Survival of the Fittest

Chapter 3

Present Day

"NO!" I scream, jolted awake from my nightmare. It happens almost every night. I'm forced to relive the loss of the people I loved. The human brain is cruel. I slowly sit up, trying to survey my surroundings in the dim light. When my eyes adjust, I can see a chair beside my bed and a night table covered in old bandages. Ouch. Those must be mine. Seeing the bandages brings on swarms of pain. I can tell my body is covered in bruises and scratches, making the slightest movement excruciating.

My head whips to the sound of footsteps coming from outside of a door I had yet to notice. I scramble to my feet and search for a makeshift weapon, which happens to be tweezers. I hold my breath and wait for the stranger to open the door.

Hearing the click of the handle, I don't wait for them to enter, I lunge towards them with what little strength I have. I bring the tweezers up towards their face but they have me pinned to the floor before I can make another move, knocking the tweezers away in the process.

"This is how you thank the person who saved you? Americans," I'm met with an accented, female voice.

"Well, the Brits and I haven't really gotten along since we threw their tea in the harbor," I retort.

"Funny," her tone the paradox of humored. Cautiously, she unpins me from the ground, backing away and taking a seat in the chair.

Sitting up, I finally get a good look at my supposed savior. She's stunning in a cold way. Dark calculating eyes and hair to match. Her demeanor reminds me of a wolf, attentive and intelligent. She's someone who looks like they've seen war.

I'm suddenly self conscious knowing that my appearance is less appealing. My hair is a mess and my clothes raggedy.

"Where am I?" I ask.

"Somewhere safe," she softly replies.

"Where is that exactly?" I pry, but am only met with a blank stare.

"So what's your name?" I ask, changing the subject.

"Kyla."

"What happened?" Everything is fuzzy and I'm having a hard time recalling what went on between zombies and now.

"You got yourself in a bit of trouble. Passed out from the pain. I had to drag you here," she replies gruffly.

"Where exactly is here? How long have I been out? Did I get bit?" I'm starting to panic from the lack of information.

"You ask a lot of questions," her cold eyes full of annoyance, "Look, you're fine. If you had been bit, I wouldn't have kept you around now would I? As for where you are, you're near the border of Nevada. Carson City to be exact."

"Have you seen a little girl anywhere? Around twelve?" I ask, now in full panic mode.

"No. The only living thing I've seen in the past few weeks is you." Kyla replies, impatiently.

My mind is spinning. I left Raegan in a supermarket when I had seen the creatures appear down the street. I had hoped to draw them away from her. What if something had happened to her? I would never forgive myself.

"I need to go back out there. My little sister is out there. She could be hurt." I plead with Kyla.

"It's too dangerous." She argues.

"No! I need to be out there. If anything happens to her." I leave the sentence hanging, not needing to finish it. "Please. Help me."

She hesitantly considers the situation. I could go out alone but with her skills I might make it back alive more easily. She opens her mouth to respond while I hold my breath in anticipation.

"Fine," she stubbornly decides, "but you will do exactly as I say. No funny business."