Time to Survive

Dead and Gone

  I slipped through the broken window easily, landing on my converse clad feet. I glanced around the ramshackle apartment, pretty sure it was probably used as a crack den back in the day.

"Chase?" I called as I walked towards the bedroom.

I stepped through the open doorway, seeing him sprawled across the bed.

I hesitated, then slipped my backpack off my shoulders and stepped to him, brushing his damp blonde hair off his forehead, his fever spiking already.

But he'd only been bitten yesterday.

"Kelsey?" he wheezed, turning at my touch.

I forced a smile at him.

"Hey, babe, I'm back." I said, sitting on the edge of the bed as I pulled him straight, slipping a pillow under his head. "Sorry it took so long. We've scavenged through most of the stuff in the close buildings, I had to go farther."

He looked at me, his blue looking hollow, black circles surrounding his eyes as his infection grew quicker, devouring his once decently healthy body quicker then it should be.

It had taken it a week to kill my parents, but it seemed to be evolving as time grew on, and now it was killing my boyfriend in a matter of days.

I bit my cheek in an attempt not to cry, and brushed his hair off again.

"Are you hungry? Thirsty?" I asked lightly, combing through my bag. "I found some out of date chex mix, your favorite."

"Save it," he muttered, rolling his face away from mine. "You eat it."

"Chase, you need to eat," I told him with a frown. "You can't ---."

"Kels, please." He glanced at me. "There's no point. Don't waste the supplies. I'm done."

"You're not done!" I argued with him, and forced a bottle of water to his lips. "Drink or so help me I'll shove it down your throat."

Chase sighed, opening his chapped lips as I poured the cold liquid down his throat. He grimaced, and I tilted the bottle back up, taking a quick swig of it myself before putting it back in my pack.

"See? Not so hard." I told him, and slipped down to lie beside him, curling my arm around his waist. Chases fingers weakly brushed at my hair.

"I love you, Kels." He whispered after a moment, staring up at the ceiling. "I always have."

"I love you too."

"I never thought... I'm sorry. That I was stupid. And got bit." He had to pause every few words, as if it pained him.

"It wasn't your fault," I murmured. "You were boxed in. It happens."

"I should've ... listened to... you."

"You never listen to me, why would a zombie apocalypse change that?" I said lightly, and he chuckled weakly.

"True."

We stayed like that for a few minutes, and I sighed, pressing my face against his neck, seeing the remnants of a hickey I had given him a few days ago, before everything had went to shit even more then it was.

Chase was all I had left, the only thing still tying me to the life I remembered. He'd been my high school boyfriend, and when we'd graduated, we'd still continued to date, thinking we had our whole lives ahead of us.

Back then, all I'd had to worry about was getting into college and not getting pregnant, trying to make sure my parents still paid my apartment rent and didn't know Chase was living with me.

It all seemed to stupid now.

"Don't cry, Kels," Chase wheezed as he felt my tears through his dingy gray shirt.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'm so sorry. I love you so much, Chase."

He didn't respond, just patted my shoulder, probably the most his deteriorating body could manage.

"I'll never stop loving you," I told him fiercely, kissing his jaw. "Ever."

"Neither will I." he murmured, his eyes closing.

He started to sleep, and I sighed, getting to my feet after a moment, wanting him to rest in peace.

I glanced down at myself, then headed for the bathroom, needing to patch up my injuries and change my clothes.

I wrapped my hands up, pouring a sparing amount of peroxide on them to kill the germs. I looked like I was wearing gloves by the time I was done, and I hastily wrapped my arm, hoping I didn't die of some kind of massive infection that had nothing to do with zombies.

I glanced at my reflection.

My hair was brown, longer then what I usually kept it, and my green eyes were bright and still lively, in my opinion. There was a long cut going across my cheek from the zombies nail, and I had some bruises going down my throat from where they'd been grabbing onto me. I was naturally tan, and it stayed dark year round since my family used to travel everywhere.

I looked down at the sink, seeing the blood splattered across it from where I'd tried to clean myself, the water no longer working since there was no power to pump the water through the pipes.

