences aside and stick together, it’s the only way we’ll make it through this. Besides, it turns out it’s really hard to hate someone who saved your life.

  “I think I can walk now, we’re on carpet.”

  I get ready to put her down but don’t. “It’s only a few more steps.”

  “I’m starting to think you like having me wrapped around you.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. I just don’t want you to turn into one of those things and decide I look scrumptious.”

  “But you do,” she giggles. “You wouldn’t mind if I took a little nibble right now though, would you?” Her teeth glide over the bottom of my ear, either biting it gently or licking it. Either way, it sends tingles throughout my body. “Mmm, you are kinda yummy. If I do turn, I’m coming after you first.” Well that’s definitely not her teeth. She just kissed my ear. “You don’t mind holding me, do you?”

  “How the hell do you expect me to respond to that?”

  “Honestly.”

  “Honestly, I’ve been wanting to touch you since eighth grade.”

  “Oh.” Her voice suddenly goes flat.

  I didn’t mean to upset her but she deserves it for what she put me through. She knows what she did broke my heart. She knew it then. For all the times she’s hurt me, I should let her be sad but I don’t have the heart to.

  “Don’t worry, I got over it.”

  “You’re j
ust saying that to be nice, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, to pay you back for all the kind things you’ve said to me over the years.” I set her down on the tub and turn on the water. “Look, Felecia, you’re beautiful. The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

  “But?” she continues for me, with a tone of guilt in her voice that tells me she needs to be told what she doesn’t want to hear.

  “You hurt people. You hurt me. Why do you have to be so mean? I know there’s more to you. I’ve seen it.”

  She doesn’t answer right away, opting instead to stare at the drain. “The water’s hot,” she says, completely avoiding my question. “We should get cleaned up.”

  “You have blood on your legs too.” I point at the stylish holes in her skintight jeans while tossing her a towel, wishing I hadn’t shown her my vulnerable side. “Go ahead, I won’t look,” I say while closing the door behind me. “Let me know when you’re done.”

  “Noah, wait. Where are you going?”

  “To find us some new clothes,” I yell, clicking the door shut.

  “You’re leaving me?”

  I stand outside the door but say nothing. The truth is, I had to leave the room so she wouldn’t see me cry. Just talking about it brings back bad memories and if I remember how mean she’s been to me over the years, there’ll be no way I can look at her. I can’t believe I saved her. What the fuck was I thinking? This entire day has been a mistake. The amount of bad decisions I’ve made is embarrassing.

  Forget it, it’s too late. What’s done is done. I don’t want half the people on that bus any more than they want to be there but we’re stuck with one another now. We may need each other, but I don’t need to like it. We need clothes. I need to collect myself. I need to walk away.

  CHAPTER 20

  “Noah? Are you still there? Noah? If you’re listening, I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me alone. I’m scared.” It’s so hard to tell if she’s being sincere after fooling me with that sweet act more times than I’d like to admit. My dumb ass always wants to believe her.

  I take a deep breath, wipe the tears from my eyes, and step back into the bathroom. She’s sitting on the edge of the tub as the water fills up, trying to pull her pants off but they’re too tight now that they’re wet.

  “I’m sorry Noah. I’ll stop.”

  “You can’t stop. It’s who you are.”

  “No. It’s not.” She bites her lower lip for a second and exhales heavily. “I’m sorry. I really am. Would you mind helping me get these off? I’m stuck.”

  Before I have time to reply, she stops my world with her smile. Not the fake one she uses to get what she wants but the one that spreads across her flawless face when she doesn’t realize anyone is looking. For a brief moment she becomes the girl I’ve always known she was.

  I squat down in front of her to help but when my hands rub against those soft, smooth legs, I have to fight every urge not to continue rubbing them. I don’t want to be thinking this. I just want to get cleaned up, dressed, search the upstairs and get back to the bus where I can sit down and cuddle up with Caylee. I don’t want to be touching Felecia.

  “So,” she grunts as we peel her pants off, “you and Caylee?”

  “Look, if you’re just gonna be a bitch–”

  “I like her. You make a really cute couple. She’s pretty. Nice too. The type of girl I always pictured you with. Not that skank Michelle. It was kind of adorable this morning, watching you two flirt.”

  “I’m glad we could amuse you.”

  “Noah, I don’t mean it in a bad way. I’m just saying that, well, I’m happy for you. And I’m sorry you don’t get that date because of all this.” With one last tug, her expensive jeans finally come off and she smiles, sticking her feet in the hot water. “Thanks. And people think it’s easy to get into Felecia Harmon’s pants.”

  I laugh even though I try not to because I’m still angry. But I can’t help it. She smiles too, probably because she got me to laugh. How weird is that? I look away from her because it feels slightly awkward. My eyes stop on a shelf above the toilet cluttered with dog shampoos. Mopster, it’s only been a couple months.

  “If you have to pee, it’s okay, I won’t look or anything.”

  “What? Oh.” She must think I’m looking at the toilet. “No, I’m pretty sure I went in my pants back at the school. A couple times.”

