The decorations in the gym make it look like a tropical island. I’m in the tuxedo Mom helped me pick out, she was almost as excited as me about my first date. Felecia’s in a strapless blue and green dress that makes her look like a mermaid. Her wavy blonde hair rests over her bare shoulders. We take the floor as some romantic song plays but it doesn’t matter what it is or who it’s by. I hold her body close to mine and we sway to the music, gently kicking away the balloons that get in our way. She tilts her head up, misty green eyes looking into mine, then she whispers “thank you”. I pull her a little closer. A soft sigh escapes her heavenly lips as I say, “there’s nowhere else I’d rather be”. She holds me tighter.
CHAPTER 12
It’s an honor to have her crying into my shoulder, her fingers wrapping themselves up in the back of my shirt as she holds onto me for dear life. I have a feeling I could be anybody in the world right now and she’d be equally as grateful. It doesn’t have anything to do with me and I can’t delude myself into believing that. I’m not even sure I want her to treat me any differently than she ever has, it would only confuse me. She’s never been anything but downright cruel. I almost regret helping her. How could I have ever liked her?
I stifle a laugh and get ready to tell her she just sealed her fate but her hand slides up my back and runs through my hair just as I open my mouth. She’s so scared. I can’t do it. I want to make her suffer the way she did to me before the dance. I cried all night. Mom did too. She was so happy for me she just had to take me out immediately and buy me a tux. It was one of the best days of my life. I should have known, I blame myself. If something seems too good to be true, it is. Felecia Harmon gave me the best day of my life. And then the worst. To her, it was just another Thursday.
Her tears are warm against my neck. I pull her trembling body closer to mine in an attempt to let her know everything will be alright. I hope she doesn’t know I’m lying. I shouldn’t care but I do. In a matter of time she’s going to turn into a mindless, flesh craving zombie, and if by some miracle I haven’t turned yet, I’ll have to kill her. I don’t have the heart to tell her that. I wouldn’t wish such a fate upon anybody, even her. With any luck, Norwood will find us and do the honors.
The approaching footsteps make it easier to push Felecia off me. She’s almost holding on too tightly but I break her grip and turn towards the door. Shaun Mayer is running at me, only it’s not really him. Part of his neck is missing. His left arm has mostly been chewed off, leaving sections of gnawed bone visible. He’s holding onto that knife like a leftover memory is telling him to keep it. By the way blood blankets the blade, I figure he must have tried fighting them off.
He runs straight towards us. It takes all my strength not to push Felecia in front and save myself, but I can’t do it. It’s her he wants. Her blood must smell more human than mine, but I push her out of the way, throwing myself in the direct path of his blood coated blade.
Fuck it. I’m dead anyway.
It digs into my shoulder.
A sharp pain stings my every nerve. It’s more than being stabbed. I can’t explain it but this is different.
A breathless scream emanates from somewhere deep within me but doesn’t materialize.
A voice cries out. I can only assume it’s mine but I don’t remember screaming, it hurts too much. I don’t stop him when he thrusts his mouth at my neck. Does it really matter anymore?
The anticipation of his teeth digging into me may actually be worse than the wound itself.
I wait, but he doesn’t bite. Maybe he slipped on blood, or in the puddle of water that pooled up on the floor as I held Felecia. Either way, he falls backwards before his teeth get the chance to penetrate my flesh. I try to capitalize on the freak accident that may give me a few more minutes of life but the pain in my shoulder is numbing my entire body. I’m shaking. I feel cold but I’m not. I’m hot. Like super hot. I need a drink. All I can do is watch what was once Shaun Mayer fall to the floor as I lay here convulsing.
Felecia’s standing in front of me, her makeup smudged down her perfect face. Then it hits me, Shaun didn’t fall, Felecia knocked him down. She must have kicked out the backs of his legs or pulled the collar of his shirt. When I don’t grab the hand she’s holding out to me, she takes mine and tries pulling me out of the room. I can feel my heartbeat pounding from the blade in my shoulder, sending tremors through my body. That’s what’s making me shake.
