Time to Survive

Don't Get Motion Sick, Mr. Motionless

Chris POV

Kelsey fell asleep, though how she stayed that way as bad as Francesca drove I wasn't sure. Her face was pressed against my neck as she slept, fingers lightly curled onto the sleeve of my shirt.

Her side didn't seem to be bleeding as badly now, and I felt like a jackass for forgetting about it; she'd never forgotten mine.

"So how long have you two been together?" the kid Charlie asked, turned backward on the seat and probably in his late teens.

"She's been with our group for probably a month or more now," I sighed, running a hand through my sweaty hair.

I desperately needed a shower.

"I don't think that's what he meant," Kuza raised his brows at me. "You two are awful close."

"Oh. OH. No," I said quickly, shaking my head. "It's--- uh, it's not like that."

"Is it heading there or what? Because you two are clinging to each other."

I shook my head, feeling embarrassed. "Her boyfriend just died, Kuza, cmon."

"Hey, shit moves fast now," he shrugged. "Chase was a good kid, but she was the only reason he made it as long as he did; she's the survivor. I figured he would bite the dust eventually."

I winced. "Don't let her hear you say that."

"Touchy subject?"

"Very."

Francesca swerved, and headed right for the pack of deaders.

I tightened my grip on Kelsey.

Shit.

I nearly flew out of my seat as she smashed happily through them, their bones crunching sickeningly under the trucks wheels.

Kelsey was wide awake after that.

"Sorry!" Fran called when Charlie bitched at her, his face white as he clung to the seats.

"Are we almost there?" Kelsey mumbled tiredly.

"Yeah, don't worry." I patted her thighs absently.

I looked at Kuza. "So how did your bitchass make it, anyway?"

"Oh, we were setting up for a concert when shit hit the fan," Kuza told me, having to talk loudly over the roar of the engine. "The other guys went back for their families, but me and Fran only had each other so," he shrugged, "we stayed that way. It's worked so far."

"Did any of the guys...?"

"We haven't seen them since."

Fuck.

I sighed, feeling the dampness of Kelseys shirt as my fingers brushed it. I looked down in concern, seeing how pale she was.

"Hey, pullover!" I called, Fran glancing at me in the mirror.

"What?"

"PULL OVER."

Fran frowned, but slowed the truck in a safe area, everyone looking at me like I'd gone insane.

"She really needs some bandages," I explained, sitting Kelsey in the truck bed. "And it'll only take a second."

"Hurry the hell up then," Kuza sighed, turning his head respectfully as I pulled Kelseys shirt up.

I quickly peeled the ruined bandages off and tossed them into the street, ignoring her cringe.

I poured more alcohol on the deep marks, seeing them sizzle at the contact.