Phase 43

Chapter 9 - Finn

"You been in touch with Elliot yet?" Sam asked.

Shit.

Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap.

I scrambled for my phone, flipping it on. How how how had I forgotten? Mumbling under my breath, I checked my texts, which I had turned on Do Not Disturb because I had thought we were going to be on a plane for 12 hours. Heart hammering in my chest, I watched as text after text from Elliot swarmed in, each more worried and depressing than the previous. My fingers scrambled across the keyboard, attempting to type of my mistake.

Oh god El, i'm so sorry i haven't responded yet... i have loads to tell you, but i can't do it over text. There was a bombing at the airport, we're still in LA. i'm so so sorry that I didn't get back to you earlier, oh god...

Sam watched in disbelief as I clicked send, then gave me a look.

"You promise-"

"Shut up," I slammed my fist into his shoulder. Sam yelped, rubbing the spot on his arm I had hit. I felt horrible immediately, but I didn't really care.

"The frick was that for?" Sam cried, giving me a look. I glanced away, letting my hair fall in front of my eyes. The rock in my stomach grew larger and larger, and then it was suffocating me.

"God, I'm sorry Sam," I whispered, running a hand over my face. I rubbed my eyes hard, as if trying to wake myself up from this horrible nightmare.

"Is everything okay?" Sam asked quietly. I felt a hand on my shoulder. Blinking quickly, I lifted my head up, looking anywhere but Sam and my phone.

"What do you think?" I said slightly more harshly than I intended. Why am I acting like this? Why am I suddenly so hostile?

"I know this is hard Finn. Goodness, I know. I haven't heard from Lance, or Rick. Elliot told me about Gwen, and the last thing I heard from Carter was that he was flying to Australia with his mother," Sam said, but I wasn't sure if he was trying to cheer me up or make me sadder.

"Charlie says this is the end of the world. It's like Ebola, but worse," I muttered. Sam glanced away, rubbing his jaw. He had a bad habit of doing that - it resulted in acne in the worse spots.

It took a moment for Sam to respond. "Well, Charlie's a deep kid. He can take stuff. He's strong like that. We all are. Lucas saw one of CNN's reports and started talking about wanting to take Grampa's old AR 15 out of the shed in the back and snipe off zombies," Sam chuckled. I choked for a moment, my eyes widening. My 6 year old little brother wanted to kill zombies. Dear lord.

"He what?" I asked. Sam was laughing now.

"I told you - he wants to kill zombies. The kid's taking a lot better than some of us," Sam said. I caught the glance he threw my way and returned it by punching him in the shoulder again. This time, I laughed.

"There's that famous Seraphina Smile," Sam chortled. I stopped laughing to glare at him. Seraphina was my real name - I know, what were my parents thinking? It sounds like it came straight out of a Barbie movie. Anyways, I had long since been going by Finn, and I always promised punishment if anyone used my real name. Sam was the only one who used it without the fear of getting his throat slit, because he had this charming effect called being an adorable ass.

"You're pushing it, you know that right?" I asked with a sly smile, looking at him out of the corner of my eye. Sam winked.

"That's my job," He said, then stood up.