When All is Lost

Chapter 52

Getting to my feet for a second time, I didn't give the thing another chance to attack me. I drove my heel down into the back of its skull. I stomped on its head over and over again until I made visible dents. On what had to have been the twelfth blow, my boot got stuck in a deep crevice by the base of its skull.

Wiggling my foot, I tried to free my boot, but it only managed to make the thing's head dance on its neck. Only after a minute of struggle did my boot finally come free with a wet suction as the thing's head fell limp into the snow.

I stood over it panting, waiting for it to move again, but it never did. By that point, I could feel my blood saturating the waistband of my pants. I knew I was in trouble. My vision was spotty at best and I was getting progressively more light-headed. I didn't know if I had internal damage, but I knew I needed to stop the bleeding. I needed to stop it fast.

With one last look at the zombie, I wiped at the tears on my cheeks and began to walk again. I followed the road on clumsy feet, falling into the snow twice before I came across a building. It looked like a dentist's office.

The place had clearly been broken into with its shattered front windows, but I didn't plan on staying longer than necessary. With drops of my blood still making a trail in the snow, I made my way to the nearest broken window and climbed through it.

Broken glass ripped at my jacket but I didn't care. My feet hit the ground inside the building and I paused, listening for any sounds of life or danger. The silence was heavy and gave me no relief. It only served to remind me of how dire everything was.

Nearly slipping on a shard of glass, I made my way farther into the office. As I poked my head into some of the exam rooms, it became evident that whoever had picked over the place had likely taken all the medicine and drugs they could find. All of the cabinets and drawers had been emptied with much of the contents thrown haphazardly on the floor.

I began to pick up paper as I went, creating a stack in my arms as I stumbled from room to room. My teeth were chattering by the time I made it to the third small room. It was nearly pitch black without any windows, but I could make out that it was an office.

A desk held an untouched computer with a printer full of paper beside it. I went for the paper and ran out of energy part way through, ending up in the desk chair. Slumping deeply into it, I held my side as I closed my eyes and took a breath. One breath turned into ten and I could feel my body beg for sleep.

A little rest won't hurt.

My side didn't hurt as badly when I was fighting to move it. Resting was far nicer than pushing on.

It's okay to rest.

Misty and Hayden were resting, too.

I pictured their mangled bodies and recoiled. Tears built up in my eyes and I could no longer hold them back. They burned against my skin, reminding me I was alive and that made me cry all that much harder.

The sobs felt as though they were being torn from the core of my being. I was drowning in them and I deserved it.

It's my fault.

It was my choices – my mistakes – that had led to everything that had happened. I opened my eyes and looked down to where my hands were squeezing my side. With a cuff still around one wrist, my hands were stained with blood, but it no longer felt like it was my own. It was Misty's blood. It was Hayden's.

It was Paula's.

It was Lindsay's.

Mark's.

Owen's