Alive?

by Melissa Woods

  “How did it start?” she asked.

  Matt shook his head. “I don’t know. One minute it was fine, and the next it was up. I didn’t see anything.”

  “Could it be the dead? Maybe they knocked something over?”

  “Maybe, but what? There’s no power anymore.”

  He was right. The more likely explanation was that it was people, living people, but why? To burn any biters in the house? For fun?

  “You’re shivering. You should go back to bed,” Matt said, looking at Violet with concern.

  “I’m fine. I can’t sleep.”

  “Bad dreams again?”

  That caught Violet a little off-guard. “Again?”

  “Sometimes you make sounds in your sleep.”

  “What kind of sounds?”

  “Just…sounds. Like you’re afraid. I thought it was nightmares.”

  Violet nodded. “It is.”

  “I get them, too.”

  Not like this.

  Matt got to his feet, offering her his place by the window. It was a comfortable spot with cushions propped against the side of the wall. Violet shook her head, sitting down on the other side of the ledge instead. But Matt wouldn’t let her off that easily. He went to get a blanket, draping it carefully over her shoulders. Violet froze. She didn’t like people to get this close, not anymore. She was terrified she’d lose control and do something. Matt’s neck was just inches from her face as he placed the blanket. She knew she could bite him right then—tear out his throat before he could even scream.

  Who thinks like that?

  Violet swallowed the heavy lump in her throat. Matt moved back, his eyes meeting hers, and smiled. Something about the light flickering on his face made him look different. Softer. Almost like he wasn’t real, like something from a dream.

  “Thanks,” she muttered.

  He took his seat once more.

  I could’ve killed him right there.

  Or kissed him.

  Not quite as bad, but still a terrible idea.

  At least I know where I stand with killing him. Kissing him would make things a million times more stressful.

  Good logic there, Vi.

  “Violet, wake up.”

  Violet blinked. Slowly, the room around her came into focus. She was still sitting up at the window beside Matt, but his face wasn’t soft and dream-like anymore. It was etched with worry. He pointed outside. Dawn was breaking. The fire outside was dying down, but Violet followed Matt’s gaze, her eyes widening. There was a large 4x4 parked outside the school. Five men were climbing out. She watched as they ran for the gates, rattling them frantically. She didn’t have to be any closer to recognize that fear, that panic—they were being chased.

  Without waiting another second, she dropped her blanket and sprinted for the door, grabbing the keys to the gate on the way. She heard Matt waking the others behind her.

  Soon, she was outside, forgetting about her bare feet as they slapped against the cold, hard ground. One of the men saw her approach and called out.

  “Hey, please let us in!”

  “I’m coming,” Violet called back, quickening her pace. She arrived at the gates, frantically searching for the right key in the dawn light.

  “Hurry,” another one pleaded, looking behind him. Violet managed to unlock the padlock, but struggled to untangle the chain. Luckily, Matt, Sam, and Emily weren’t far behind her. In no time, the chain was ripped off and the gates swung open. The men hurried inside. Matt quickly secured the chain back in place and snapped on the lock, just as they heard the telltale sound of pounding feet on tarmac.

  “Inside,” Sam ordered, leading them back into the school.

  “They were right behind us,” one of the men said once they were indoors. He was the tallest, with red hair and a sharp nose. His physique was strong, and made even Sam look like a little boy. “Thank you,” he continued, introducing himself as John.

  The second man, shorter but almost as muscular, was Edd. The third, Vince, was of a similar build with curly brown hair. The three of them appeared to be in their thirties, but the last two were probably about Violet’s age. One had little muscle to speak of, dark skin, and anxious eyes. He introduced himself as Zack, and then said nothing else. The last was Daniel. He was similar to Tom in stature and appearance, though his hair was darker and reached his shoulders. By this point Maggie, Joe, and Tom had arrived, and everyone took a few minutes to introduce themselves to the newest members of the group.

  “Thanks again,” John said. “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t let us in.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Violet replied. She caught sight of the one called Edd staring at her, and was suddenly aware of how very underdressed she was. She crossed her arms across her chest self-consciously, wishing again that the shorts weren’t so short. Matt seemed to sense her discomfort. When Edd took a step closer, Matt casually stepped out to intercept.

  “How long have you been here?” Edd asked, addressing his question to Matt, as if that had been his intention all along.

  “A few weeks,” Matt said vaguely.

  “So you’ve got food and stuff?” John asked.

  “We went for supplies a week ago,” Sam answered.

  “Do you think we could get something to eat?”

  “Of course.” Sam gestured toward the cafeteria. Violet took the opportunity to go upstairs and change, deciding that having a little less skin on show would be more appropriate now that there were strangers in her home.

  Everyone ate together in the cafeteria, something that usually never happened. With the increased numbers, however, it just seemed more practical than taking their food upstairs. Violet sat at the end of the table, watching the others talking. She tried her best to eat as much as the rest of the group, but eating somehow didn’t feel right. It had nothing do with her nonexistent taste buds; something felt strange.