We only make it a step or two before she slams on the brakes. I’m simply being dragged along as everything spins around me but I can make out another member of the undead brigade running into the room. Felecia’s standing in front of me, he’ll get her first. No, I can’t let him get her first.
I tug back and pull her towards me. With my free hand I rip the switchblade from my shoulder. My foot slams down hard as I lunge in front of Felecia, rotate my tightly closed fist and hold the knife out in front of me. He rams into it, neck first, although it’s not sharp enough to cut all the way through.
It’ll take both hands to hold this fucker back so it’s okay that Felecia’s no longer touching me. Never mind, it’s not okay, I liked her hand there. The knife in his throat is stopping him from biting and the harder he pushes forward, the more it digs in. Only, it can’t cut any deeper, it’s caught on his windpipe. I can’t saw through it. It’s too thick. I need Norwood’s… Thing, that weapon. His… I don’t remember what it’s called. A saw. Some kind of saw.
“Noah, duck!”
It takes me a second to register but I bend my knees before dropping all the way down, losing the knife in his neck. I can’t believe she’s helping me. Felecia. I’d half expect her to smirk if I was on fire. Come to think of it, I wouldn’t have thought she’d help me after Shaun stabbed me in the shoulder either. Right? Yeah, Shaun stabbed me. Felecia helped me. Maybe this horrible situation is bringing out the best in people, even her. What the hell is his last name?
As soon as my head is out of the way, a wind sweeps over me. Where’d it come from? What happened? One of the science stools slams into the kid’s face. Only, he’s not a kid. Over the savage snapping of his neck I can hear Felecia scream, half out of disgust, half in pure fear. Okay, she hit him with it. Why can’t I, focus? Seeing his head dangling there by a flap of skin leaves her in a state of shock. God I need a drink. She doesn’t even notice Shaun coming up behind her. She doesn’t see him. Shit. She saved my life, or, what little is left of it.
I have to return the situation. That’s not right. I don’t want that word. My throat is so dry. She lets go of the stool without a fight and I jam the legs into Shaun’s torso. I think it pierced his stomach. There’s blood. I think. I’m not sure. It keeps him a few feet away, arms flailing about, still trying to grab us. I push him back with the stool and keep pushing until we get to the window. He has no clue what I’m doing until he goes toppling over backwards.
The second his body smacks the concrete below, I drop to the floor, too weak to stand. Everything’s fuzzy, every sensation so much stronger than usual. My heart’s pounding like a war drum. Its vibrations send an overexaggerated pulse through every inch of my body. I can hear myself swallow, feel it travel down every inch of my throat.
I’m thirsty.
The incision in my shoulder is killing me, I need to wash it off. What am I saying? No I don’t. I’m dying.
I’m infected. What does it matter if my cut gets infected as well. I really wish it would stop burning.
Man am I thirsty. My eyes fixate on a couple beakers of water on the lab counter. They’re so close yet so far. Breathing’s becoming harder. I don’t know if this is the zombie blood finally taking over or if it’s from the stab wound. Maybe both. I feel like I could pass out any second.
I know the next time I close my eyes will be the last.
I look from the beakers of water to Felecia. I think she notices. She’s so worried. God, she really is beautiful. Why couldn’t she be nicer? Why’d she have to break my heart? I ha
te her. I must be delirious because I want her to hold me in her arms while I die. I want to kiss her, just once, see if all the heartache was worth it. Maybe it doesn’t matter who it is, I just want someone here with me. I’m scared. And thirsty, so thirsty.
She must hear my thoughts, unless, have I been thinking out loud? I sure hope I wasn’t, I don’t want her to know how much I hate her. Or how much she hurt me. I would like her to know how thirsty I am though. Those beakers are looking pretty enticing right about now, if only I could reach.
Why’s she walking towards me? She looks so sad. Does she know I’m dying? Does she know she’s dying? My eyes just want to close. So heavy.
I can’t turn right now. Not now. I’ll attack her. Okay so maybe I’d kinda like that. Boy do I hope Zombie Noah bites her boobs rather than her neck. Although her neck looks tasty too. I don’t know if I mean that as a human or a zombie.
