Infectious

Part Two; Chapter 11: Kai

We were shattered like fallen glass.

All toppling like a blown-over card house in the wind.

Bright gold-flecked eyes stared wide.

Tears act as a distorted mirror cascading his swollen cheeks.

Swaying flickering lights emit dimly amongst the haze.

Hundreds of crazed bodies on the brink of insanity.

Screams of helpless victims pierce bursting eardrums.

Time to say our final goodbyes.

Walls closing in around us.

Only one lives.

Only one dies.

PART 2

Streaks of golden sunlight peak out from behind heavy charcoal-gray clouds hanging above us. Strong whiffs of nearing rain float about threatening a downpour at any second—three weeks of running within shadows, sleeping in beds that are not ours. With every passing moment, I watched as Jax's anxiety builds. Without even noticing his anxiety becomes my own with every passing second. Both of us want to find Drake before travel is no longer an option. As the days and nights passed, the harder it was to move around Orchard Hills, especially during the daytime hours. Making our journey much longer than anticipated. Barak has done exceptionally well guarding us from afar. He insisted on walking far behind us, claiming it helps him assess any lurking danger. But I honestly believe he doesn't feel comfortable around Jax and me. As if humanity itself scares him. Nonetheless, a sense of security washes over me knowing he has our backs.

"Hey," Jax gives my arm a little nudge, "Le Bioctch up ahead, maybe like half a mile. Could we pick up the pace without getting noticed?" I want to tell him yes. His eyes light up with gut-wrenching hope.

"Jax, that isn't safe." His face falls, and a sharp pain erupts briefly across my chest. "Come on now, half a mile isn't that far. The Clinic isn't too far across the border. By..." I reach for his hand. For a fleeting moment, I contemplate intertwining my fingers with his. Maybe it would give us both back some of the comforts we have lost. But instead, I twist his wrist to see the time displayed. "By 1:00 or 1:30 Drake will be in eyesight. Well before sundown." Dropping his hand he shoves it deep into a pocket tightly pressed against his thigh.  Why are his cheeks turning a shade of pink? Why is my own heating up?

"Sure." He mumbles under his breath. Eyes locked dead ahead.

Excitement and the all-too-familiar anxiety have my heart beating a million beats per second. We have had nothing but built-up anticipation during our travels. Neither of us wanted to believe the worst could happen to Drake. He was a strong young man, very capable of standing his ground. But between the looks, Barak gives us– ones o pity– and our constant nightmares, we need to see him with our own two eyes. See that he is okay and not one of the infected stumbling about city streets. Almost every night we have sprung awake in a pool of salty sweat, barely breathing, eyes crazed in horror. Each of us took turns calming the others down with happy stories of before. I can-

"Ahem." Barak clears his throat about a hundred feet behind us. "Have you two considered changing into something... more socially acceptable?" Jax and I glance at each other in slight confusion. "Seriously guys?" Barak almost seems baffled. Jax shrugs his shoulders.

"What do you mean?" A twinge of annoyance bubbles at the surface of each word. I pull Ollie back into a firm sit before turning around. Barak stands there shaking his head in disbelief.

"No one is to enter Le Biotch if you are less than a green status. Both of you-" he gestures at both of us, his palm up open wide. "Are in blue attire." Oh shit.