Bloodhearts

Chapter ten: Cause.

Cory looks me in the eye as he hands me the gun once more. "It's okay, Jay. Now, this time I want you to think about how you hold the gun. Not about hitting your target, just try to let yourself get a better grip on your weapon. Don't shoot if you don't feel like you're holding it properly." He helps me hold my arm up again and I struggle to hold my arms up and not dropping the gun.

"Okay. When you're ready," Cory tells me and I fire the gun. The bullet flies right beside the can and into the wall. I groan in annoyance and Cory takes the gun from me. 

"It doesn't matter," he says. "That wasn't bad. Your aim's there. But it's going to take time." He caresses my cheek.

"Cory, Jay," Brendan says, approaching us. "Everything's packed and ready to go."

Cory nods. "Good. We'll leave in two," he tells Brendan.

It makes me smile and when Cory notices it makes him raise an eyebrow. "What?" he says.

I shake my head lightly, still smiling.

He looks at my lips and chuckles. "And you wonder why I called you a serial killer? You're still staring at me, you creeper," he mumbles, only for me to hear. The joke has become ridiculously accurate since he first said it. It doesn't make me mad. Instead, I continue to grin like an idiot.

"You still wanna get me?" he teases. "Then you gotta hit your target..." 

He leans up and places one soft kiss on my lips and I make sure to remember the feeling of it. I t surprises me that my gruesome exterior doesn't repel him. I feel a whole lot better simply because he's here. However, in the back of my mind I have a lot of concerns. What if Spencer reaches us before we can get anywhere? What if my dad won't listen to us? What if something worse happens? All I can hope for is that our desperate attempt to make things better can work out. They have to if any of us want a future.

And then it's time to go. We bring only the most important stuff. We let the radio stay because we know they know we're listening. We decide to make it look like most of us didn't make it through the attack by wrecking the place completely. Then we fire one loud gunshot and leave, fast. We walk the entire day on constant guard to any threat we might meet. If we meet another pack of undead it could slow us down or possibly kill us. I clutch my gun tightly, hoping I won't have to fire it yet. I'm not sure I could hit anything even if it was right in front of me.

When night comes, we settle down to sleep. We choose a small village that's completely emptied of everything with only a few soon-to-be dried out dead shuffling about. We find a building that used to be an old sports hall. It has no windows and only a few doors that we can guard easily. The old mattresses for gymnastics and yoga are still there. We find them locked away in a storage room and use them as beds. Meanwhile all this is set up, I take out my knife again. I want be able to help next time an attack comes. Facing the facts, we all know we have to fight at some point. The question is how and when.

"You better take a break, you've been doing that all day. It's gonna exhaust you sometime soon." Cory's hand closes around mine. "Jay..." 

I very hesitantly let go and let him take the knife from me so he can look me in the eyes. 

"I saw how that look on your face earlier. I know you still feel weak, but I need you to remember something; the reason we are all here is because we believe you. Because we believe you can help to change things. A powerless man can't do that."

He knows me so well. 

"Know that," I tell him and lean my head against his neck when we sit down for a bit. I don't say anything more than that because I think Cory understands.

Then he asks me the inevitable thing. "What happened to you, Jay?" 

He's looking at me with that same terror that I saw in his eyes the day I lost him. The day I died. I want to show him that I have nothing to hide, so I sit face to face with him as if my eyes can show it all to him. 

"Was lost," I tell him. "C-couldn't remember me, you, a-anything. Think being infected and l-letting go is like esc-aping. Go c-crazy not knowing who you... are."

He looks me over. "Yeah. I think I know how you feel... I've spent so much time doing things I knew would keep me busy. I didn't care about any of it. I was kind of like a robot - or a dead person, maybe."

I grab his face and make sure he understands what I'm about to tell him. "N-no," I tell him. "N-never think that."

He gives me a small smile. "Don't worry, I don't think like that anymore. Besides, we can do this. We'll show them all. We can help," he says and it does something to my insides. I can't stop looking at him.

"Jay, I love you," he whispers. "But don't EVER do that again, understand? Don't you dare sacrifice yourself for me again. Then you might as well kill me too. I'm not going through that again. So you better tell me you believe this can succeed. I want to have a life with you again."

I press him against my chest. "Promise," I tell him. "M-make my father believe too. C-can do this." 

Cory doesn't say anything else and we get to enjoy a quiet moment in each other's arms. We both know it only lasts through the night, like another dream, and that in the daytime our mission continues. 

Walking a few days is a bigger challenge than it might seem. We are short on water most of the time and must share and much as possible. There's every chance someone will dehydrate and maybe faint. Sadie also told us that she can't determine how much strain my body can take. I still don't drink or eat anything. Sadie is worried. The last couple of days haven't been progress for me at all. Even though Cory and everybody else do their best to help me, it is as if I get weaker every day. Sadie is working hard to discover why.

The day we reach the camp, I limp my way forward. We hide from the patrols who are extra alert these days and we search for an old hidden passageway. It's the only way we can get inside unseen. It's the old sewers and the smell down here is worse than anything you could find above ground. Everything is dead down here except for the rats, maybe. Much like the dead, the rats will eat anything in a heartbeat if they get the chance. It's a bit like the boneys whom I'm sure are attempting to track us down. It's only a matter of time before they discover that we've killed one of them and that I am fraternizing with the living. I don't say anything to my friends, but in the back of my mind I am afraid that the boneys will find us or even attack camp. If that's the case I'm not sure how much of a chance we've got to do anything. The boneys can always smell a rat. 

When we go through the sewers, the tension is rising. We know this is as good as suicide. But in desperate situations, you have to throw in all you've got to survive. 

Jason opens a hatch and I check to see if the coast is clear. He gives us the go ahead less than a minute later. From there on, as we run through a rainy night, we rely only on our knowledge of the camp. We don't waste a second and run to the house belonging to Jack McDean, Cory's dad, hoping we can hide there. 

On the way, Cory throws me his old hoodie that I have to use to hide my face. We don't wanna scare the man unintentionally. I put it on over my otherwise torn clothes. It's one of my old uniforms that doesn't look like it can be saved. It has as many scars as me and looks as tired as I feel. I wish it didn't have to be this way and that sending Cory a reassuring smile would be easy. I suppose it is easy to forget that living is just as hard as being dead. I have other worries now and most of them involve Cory and my friends. I wonder what to tell my father. I'll have to explain everything in very few words and I have to do it before he pulls the trigger on me. And I'm afraid he will if I miss my chance.

We reach Cory's street and it's perfectly empty. No patrols. Everyone waits for my command. I nod at Cory and we run to the McDean house. 

Taking a deep breath, he knocks on the door and waits for his father to answer the door.