The injury was worse.
Ellen felt better.
As blue seeped up her arm, she felt strong.
Jack was struggling against it.
He had tried a tourniquet, talked about cutting off his arm. Now he rocked in the corner.
The undead were shambling around. Their prey had escaped.
Ellen and Jack were turning, but still human. Go out now and they’d be eaten.
Ellen wanted to be complete. Didn’t want to be one of the legless who dragged themselves along the ground, late to every meal. She wanted to prey.
Her arm felt hot and itchy. The bite stung. Her mouth was bitter.
It should have been a simple mission.
Their hide-away was around the corner, a mile down the road.
They’d holed up at a rundown gas station. The previous owner had been security conscious. There were metal shutters, a hidden cellar, and plenty of canned food and shotguns.
Ellen reckoned they had taken him in the sudden storm of infection that had destroyed the world overnight. (His rifle behind the counter. A mess of blood around it. He’d shot. And missed.)
He’d been scratching at the door when they’d arrived. They’d let him out and been holed up since. Three months.
Ellen wanted to get out of the place more than she wanted to scout for fresh supplies. Had talked at Jack until he’d been convinced (Wasn’t any less fair than him talking at her for three months. He’d lost his nerve, couldn’t bear for her to leave even to go to the toilet.) He wouldn’t be scared much longer.
In the dark of their shelter, the back of a van free of the undead, she could see his arm throbbing.
The veins pushing to the surface.
It looked painful.
It felt painful.
But it would make her stronger. When she woke up, she’d be one of them.
Jack whimpered to himself.
Praying.
What would happen when there was no fresh meat left, when everyone had turned?
Fresh meat? She meant people, right?
People like Jack who’d never done her any harm.
She’d rip them apart.
“Jack?”
His wet eyes looked in her direction.
“When we come back…”
His eyes cleared. Expecting her to say something to make it all better, to fix things. To tell him it wasn’t all bad.
She knew what to say. There was only one thing.
“When we come back.” Her eyes started to close. The itchy heat had reached her heart and her brain. “just do… what everyone else does.”
This is an older piece, from way back in January in 2020. Hope you like it!
