"How did this happen?" I asked.
The tall man who had saved my life moments before raised his eyebrows in apparent disbelief. He shook his head and opened his mouth as if to answer my question, but before he had a chance to utter a word, a face turning up from nowhere dug fangs at his throat, his eyes widening in shock as he held mine and hands instinctively flying up to the undead head, pulling and punching at it. I stood frozen and unable to move or think for a long moment before reason rushed back to my head and I slammed both rocks that I was still holding tightly in my hands onto the head. It was bashed in. The head fell off at the same time as the man stumbled down onto his knees, before dropping stiffly on his side. I dropped down beside him frantically searching for a pulse, any movement. I had turned him over to see his face, when a roar sounded from above me from another man driving a knife into the dead man's neck before proceeding to draw the weapon all the way to the right.
I was just about to lose it, when the new arrival straightened up and held his hands — soaking, recently used knife still in hand — up.
"He was turning, he would have become undead if he was left!" He called out to me through the commotion, as if a way of explaining what had just happened. I was shaking in my place, unable to move, as the man took a step forward. "The infected don't get cold feet, they don't have thoughts, they only want one thing. And if you or someone you know or love get infected too, well, it's the survivors' responsibility not to let them free, free to harm more people."
I backed as he took another step toward me, assessing his every move, listening carefully to his words. But something about him prevented me from trusting him.
He narrowed his eyes. "You wouldn't want that, would you?" Another step forward. Then he was pulled away by another man who seemed to have been shouting instructions before they both jumped on a figure threatening a younger group, but not before the first man turned back to bare his unsharpened yet as hair-rising teeth in a grin at me. I quickly swept the faces of the group of adolescents, already having a sinking feeling in my gut that my brother wouldn't be there amongst them.
Somebody stumbled into me, an older man, fending off an infected, with as much grace as one could possess in this world. I met his dark eyes for a moment. "If I were you, I would fight or run." He said hastily to me, before delivering a kick in the infected's face that sent him backwards. I was staring at the older man, shocked at the swiftness and power of his combat. He returned to me, eyes boring into mine, as I couldn't stop staring at him. In barely a whisper, he spoke to me again, enunciate each word, "Run. Don't trust them."
Before I could say anything he turned and dove toward another infected. I was frozen in place as the scene was playing out in front of me. Thoughts, impulses, or survivor's instinct returned to me in a sobering instant when I realised that the man who had cut the throat of a man who had gotten bitten, after saving me, was a few feet away now, eyes set intently on me. I surveyed him carefully, before deciding that he wasn't an infected. Yet I felt like bashing the rocks that I was still gripping tightly onto him too. I watched as he carelessly staked an infected, saving another fighter. No, if I rendered him inoperable, I would be the reason he wouldn't continue to save more lives. As I watched, he suddenly raised his finger, pointing toward my left. Before I had decided whether or not I should follow his gaze, my left arm was grabbed by sticky, long, bony fingers. Instinctively, I swung the rock again, and turned to look as I struck dead looking but very much functioning head of an infected. I had to repeat the blow more times before my arm was free. Without a second thought, or looking back, I took the older man's advice and ran.
Narrowingly escaping the battle scene, I ran, pushed, and jump my way passed it, continuing in the direction I had been headed to before. Don't trust them, the older man's words repeated themselves in my mind as I continued to run. Something told me that he wasn't referring to the infected. That he was not a man to state the obvious. If he had meant his follow fighter, what reasons were there for him to advice something that could be perceived as treacherous? If there were any reasons not to trust them, why was he still with them?
I blinked fervently as if to blink those thoughts away, and crashed into a hard wall that send me flying backwards a foot before I landed hard on my butt, seeing those black spots in my vision returning. I need some food, and water, I thought groggily as I looked up. A strange, high-pitched scream escaped me as I stared up at him. The stocky, broad shouldered, yet lean built, strong jaw and cheekbones, unmistakable hazel eyes, that stared stunned back at me. No, not him. As he took a step forward, toward me, I scrambled up to my feet and took off still screaming. No. Don't trust them.
I couldn't hear the calls over my screams, so when I was becoming breathless and slowing down, I forced myself to suppress them in order to get my breathing back and pick up the pace again. That's when I heard my name. Without slowing down I turned.
"Rose! Rose?" Nick cried out after me. Could the blood-crazed creatures speak? Seeing him as one of them had me screaming uncontrollably again, and losing my breath, and stumbling. I noticed that I had started bringing attention to me from both fighters and roamers on the streets, as more dazed figures stumbled out of dark, hidden places on each side of me. One of those figures appeared in front of me and knocked me down with one swing of the arm. I heard a blood curdling scream above me and started crawling as fast as I could, while stumbling over lumps on the ground, trying not to see the lifeless faces belonging to them. I was about to join them. Arms, strong arms, got hold of me and yanked me up to my feet, despite my resistance.
"Rose! Stop that! It's me, Rose!... Look!" Nick was shouting, his fingers were digging into my arms where he held me, and then he pulled me into his arms and crushed his lips onto mine.