  She bursts out laughing in a way that makes my heart melt because I actually made Felecia laugh. Not a little giggle but an all out laugh like I’ve never heard from her before.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. You’re just funny. And, I’m pretty sure I went in my pants too. I don’t think I’ll be wearing these any–” She stops mid-sentence, realizing what I’m looking at above the toilet.

  The end of eighth grade, my dog got sick and needed an expensive surgery Mom couldn’t afford. Dad always hated that overgrown ball of fur and said if it was his time, it was his time. My friends loved that hairy beast as much as I did so they helped me raise money. We had a whole ‘save Mopster’ campaign. Thousand dollars later and he didn’t have to be put down. A whole extra three years of belly rubs, ear scratches and munching on pig ears, probably pretending they’re the squirrels he could never catch.

  “Noah, I know you don’t like me, and I understand why. But can I tell you something?”

  I look at her as she rubs the soapy washcloth over her incredible body. If I weren’t thinking about my dead dog, I’d be seriously turned on right now. Nope, never mind, sorry Mopster, I am completely turned on. She stops at her knee and holds her side, clearly in pain. She’s probably got bruised ribs from slamming into the side of the building. I’m sure bouncing off my back as I ran didn’t help matters any.

  I take the washcloth and rub the bar of soap over it as she looks at me gratefully, a smile spreading from ear to ear. Her eyes close when I begin rubbing the back of her calf. Can this feel as amazing for her as it does for me? She leans her head against the wall and sighs softly while I scrub her legs, eventually moving down to her feet.

  “Remember when your dog needed that surgery? Well, I did something mean.”

  “I remember,” I say, not bothering to look at her. “You came over to our collection table, put in a dollar bill, winked and said you hoped that helped.” The washcloth splashes into the tub of warm, reddish water. “How could you do that? You knew how much I loved him.”

  “I know.” She stops for a second like it’s hard for her to continue. Is she crying? She is. She’s crying. “When I winked, I was hoping you knew.”

  “Felecia, you’re rich. You put in a fucking dollar!” I shake my head angrily while my hands tighten around her soapy foot, loosening my grip when I see her squirm, not actually wanting to hurt her. “You know what, it doesn’t matter. We raised the money. Just, drop it.”

  “Noah.”

  “I’m serious! Forget it. Don’t even say–” But I stop when I see the look on her face and finally get it. “It was you? Oh my god. It was you.”

  She nods a little and sniffles, then wipes her nose with her hand.

  “You didn’t put in a dollar,” I barely manage to squeak out. I beg them not to but the tears well up in my eyes anyway.

  “It was no big deal. My grandparents always send a few hundred dollars for my birthday. They never know what to get me.”

  “We thought one of the teachers did it.”

  “I folded the hundreds inside the one.”

  “Why?”

  She shrugs and wipes her nose again. I notice that I’m rubbing her feet now, mindlessly stroking and massaging them as they rest on my lap, dripping water everywhere.

  “I guess I felt bad about the whole dance thing. I know how much he meant to you. And I hid the money behind the one because I’m Felecia Harmon. I’m a bitch. And I wouldn’t do something that nice. When you emptied the box, I was hoping you’d know it was me. I had this whole scenario planned out in my head.”

&nb
sp; “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. I thought you winked at me to be mean.”

  “I would never intentionally hurt you Noah.”

  “Um, does this morning ring a bell? Hitting me with the door, making fun of me for finally getting a date with Caylee?”

  “Yeah, sorry. I wanted to apologize, but, would it have mattered? And then, with Caylee,” she whispers, avoiding eye contact at all costs, “I was just jealous.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Come on, we gotta get you cleaned up too. I have to admit, your hands feel amazing. You should consider massaging feet for a career. I’d pay for this.”

  “Hold on,” I smile, sniffling away the last of my tears. “Are you suggesting I become a foot prostitute?”

  “Yeah, I guess I am, as long as I can get an appointment whenever I want.”

  “Anytime. I’ll clear the books for you.” I give her foot one last rub and a light squeeze before plunking them both back in the water. “I can never thank you enough for what you did.”

  “You already have.” She smiles and stands up on the gushy rug. “You should shower. You know, with all the blood you got on you. I’ll find something to use as a weapon and guard the door.”

  “You’re probably right. Felecia, I really appreciate it.”

  “I know you do. I can scrub your back or whatever when you’re ready.”

  “Thanks.” I begin to drop my pants but think better of it when I realize that scrubbing her legs and feet might have me standing at attention. “Um, I guess I’ll wait until you leave the room.”

  “It’s okay,” she blushes, wrapping a towel around herself and stepping over to the door. “You made me horny too.” Her breathy giggle fades away as the door closes.

  I’m not sure if she’s still there but I ask anyway, turning on the shower and taking off my clothes. “Felecia, why did you ask me to the dance only to laugh at me?”

  There’s no response but I hear her walk down the hall a couple seconds later. She heard my question. I just can’t help but feel like I don’t know her as well as I thought. She gave me five hundred dollars for Mopster’s surgery. That was only a couple weeks after she laughed at me for thinking we were actually going to the dance together. It was the worst month of my life.