  No one seemed to notice her hesitation. Everyone was laughing and joking, and all seemed to be getting on really well. This was the biggest the group had ever been, and Violet knew it should make her feel safer than before. She knew it should, but it didn’t. She had no idea why, but that feeling of anxiety sat in her stomach like a rock. Everyone else had welcomed the newcomers with open arms. Joe and Sam were laughing loudly with John and Daniel, and Tom was talking with Edd.

  Poor Edd.

  Maggie and Emily were deep in conversation with Zack, and Matt was smiling at something Vince had just said.

  Or was he? In one split second, Matt caught Violet’s eye and gave her a look. She didn’t know what it meant exactly, but it almost seemed like he was trying to say, I know, I feel it, too. But then he turned back and continued his conversation, and Violet wondered if she had just imagined it.

  “So where do we sleep then?” Edd asked, bringing her focus back to the room. Sam seemed as though he was about to speak, but Violet cut in before he could.

  “The library. We’re a little bit crowded upstairs, but there’s space down there. There are comfortable couches and lots of books if you can’t sleep.”

  Sam caught her eye. They both knew there was plenty of room upstairs, but he didn’t call her out on it. Maybe he felt something weird, too. Or perhaps he just didn’t want to make a big deal out of her lie in front of the newcomers.

  “Sounds good,” John said. “Do you mind if we go there now? After what we went through last night, I think we could all do with a rest.”

  Violet nodded, eager for a break. The feeling in her stomach was stronger than ever, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was.

  “Done. Now I’ll just wrap this up. We don’t want it to get infected.”

  “Something doesn’t feel right. I feel sick.”

  “Put your head between your legs. You’re probably just in shock. I think we all are.”

  “Were you bitten, too? Your arm—”

  “Don’t worry, it’s just a scratch.”

  “It’s bleedin
g.”

  “I caught it on the door when I ran in. Could you pass me that towel? I’ll try to clean myself up.”

  “It looks deep.”

  “I think it might be.”

  Something in the air. Something new.

  “What are you doing? Get off me! Help!”

  Violet woke up choking, barely able to breathe. Sweat poured down her face, and her T-shirt clung to her damp skin. She swept her hair out of her eyes, looking around the room. Everyone else was asleep. Their day had been long: meeting the men, getting to know them, showing them around, finding them new clothes and blankets, talking about how things worked at the school. They were all exhausted by the time they went to bed.

  Yet here she was, waking up at dawn from another nightmare. Except now she knew it wasn’t a nightmare. It was a memory. A memory of what she did. Violet got to her feet. She couldn’t think straight. She needed to know what happened, to know what she did. The man in the store had been an accident; she’d been trying to stop him from causing her death, and had ended up causing his. But what happened to the man in the house? She had to know if she killed him, too.

  Silently, she threw on some clothes, and left the teachers’ lounge. She held the keys to the gate tightly in her hand. If everything went to plan, she should be out and back again before the others woke up. And if she wasn’t, at least they’d be locked in and safe.

  It was a cold morning, and the chain felt like ice beneath her fingers. She unlocked it quickly, stepped outside, and then secured the gates once more, slipping the keys into her pocket. She wouldn’t take the car. It would be too noisy, and she couldn’t risk drawing the dead to her. Besides, if something went wrong, she didn’t want to leave the others without a vehicle.

  Violet took a breath and headed off in the direction of the house, along the path she had traveled what felt like a lifetime ago.

  She had been walking for about twenty minutes, and hadn’t encountered any biters. In fact, there had been no movement at all on the empty streets.

  Until now.

  Violet could see something up ahead, moving quickly along the road. It wasn’t the dead though; it was people on bicycles! They were too far away to see her, and she knew she couldn’t risk shouting for fear of drawing the attention of any nearby biters. Still, she couldn’t let them just disappear. She wanted to see them. She needed to see them to prove to herself there were still others alive. There were so many, at least ten. Violet broke into a run, trying to catch up. She reached the corner just in time to see them disappearing into the woods.

  They’re kids. She was sure of it now. Her lips curled into a smile. There were still kids alive. Children out there in that nightmare, riding around on bicycles. She wanted to laugh at the pure absurdity of it. Part of her wanted to catch up to them, but she couldn’t. She had other things to do. The spot where the kids had disappeared was where she’d stepped out of the woods, and over on the other side of the road was the first house she’d run into. Violet made her way toward it. She needed answers, and her racing heart and sweaty palms weren’t going to stop her from getting them.

  The front door was open, and she stealthily stepped inside. She had forgotten her baseball bat in her haste to leave the school, so grabbed a knife from the kitchen. The house was silent, but still she moved slowly, alert for any signs of movement. She could hear her own heart beating.

  Violet went into to the living room. There was no sign of the woman who bit her, but there had definitely been a struggle. The glass coffee table was smashed, as though something heavy had been dropped onto it. Pictures had fallen from the fireplace, and couch cushions were on the floor. There was a brown stain on the carpet next to a broken mug. Violet tried to remember if the room had been like this when she arrived, but she’d not had much time to explore before being bitten and chased. She turned to leave, noticing another stain on the carpet. This one looked like blood.

