Still breathing | Original story

Chapter Thirty one: Remember

I had had enough. I jumped up from my chair and put my arm over his neck, pushing down at his throat.
"Stop!" I hissed. He seemed unfazed, very little emotions were showing. When I realised he didn't care I slowly released him and huffed.
"I am simply stating facts." He stared me straight in the eyes, he wasn't smirking. He was lying, he had to be lying. "My dad knew yours. They worked together trying to perfect the virus."
No, he was an accountant. He had a boring old job, he wasn't some scientist that made up zombies. "You're making this up," I said, not sure whether it was to convince him or myself.
"You volunteered to have Injections, made by your dad, to become immune, to test it. It was a prototype... the rumours said you lost your memory but no one knew for sure."
The injections. The reason behind my fear of needles, the time my dad took me to the hospital because I was ill. Though, thinking back, the place did look odd. Was that what made the zombies act weird around me? I didn't remember much about the hospital but I remembered the liquid filling my veins, my screams as the medicine burned me from the inside out. My heart ached and my brain hurt as I remembered. Shortly after my illness, I stopped doing things that I used to, suddenly I remembered my karate lessons; I was good. I remembered how everything changed afterwards, how I changed.
"It doesn't make everyone immune, some died, but the injection worked for you... and the later one for me." He stared at me, a smile playing on his lips. I didn't understand why I would volunteer to it. Was he telling the truth? "They worked and worked until the government found out. Your dad's work was hidden whilst my father took all the blame. He went to jail and I swore I'd carry it on. And I did."
"How can you be so heartless?" I muttered, he wasn't realising what distress he was putting me through. He didn't think about other people as he decided to carry on with the family business. I wondered if he was as heartless as he made out... I mean he kept me safe, he kept Caleb safe - until the end at least. But it was all for his own gain, wasn't it? None of it was really about me, he just wanted to rule the world. He was power hungry and he would help anyone needed and kill anyone who was not.
I couldn't get over how my whole life seemed to be a lie, I didn't even know who my parents were. Did Ella know? If she had then she would've had the injections and not me, why was it me?
"Heartless? You say that like you aren't." I moved back, realising that I was still lingering far too close. "Maybe at the start you weren't."
I watched anxiously as he opened a draw in front of his seat, a small brown envelope was inside. My throat was scratchy, it was like he was shoving the paper down it. He handed it to me, I could feel the weight inside it. It should've been light so why did it feel like it weighed a ton? Maybe more. He nodded at me to open it and I took a shaky breath before sliding my fingers in the opening and removing the paper from the gluey substance. My fingers were shaky and the envelope was ripped, it looked like a dog had gotten to it first and tried to open it in its mouth. But I didn't care, not really. I was more scared about what was inside. I glanced in and saw what looked to be photographs.
"What are these?" I gulped.
"Just something a friend of mine took." Archie's eyes watched my movements carefully, a smirk still residing on his face.
I pulled out the pictures and saw they were long distance snaps of a street. At first, I was confused... until I saw the car.
There was a body lying in it, legs out. In the distance, two shadows rushing towards the person. I flicked through hurriedly, one of them was pulling the other out of the car. And then finally, a person stabbing the other... these weren't just any pictures. They were pictures of Ella's death. They tumbled to the ground, fluttering down gracefully. I felt like crumbling to the floor, but I stood tall, solid.
"Why do you have these? Are you sick!?" I snarled, clenching my fists at my side. Archie never once stopping grinning.
"No." He shook his head softly. "It was in case you forgot what has happened. Don't let her death go to waste! You're just like me, and together we can take over the world! England is just the start."
"How!?" I spat out. Take over the world? That was the plan? How damn cliché . "And I'm nothing like you." I saw his eyes glistening, the bottom of his lip twitched.
"On the contrary, you are exactly like me. In many ways in fact."
"You're mad." I shook my head. "Completely and utterly mad!" He couldn't believe I was anything like him.
"Madness is repeating the same thing over and over and expecting different results. I, on the other hand, adapted my little virus until it worked. I'm not mad, I'm a genius."
"Okay if you're not mad then please tell me how you can possibly think I am like you."
"You killed," he said it as casually as he would say my name, "Logan is dead at your hands. If you think I am a monster for creating this virus then, in turn, you are also a monster for destroying a life. No?"
"But you've killed so many! You killed Logan, not me." He looked at me disbelieving and I didn't blame him. I turned up, I pushed him into that infected but he didn't know that. Did he?
"I think you're remembering this wrong."
"The only reason he came after me that night was because your apocalypse turned him batshit insane." I was close to sobbing, my body trembled all over. He stood up carefully and inched his body close to mine, I didn't move. I felt like someone had cemented my feet to the floor and all I could do was stand there like a statue.
"He wouldn't have been good enough for you anyway," he whispered in my ear, his warm breath sent tingles down my spine. He kissed me quickly on the lips, they were cold and hard against my own. I felt all the colour drain from my face but still I couldn't seem to move or push him away, he smiled. "Now since we're both standing. Let's have a look around." He started leading me out the door but I stopped him, my curiosity for something that made sense whirling inside me.
"Why go through all the trouble of bringing me here?" Why hadn't he just said 'hey I have a safe house, let's go there'?
He didn't answer like I had wanted him to, "what's a king without his queen? After your father abandoned mine I didn't want anything to do with you but I know we need each other. During our time together you made me realise that I wanted to share this new world with someone equally as good as me."
There it was again, him comparing himself to me. I was nothing like him! Was I?
He looped his arm through mine and carried me out of the small office.

Two weeks ago the world made sense and, as much as I wanted a story book-like adventure, I wanted my old boring life back more. I wanted to finish my exams, go to college, get a boyfriend, get married, have a real life and a future. I could see no future, not one I wanted at least.