“I'll be waiting outside.” he said, picking up his bat beside the door.
“Stacey?” I snapped my fingers in front of her face, she didn't react.
“Wait here, I'll get your bag.”
I walked back into the front room shining the flashlight around, it was still dark as no one had
bothered to move anything away from the windows and the dark skies outside weren't helping.
Most of her stuff was still in her bag, and I found her jacket hanging over the banister, and my bat
on the floor.
I tried to hand her hoodie to her, but she wouldn't take it, and, in the end, I had to physically dress
her myself, then I lifted her bag over her head, and positioned it across her chest comfortably. She
continued to stare over my head. It was starting to freak me out.
I quickly searched the house for an umbrella, but, unfortunately, didn't find one. I grabbed her
sleeve and pulled her across the kitchen and out through the back door. Lane was waiting, leaning
against the wall. We started walking and I let go of Stacey, hoping I wouldn't have to pull her along
the whole way back. After a few steps, she started to follow us on her own. I pulled my hood up and
trudged after Lane. When we reached the corner, I looked back down the street, it was the last time I
would see suburbia, I didn't plan on coming back....
ever
. We had everything we needed delivered to
us at the prison, there was no need for unnecessary trips anymore. I'm sure Lane and Stacey would
agree with me.
We walked down a street I recognized from yesterday and followed the signs, making our way back
to the main road, and out of town. We didn't see a single zombie, every house we passed, every
store, every abandoned vehicle, I was looking through windows, wondering where all the zombies
had disappeared to. Not that I ever wanted to find out. Over an hour and a half later, the prison
finally came into view, a tiny spot in the distance. The rain had stopped and the sun was out again.
Lane had walked ahead and left us trailing behind. He looked back at me every so often, but I was
moving at a snails pace waiting for Stacey.
She had been twenty feet behind me for most of the journey. I stopped at the side of the road and
waited for her to catch up. Her feet scuffed along the ground and she wiped her nose with her
sleeve, still holding my gun in her other hand. I hadn't taken it from her, I figured she needed it
more than I did at the moment.
As she approached I could see her eyes welling up again, which soon crescendoed into full on
sobbing. She collapsed onto the road, then placed the gun on the ground and sobbed into her hands.
Lane stopped to see what the hold up was, then he sat down at the side of the road and pulled out
his cigarettes. I let out a sigh and looked up at the sky, I didn't really know what to say to make this
any better. Jasper was dead, gone, there was no way of fixing that, and I didn't think anything I said
to Stacey would help. She needed to grieve in her own way to get over him. I just wished she could
wait until we got back. I left her alone and moved away a few steps, giving her space, and because
her constant blubbering was starting to annoy me. God, I sounded like a real bitch.
I pulled the gauze down, inspecting one of my hands. Then my back started to itch. I rubbed at the
spot on my hoodie. It felt sore, maybe a piece of glass had found its way into my back, I had been
so distracted with outrunning zombies, digging graves, and trying to stay alive I hadn't noticed it
was hurting before.
I lifted the hem of my hoodie and tried to see over my shoulder. Stacey had stopped snivelling and
was watching me. I spun around trying to see the spot, but my bulky hoodie was in the way.
“What's wrong?” Stacey asked, sniffing.
“I don't know, I think I got glass in my back.”
I heard the sound of an approaching motorcycle in the distance, but was too distracted trying to get
a look at my back, I briefly glanced in the direction of the bike.
Maybe someone from the prison.
I could probably guess who it was.
I dumped my bag on the ground and felt around my back with my fingers.
Shit.
I could feel little indents.
Teeth
indents.
I pulled off my hoodie, flung it aside, and lifted up my T-shirt, straining my neck around to see. A
crescent shape of teeth marks was visible. I had been bitten. I let out a gasp, and my whole world
came crashing down around me. Stacey was watching me with wide eyes. I slumped to the ground
and hung my head between my legs sucking in air. I heard Stacey scuffling around on the ground,
scrambling to her feet. She was probably planning on running away from me, back to the prison. I
lifted my head and looked back at Lane. He was back on his feet, heading our way. His pace
quickened and he soon started running toward us. I blinked away a tear and turned my head back to
Stacey. She stood facing me, her eyes locked onto mine.
Oh, crap!
She held out a shaky arm, aiming a gun at me,
my
gun, my very loaded gun.
This was it... the end of the road.
I couldn't blame her, though, it was exactly what I would have done.
Game Over!