The Immune

11. A little girl wandering

Lily 

I am still scared of the dark.
Even though I'm 12.
Right now, the night wasn't helping my terror. The light on the front of the red dirt bike was dim and the shadows snatched at me. I was so tired, just worn out. A red light had begun flashing on the bikes little dashboard - a little picture of a fuel can.
Shadows moved, occasionally materialising into stumbling figures with their arms reaching for me.
I pulled the bike over at the edge of a field, finally too tired to keep going. Any zombie in the area would've been alerted to the sound of my bike, so I needed to move quickly.
In the moonlight, the field was an ocean of wheat, blowing in the breeze. Pushing the bike into a shrub, I began looking for a tree.
I found a strong oak, with many sturdy branches and foliage. It would hide me from anything wandering below.
I climbed the tree slowly. I was never much of a climber - Nate was always good at it. I climbed until I found a shaded spot, that was hidden from below. Getting as comfortable as I could I pulled a tin from my backpack.
Baked beans. I was so hungry I would've eaten anything, even beans.
I tried not to concentrate on the hopeless task ahead of me, but it nagged in the back of my mind.
After my meal I sat back in the tree, pulling Roger close. My heart ached with fear and worry. How was I ever going to be able to find them. I know where they were being taken, but I'm just a kid. I couldn't save them. The compound was a fortress, and I was a one person army, and not even an army. With my eyelids heavy I drifted off into a troubled sleep.
The nightmare came to me, with a clarity that only reality could conjure.
The cold white room was illuminated by a fluorescent blue white. The three hospital beds sat still against the wall. Three patients. Three still human figures.
Walking up to the first bed, I found Nate lying still. His skin waxen, his eyes sunken. The bones in his face sharply defined, with the skin pulled taut. His chest barely moved, but a wispy sound scratched out from his open mouth with every inhale. His arms were bruised with puncture marks, tubes penetrated the scarred flesh.
Brennan lay in his bed, dried blood stained the corner of his eyes and mouth. His closed eyes were a deep bruised shade of purple.
Ash lay still in her bed. What little was left of her hair lay in a knotted mess. Her neck was wrapped in a bandage, a deep red soaking through.
I reached for Nate, touching a cold form. I shook him, calling his name. His head bobbled back and forth, his eyes remaining closed.
I stopped, tears running down my cheeks, resting my head against his chest. I closed my own eyes, and listened to the faltering thump of his heart.
A sound of a sob made me lift my head.
Dad stood at the side of ash's bed. He sobbed uncontrollably. He looked different though, not the man that I remembered. He muttered, I could only hear angry snatches. He clutched an angry looking knife in his shaking hands.
"dad?"
"they didn't listen...who was I... Their fault...all over...nothing to stop them...all has to be.."
With an action so quick I could barely see it, he raised his knife and brought it down onto ash's sleeping form.
The knife sunk deep, as he twisted the blade. She hadn't moved a muscle.
A low groan next to me captured my shocked attention.
Nate had opened his eyes. Not the loving eyes of my brother. But the milky eyes of a zombie.
I heard Brennan groan on the next bed. Commotion began as dad and Brennan began a fight for their lives. Monster against monster.
I hadn't taken my eyes off Nate.
His eyes, so full of hatred and hunger finally focused on me. It lept.