Resistance

Chapter Fourteen

Fourteen

          I rush inside the room and once Bullet and I are safely inside, I turn around and silently shut the door. Locking it, I check it three times before I feel slightly safe crouching in front of Emily.

            She’s sitting on the floor, leaning her back against the wall as she shakes. I’ve never seen her look like such a mess before and I have no idea what to do – or say – to her to make things even a little bit better. I can’t get over how much blood there is. It’s everywhere, dripping all over the floor. It’s a miracle that the zombies don’t smell the blood.

            “What happened?” I breathe, having no idea what else to say. As soon as the words leave my mouth Emily is clutching my dress, my arms, any part of me as sobs start to rock her body more than the trembles.

            I have no idea what else I can say. I don’t even know what to do. Maybe if I had my memories, I’d have some form of way to know how to comfort her, to get her to stop crying, but I don’t. So all I do is kneel in front of her, letting her grasp my clothes and skin as if she’s holding onto my for her life. Finally, when she does speak, I can barely hear her. She’s so quiet, so fragile sounding that there’s no way the zombies next door can hear her.

            “I-I was looking at the makeup,” she cries. Her eyes are glassy and wide, as if remembering what happened is making her as scared as she was before. “And when I looked over, Cole and Jack we’re gone. They left me, Sloane.” She starts whimpering and takes a few moments to collect herself before she can continue. “I went looking for them when I realized that I was by myself. So I started to go towards the exit but it was dark, so I couldn’t tell what way I was going. Those…Those zombies…”

            She trails off and nods toward the wall to my right.

            “They found you,” I reply. She nods and lets her palm uncover the wound on her shoulder. It looks terrible. Much, much worse than my ankle had.

            “You can’t tell them,” she whispers. Though quiet, her voice is very strong. “You can’t tell anyone I got bit, Sloane. They can’t know. I don’t want to die.”

            I wish somebody else found Emily. I don’t know if I can lie to the others, especially if it puts them in danger. I already did that to them once and even though I healed, I don’t know if that means Emily will too.

            She’s hysterical. She starts shaking worse again, her sobs growing louder. “You can’t tell them. I don’t want to die, Sloane! I don’t want to become a monster! You can’t tell them.”

            She thinks that by not telling the others, somehow she will live. She’s shell-shocked; unable to comprehend the truth she’s scared to hear.

            When I don’t respond, Emily grasps my dress by my neck, pulling me close to her blood-stained face.

            “You can’t tell them,” she repeats, her voice clipped. In a second she’s gone from upset to angry, even crazy on some level. “If you tell them, I’ll kill you. I swear I’ll do it!”