She grabs a beaker of water and rushes over to me. Oh no, not that one. I try to tell her to stop. She has the salt water. But I’m too weak. Too tired. She needs to run. I’m going to kill her.
The sudden shot of pain forces my eyes to burst open as she splashes water onto my shoulder. In eighth grade, she cut me so deeply that even three years later she can still pour salt in the wound. It stings like hell and I want to scream but don’t have a chance, she’s already pouring more onto me. She must not realize she has saltwater. Why couldn’t it have been the tap, or distilled? I’m so desperate to drink that I actually hope she’ll splash some of it into my mouth.
She kneels down behind me and rests my back against her legs. My head leans onto her chest. I can feel her heart racing. Wow, her boobs make perfect pillows. They’re real, I’m pretty sure. I don’t know who said they weren’t but they are. She holds me still and pours more water onto the incision. She must lift my shirt because her hands are on my skin, splashing saltwater around the cut.
Dear god, my shoulder’s on fire. I swear I see smoke rising from it, but the touch of her hand makes it not so bad. Her long, soft fingers wipe the blood away. It almost feels good. This isn’t a bad way to die.
I can’t fight it anymore.
My eyes close.
CHAPTER 13
Her heart’s pounding. I bet this is the first time anyone has ever died in her arms. Something wet hits my lip. Salty. She must be pouring the water into my mouth, not realizing it’s saltwater. Another drop hits my upper lip. And another. It’s not the water. She’s crying. Her tears are falling on me. Somehow I manage to swallow. I must not be dead yet. Or maybe I am. That did feel an awful lot like the way a zombie would swallow.
I can feel her body shake behind me. She’s sobbing and rubbing my forehead gently with one hand, my bloody shoulder with the other. I barely notice the pain anymore. She’s wiping the blood away with the bottom of her shirt and dabbing water into my cut. It should hurt like hell, but zombies don’t feel pain. I can’t open my eyes because I know what I am. Maybe if I fake being dead she’ll leave before I kill her. I know I’m supposed to hate her but I just died in her arms. I can’t in good conscience start digging into her flesh with my teeth, no matter how badly I want to.
My eyes open slowly.
Felecia smiles.
“Thank god Noah.” She sounds relieved. “I thought you were dead hun.”
I am dead you idiot. I’m gonna kill you. Don’t smile at me. I’m about to take a bite out of your perfectly flawless skin. In fact that spot on your neck looks… beautiful. Can zombies think things are beautiful? Because wow, I don’t so much want to bite it as I do kiss it. I think I’m licking my lips.
I go in for the kill.
She lowers her head towards me. Is she letting me bite her? Our foreheads touch. I can still feel her tears running down my face. Her wet hair falls around me. Why am I not biting her? For the first time since this all started, I’m not repulsed by what I smell. The scent of Felecia’s hair makes me feel human again, it blocks out the hell that has fallen over this place.
Her breathing comes in sharp spurts. I can feel them blow against my hair.
“It’s okay,” she whispers without lifting her forehead from mine. “You’re okay.”
What is she talking about?
“Don’t worry, I’ll stay right here until you’re ready to get up. Just don’t take too long. The smell in here makes me wanna puke.”
“Bad news. It’s worse out there.” Wait, I just said that. The dead things don’t speak.
She laughs a little and kisses me on my hairline where her lips linger for a few seconds too many. She wouldn’t still be here if I was a zombie. I wouldn’t be talking. I probably wouldn’t be able to feel. Yet her touch sends a small chill up my spine when she lowers my shirt, the backs of her fingers brushing against my chest and stomach. I feel, alive.
“I don’t understand.” My voice is hoarse at first. “Why haven’t I turned into one of them? I’m infected.”
“No you’re not sweetie. It doesn’t take long to turn. You’d be gone by now.” Her voice sounds sweeter than I can ever remember. No, that’s not quite true, it sounds as sweet as it did the day she asked me out. “I watched through the window. It only takes a minute. You’re not infected Noah. You were stabbed. I think I stopped the bleeding. The water seemed to help.”
