All That's Left (The Walking Dead FanFiction)

Chapter 28

I scream.

The pain is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It feels like every layer of my skin has been ignited. Every piece of me engulfed in flames. I’m dying. It feels like I’m dying.

Using my forearm, I push her back, my knife diving into her skull. She falls to the ground as I watch the blood pour from my wound. I’m breathing so hard my lungs might implode. I just keep staring at the blood.

My blood.

My blood is everywhere.

I’ve been bit.

The disease is coursing through my veins.

With every passing second I’m becoming more and more like the infected.

With every passing second I’m losing more and more of myself.

“No, no, no,” I say the word over and over again, thinking the more I try to fight it the better chance I have at living.

I’m in denial. This isn’t happening. I’m not turning. This isn’t how I’m supposed to die. I’d always envisioned my death as being heroic, dying in the place of someone else. I don’t even know how much time I have. I don’t know how long it takes for the disease to take over. I don’t know how long it takes to die.

I need to see him.

His face suddenly flashes through my memories and I realize that I need to be with him one last time before I die. I can’t die without seeing him again.

My arm ignites in pain as I take off running back towards the house. I keep waiting to feel different. I keep waiting to have the craving for human flesh. What if I turn right when I walk through the door? What if I kill Sam?

I know it can’t happen that fast. My thoughts are still human. My heart is still human. I know that I have time.

“Daryl! Daryl!” I tear through the front door, screaming his name.

He stands in front of me with swollen eyes and a solemn expression. His gaze immediately goes to my arm and he breaks. Tears pour down his cheeks.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been bit.” His voice cracks. His lips quiver.

“Yeah, I was,” I say in between sobs, “but I needed to see you.”

He shakes his head. “No. No, you weren’t. Macy, you weren’t.”

“Just—“ my voice cracks and I have to draw a long breath before I can continue, “just promise me you’ll kill me before I turn. Promise me, please.”

His hands shake at his sides as he reaches out to touch my face, gently tracing my scar with his fingers.

“Fuck you!” he shrieks. “Why would you do this? Why would you let this happen?”

“I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry, I—“

He pulls me into his chest, covering my mouth with his shoulder. We both fall to the floor and he holds me tighter when I start weeping. My shoulder shake as I gasp for air. I’ve become numb to the pain in my arm.

“What am I supposed to do without you?” His voice is so drowned in tears it hardly sounds like him.

I just tremble harder.

I don’t know how long we stay like this. At some point he pushes me away to look at my eyes and make sure I’m not close to turning. He presses a hand against my forehead.

“The fever hasn’t set in yet,” he murmurs.

I nod my head, knowing that if I tried to speak my voice would break.