When All is Lost

Chapter 55

Twelve.

My skin began to itch. I started to rake my nails up and down my sleeves, almost subconsciously trying to wipe off the feeling.

Fifteen.

The time couldn't have come soon enough. The longer I was left with my own thoughts, the more my mind tried to consume me. I hauled myself through the window, clutching my side as I did in an attempt to lessen the strain.

Once my boots hit the wooden floor, I began to make noise. I was cautious at first, only stomping my feet and tapping my knife against the windowsill. When nothing happened, I began to talk.

"Ian? Can you hear me?" I was met with silence. I moved around the dining room table, tapping my knife on it as I went. "There is still a horde coming this way. We need to make this fast."

Nothing.

It was always eerie walking through the remnants of a home, but there was something especially off-putting about knowing that I wasn't alone. It was a disturbed type of hide-and-go-seek.

"I'm moving into the hallway," I told the walls. "Okay?"

I moved out of the dining room and took what looked like a long hallway to the back of the large house. Keeping a firm grip on my knife, I made every step with my heels hitting the ground hard.

Just how much noise am I supposed to make?

"You know that just behind the horde is a whole group of people coming for us, right?" I breathed out a sigh of frustration. "We really can't..."

My words were lost to me as I heard a loud thud. It came from the room dead ahead of me. Instinct begged for me to turn back. I made myself continue forwards.

I entered a study. Its rich red wooden bookcases shined in the morning light that breached the back windows. It would have been a beautiful room if it wasn't smeared with blood.

"I'm... I'm in the study." I announced, swallowing hard.

Quick, harsh footsteps thudded from the open archway at the far side of the room. Within seconds, a figure filled the space. I instantly froze.

She looks so...

Her blank eyes focused on me.

Alive.

Her head tilted to the side as she jerked herself forward and I could see the gash at the base of her neck where a chunk of flesh had been torn off. The tips of her mousy, brown hair stuck to her wound, holding the end of her ponytail in place.

Her hair looks like mine.

She was smaller than me and younger too, but not by much. My gut sank as she tried to rush me.

She could have been alive yesterday.

I backtracked into the hallway, keeping my eyes on the zombie the whole time. Her mouth hung open and I wondered if she had even had the chance to bite anything living since dying.

"She's here," I finally said as I was halfway through the hallway. She entered the doorway and before I could even say another word, a coat was tossed over her head.

My eyes widened as I watched Ian twist the arms of the coat around her neck, effectively making the fabric into a hood. The zombie struggled, flailing wildly as it tried to free itself. Ian's mallet hitting the floor broke me out of my shock and I began to run to help him as he wrestled the thing to the ground.

I raised my knife, feeling terror scratch at my spine.

Not Ian.

"No!" Ian yelled at me, making my steps falter. "Don't. Don't."