“Thank you.” I decide not to tell her that she used saltwater, she looks proud that she was able to help. I don’t want to take that glimmering smile away.
“Don’t mention it. Now we’re even. Can we please get the hell out of here?” She sounds almost like her normal bitchy self, the only difference is, she’s smiling.
“Yeah. Give me a second to get up.”
She nods and leans back to give me space. I have to admit I’m a little shocked that she not only saved me but comforted me when I needed it. Even now, she’s not rushing me, she’s helping me to my feet. In my heart, I wish it was Caylee, not the girl I’ve detested for years now. Misery loves company and while we’re stuck here, any company is better than none.
I get to my feet slowly, Felecia’s hands never leaving me. The cut burns but not nearly as much as it should. Maybe it’s a good thing she used saltwater, it seems to have helped. I still can’t believe she would ruin her shirt just to stop my bleeding. And I was sure the blood on the knife was zombie blood. It was, it had to be. But it couldn’t. It must have been from Mr. Vasquez. Otherwise, Felecia’s right, I would have turned by now. I swear to god I was turning. Right? The thirst is gone.
I grab another Bunsen burner off the same cart I originally charged in here for and light it. Felecia follows my lead without question, even though I didn’t tell her to. The fear in her eyes doesn’t surprise me but there’s something else in them that does. I can’t quite put my finger on it and she looks away before I can read what they’re trying to tell me.
I’m alive. Somehow, I’m still alive.
Everything’s changed, I’m not infected. I just saved a ton of people thinking I was going to die any second, but I wasn’t. I still don’t get it. Am I immune? What in the hell happened?
A few people are running down the hall and I can’t be sure if they’re human or not. We have to be ready. My can of disinfectant kind of exploded outside the window so I scan the room in hopes of finding another one. So far, it’s not looking good. I don’t know what the chemicals on the trays are and I don’t exactly want to lose a limb in an explosion, or take the chance that they’re not even flammable and get myself eaten alive.
“Felecia, we need something to light them on fire. Do you have perfume or anything?”
“Yeah, but it’s Chanel No. 5, do you know how expensive that stuff is?”
“I’m sure it’ll smell great on you once you’re dead.”
“Fine,” she huffs and storms across the room. “And btw, you’re buying me a new shirt. I just bought that on Saturday and you got blood all over it.” There’s the Felecia I’m used to.
“Yeah, well,” I say holding my bloody fingers up to h
er face, “your perfectly manicured fingernails dug into me while I was busy pulling you up from the window. Consider us even.”
Her facial expression changes drastically when she sees the dried blood on the inside of my hand. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Does it hurt? I didn’t mean to cut you.”
“It’s okay,” I say, more than a little surprised by her concern. “You’re safe, that’s what matters. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about your shirt.”
“I wasn’t really gonna make you buy me a new one, it was already ruined.” She points to a few tears where I can only assume her former classmates grabbed at her, hoping for a meal. “It is cute though, isn’t it?”
“Are you really asking for fashion advice in the middle of a zombie apocalypse? Yes, it looks good on you. What doesn’t look good on you?”
She seems… flattered. “Here.” She smiles and hands me the bottle of pricey perfume.
I can tell by the look on her face that she knows what I’m about to say. She shakes her head, her eyes never leaving mine. I don’t need to hear the words out loud to know what she’s saying, she can’t bring herself to light them on fire. I didn’t think I could either but when death was inevitable, I guess I adopted a new set of morals, or maybe just got rid of my old ones. I can’t force her to follow in my footsteps, she’s already seen things that no one should be forced to witness. The low hum of our flames, both of them, let me know that if the time comes, she’ll do what needs to be done.
Everything feels so different now that I know I’m not going to drop dead any second. It’s like I’ve gone from watching a horror movie to living one. It all feels so much more urgent, the desire to run through the school and save everyone I possibly can is gone. I’m not sure if that makes me a bad person but all I want to do is get out of here and hope Marty’s bus isn’t gone, even though I heard them drive off the second Tyrone and Darius got on.
Blood Type Infected (Book 1): No Future For Man Page 8