Love on the Run (From Zombies)

Chapter 20

He was right.

I woke up to light, the sun was pouring through the gaps.

I was alone.

I got up quickly, hurting my shoulder and chest, but not caring, this was worse.

            “Jack?”

Nothing.

            “Jack!” I shouted.

Nothing.

No movements in the house, not that I could hear anyway. I got to my feet, wrapped a sheet around me and searched the house.

It was empty; silent and empty. I looked out the windows; no signs of life, not even birds or insects.

A pin point of ice cold fear began in my stomach and radiated outwards until I was on the verge of a panic attack.

            “He’s just gone out to get food.” I whispered to myself, though the cupboards were full.

            “He’s gone to find help.” I started a mantra to keep the panic at bay; I could feel it trying to clutch at my heart, my lungs….icy fingers wanting to squeeze the breath from me. Whilst I could identify it, I could keep it at bay, I could reply with thoughts of my Jack. He would be back at any minute.

Hours passed. Hours upon hours. Night came and then morning again. I couldn’t sleep. I was terrified. Where was he? Had he had enough? Had he decided that the scars were that repulsive? That I wasn’t worth the effort? That he didn’t love me anymore? Was it that easy to turn on and off?

No, I wouldn’t give in to panic so I was damned if I was giving in to paranoia.

I searched the house again, looking for a note or some sign of what had happened, but there was nothing; everything was as it was when he was here. How long should I wait before going to look for him? He could be in trouble? And if he was, what use would I be?

I would wait another hour and then I would go and look for him.

The clock on the wall marked each second like an age, the hand feeling as though it was moving backwards.

I had taken anything sharp I could find and dumped it in a back pack, along with food, first aid stuff and the shirt Jack had worn before he left. It still had his scent which made me feel weak.

            I tucked a sharp kitchen knife into the belt loops of the trousers; cable tied another to each of my ankles. I felt ridiculous, but better than being unarmed. My trusty axe was in my right hand, I felt safer with it close by, and though I knew I didn’t have the strength to do any real damage with it.

I still wasn’t feeling great, I could barely move the top half of my body, but I was damned if I was going to sit here and risk him being in trouble.

The hour finally passed. I got to my feet and slung the bag on my back, the axe swinging by my ankles with each step.

I had written a note to Jack in case he came back. I was leaving a trail for him to follow if he did want to find me. I copied Sarah from Labyrinth, leaving arrows in lipstick on the paving every so often. The house owner had every shade imaginable so it should last me a while.

I stilled the thought that I was leaving a trail for something bad to follow me, but right then, I didn’t care. I wanted…..needed to find Jack, even if it was just for him to tell me to piss off. I needed to know. Hope that I wasn’t discarded was the only thing keeping me going.