I swallowed, feeling tears burn my eyes.

Chase was dying. He was going to die and I would lose him.

I felt a sob wrench through me, and I went to my knees, wrapping my arms around them.

He was gonna die.

Everyone was gonna die.

I was gonna die.

I wept against my knees, hating myself for being weak, for being the only one immune to the bite. I should be dead already, and I wouldn't have to worry about it. I wouldn't have to worry about all this.

I had been pushing Chase with me from the beginning.

When the chaos had started, we'd been in my apartment, having sex, and I'd missed all eighteen calls from my parents, trying to find me.

When I'd finally answered, it had been too late, and they'd already been infected from where my older brother Charlie had come home, bitten and half-crazy from the pain.

They'd been at the cabin we had just on the outskirts of the city, my sister Felicia with them. They'd told me not to come home, just to get out of the city while I could, to stay safe and they loved me.

They'd called me every day until they couldn't work a phone anymore; my entire family had died under the same roof, and like an idiot, I had went there, wanting to find them, bury them.

My parents were both dead when I got there, Dad apparently having decided to finish it before they turned. Felicia and Charlie were already turned, staggering around the cabin trying to find a way out.

I'd killed them, finished them off, but not before Charlie had got me too, because killing his entire family was apparently all his zombie brain could think of.

But I hadn't turned, I was still me. I was apparently immune to whatever it was, the virus or disease or whatever the fuck someone wanted to call it.

I'd only met one other person like me, but me and Chase hadn't stayed with their group, knowing it was safer to stay small. It was easier to survive with only two people, splitting supplies, keeping quiet, finding places to sleep.

You also didn't get attached.

I sniffled, my tears finally dwindling down into nothing.

Crying did nothing, but I couldn't help it.

I forced myself to my feet, avoiding the mirror as I stepped back into the bedroom.

Chase was sitting up on the edge of the bed, his body stiff as he gazed forward.

"Chase?" I asked hesitantly.

His head snapped around at the sound, and I took a step back, seeing his eyes.

He was gone.

But it was too soon!

"Chase?" I whispered, and he snarled, staggering to his feet as he turned to attack me. He yowled, and I ducked, sending him staggering into the bathroom.

I grabbed the baseball bat off the floor, stumbling forward as I whirled around, holding it out in front of me.

"Chase, please," I whispered as he turned, drool dripping from his lips, his cheeks gaunt. He stalked towards me, his hands stretched to his sides like claws.

He was gone, just gone.

He attacked me, and I swung the bat, sending it smacking into his skull. He hit the ground, and I wailed on him again, his blood splattering across my clothes as I destroyed his brain, destroying his perfect face, his baby blue eyes, the only person I had ever loved and ever been with and ever woke up next to and ----.

I sobbed, the bat dropping from my fingers.

I fell, landing hard on my butt, and scooted back against the wall, wailing, unable to stop crying again as my heart was torn out of my chest.

He was gone!

I pressed my hands against my face, seeing his warm blood on my skin, in my wounds, all over my clothes.

I couldn't stay here anymore.

I crawled to my bag, jerking it over my shoulder, and then froze, unable to just leave.

I glanced at his mutilated corpse, then reached into his back pocket, slipping his wallet out. I opened it, seeing twenty bucks in cash, a couple pieces of gum, and his drivers license. I pulled it out of the pocket, then hesitated. I tugged on the picture behind the license, seeing it was of us at the beach, he holding me in his arms bridal style as he stood on the dock, both of us grinning and laughing.

I'd thought he'd lost this picture.

I tossed his wallet away, and held tight to the picture and his license.

I slipped them into my pocket, and then went to his pack, taking the supplies out of it that I would need and transferring them all to mine numbly, feeling hollow myself.

My brain was on autopilot as I stood, and tugged the sheets off the bed, slowly covering his corpse, my tears staining the once white material.

I couldn't stop crying.

He was dead, he was gone.

But I loved him so much.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to him, and then left the room and the apartment, unable to look back.

I couldn't look back anymore.