Mortality

Chapter 17: Zarah

December 16th

I cling to Liam’s hand as the two of us run barefoot through the streets of Elizabethtown, Kentucky. Each breath is a struggle, and my eyes are having trouble focusing in the night, but I don’t let my legs stop moving. There will be no escaping reality today. If we stop, we die.

We had been staying in a seemingly abandoned townhouse on our way south to Georgia. We knew we couldn’t stay long, so we gave ourselves just one night to rest before getting back on the road. The infected are everywhere, and their hold on the world is growing every day. One night was all we could spare.

My lungs are on fire.

I don’t think I can run for much longer.

As we move through the night, I replay the last few hours in my mind to try and keep my focus off of the sharp pains in my feet and the way my vision seems to be narrowing.

We fell asleep a little after midnight in a nice looking house. Well, a safe looking house, but that’s all that really matters anymore. It still had windows and a door we could lock behind us, so that counted for a lot.

I got up to find water, and bumped into a table. It was dark, and the house was completely unfamiliar. The beige lamp that had been resting on the side table wobbled and fell, shattering into a million pieces. Liam woke with a gasp, and I heard him sit up from his spot on the couch.

Then I heard it.

A door opened upstairs with a low groan, and Liam flicked on our one flashlight, shining it toward the stairs. We heard several thumps, the top stair creaked, and then we were running for our lives.

We didn’t have time to grab any of our things—not our weapons, not even our shoes. One look at the person at the top of the stairs and we knew what we were dealing with. There was no time to waste.

We were so exhausted that we didn’t even stop to clear the house before curling up in the living room.

My mind was still fuzzy as it happened, and the whole thing took less than a minute. There isn’t nearly enough to keep me from focusing on every rock and glass shard as that cuts into me.

We try to run quietly, but my breathing comes as a mixture of wheezes and gasps. I try to use each jab as a push to keep running. We’ve picked up two more pursuers, but they’re zombies, long dead, and they just shamble after us. If we keep moving, they won’t catch us.

But their moans could alert others. Still, it’s not them that have me pushing down a panic attack.

Despite us slamming the front door behind us, the house’s resident managed to follow us onto the road. Who knows how long it had been lying in wait up those stairs, but one noise from us and it figured out how to open a door.

That’s probably what I hate most about these new Zs—they’re too smart for my own good. They’re already faster and stronger than the infected we learned to fight in the first wave; they shouldn’t be able to problem-solve too. It feels like cheating.

We turn a corner, and after a moment I see a figure in the darkness ahead, waving their arms frantically. I pull Liam’s hand in another direction, convinced we’ve stumbled on yet another threat but he stops me. “They’re motioning for us to go over, I think.”

“You think?” I ask, my voice coming in rasps.

“What other choice do we have? I can’t keep running much longer.” His voice seems as level and strong as ever, and I’m sure he’s just being gallant, but he has a point. I need to stop.

I change direction, running toward the stranger and pulling Liam with me.

As we approach, it’s clear the stranger is a woman and very much alive. She’s dressed in all black and beckons us to follow her.