  It throws itself onto the man. He fights with it, throwing it down onto the coffee table, but it gets up and chases him from the room.

  Her heart was racing. Where had that come from?

  Was that me? Did I do that?

  Nothing made sense. She needed to go upstairs, to the last place she remembered.

  The stairs creaked beneath her feet, but Violet was less concerned now about the noise. There was no one here. The bathroom door was open. There was more blood. Handprints were on the wood of the door, dried streaks staining the white surface. She stepped into the small room. There was a first aid box on the floor, along with even more blood. More than her bite wound would’ve caused.

  She sat down on the mat, in the spot she had been in when she fell into the room. Taking another breath, she closed her eyes, willing the memories to come back. Eventually, they did. She soon wished they hadn’t.

  He finished stitching up her arm. It hurt, but she knew it had to be done. The man spoke quietly, even though they were sure the thing had gone. It hadn’t pounded on the door for a long time.

  “Done. Now I’ll just wrap this up. We don’t want it to get infected.”

  Violet’s head was spinning. “Something doesn’t feel right. I feel sick.”

  There was concern in his brown eyes. “Put your head between your legs. You’re probably just in shock. I think we all are.”

  She was about to do what he said when she noticed he had his own wound. His right arm was bleeding. “Were you bitten, too? Your arm—”

  “Don’t worry. It’s just a scratch.”

  “It’s bleeding.”

  He examined it. “I caught it on the door when I ran in. Could you pass me that towel? I’ll try to clean myself up.”

  She nodded, reaching behind her for one of the pink towels. For some reason, she couldn’t take her eyes away from his wound. “It looks deep.”

  “I think it might be.” He squeezed his arm slightly, causing more blood to seep out.

  Something in the air. Something new. A smell. Violet felt something, something she’d never felt before. The man was staring at her, a worried expression on his face. He touched her forehead.

  “Let me get something on here. You’re burning up.” He reached for another towel, his arm inches from her face.

  It was too much. Violet didn’t know what was happening, but her mouth latched on to his skin.

  “What are you doing?”

  The blood hit her tongue, and she felt fantastic. It was like she could feel every millimeter of her body getting stronger, and she needed more.

  “Get off me!” He fought against her, but she was stronger now. She needed to taste. Needed to bite.

  “Help!”

  It bit.

  He pushed it off. Opened the door and ran. It chased. On the stairs, it almost caught him, but he pushed it back. It hit its head and could taste its own blood.

  It followed him downstairs and jumped. He fought with it, throwing it onto the coffee table, but it got up and chased him out of the room.

  He ran to a new house, and it followed. There were other its in there, too, but they were busy. He ran into a bedroom and through another door, slamming it shut. It hit the door over and over and over until its hands were bruised. But then things began to change.

  She was falling. Then she hit the floor. She felt weak. Everything slowed down. Turned black.

  As the memories faded away, Violet found herself on her feet in the bathroom. It was true. She had bitten him. He had tried to save her, and the infection in her blood or whatever else it was, came to life and tried to kill the first person who had tried to help.

  She left the room. She was disgusted with herself. Hated herself. But she needed to know. She had to find out what happened to him after that.

  She went back into the house where she had woken up and headed upstairs. To her right was the bedroom with the flowery wallpaper. She stepped inside, heading for the closed door from her memory. It looked like a walk-in closet. She paused, her hand on the doorknob. Violet knew what she was a
bout to find, but she had to see it. It was her fault, and she needed to finish it.

  She swung open the door. There he was—dead, just like the others. He spun around, hissing angrily at the sight of her.

  “I’m sorry,” she breathed.

  He ran toward her, but Violet was faster. She stepped to the side, and then plunged the knife into the back of his head. He dropped to the floor, twitching for only a moment. His blood squirted onto her shirt, but she barely noticed. When he was still, Violet screamed. She couldn’t hold it in, and it escaped even though she didn’t want it to. It wasn’t a scream of fear—it was anger. Anger at what she had done, at the hideous thing she had become.

  What am I?

  Violet pulled the knife out of his head. She turned it over in her hands, terrible thoughts running through her mind. She could do it, end it right there. Her friends would be safer without her around; she knew that. If she did it, she wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone else.

  “Violet?”

  It was Matt’s voice. It sounded like he was coming up the stairs. Violet got up and hurried to the doorway just in time to see him arrive on the landing. Relief covered his face at the sight of her, but it faded.

  “Is that blood on your shirt?”

  Violet looked down. “No?”

  Matt’s brows knitted together. “Right. Okay. I’ll be honest, I’d be more reassured if I didn’t feel like there was a question mark at the end of your answer.”

  Violet sighed, heading back into the room. Matt followed, frowning at the body on the floor.

  “What are you doing here?” Violet asked, before he could ask her the same thing.

  “I heard you scream.” His eyes swept from the dead man to Violet, and back again. She still held the knife tightly in her hands.

  “You followed me?”

  He nodded. “I saw you opening the gates. I was worried, so I climbed over the wall. I lost sight of you, but I was just outside when I heard you screaming. What happened?” He swung his eyes back to the man on the floor again. “Did it attack you?”