The Serum

F O U R T E E N.

I've never run so fast. Not even when I was being chased by four angry officers.

Although, now that I think about it, fat officers are nothing compared to bloodthirsty mutants. I push myself faster, pumping my legs as fast as they can go. I keep a steady eye on the ground, watching for sneaky roots. At the pace I'm going, a trip could mean some nasty injuries. Aria whimpers behind me, panting quickly. The girl has probably never run so much in her life, judging by the way she starts to slow down.

However, with one fearful glance back at the Creepers on our heels, she zooms forward, eclipsing me. I moan but lengthen my stride, trying to catch up with the rest of the group. Oliver's way ahead, his long legs making it easier for him. Lucas also keeps pace with him, his jock conditioning training finally becoming useful. Aria and I straggle behind, though I know I have more stamina. The rich girl... I'm not so sure. 

Suddenly, as the four of us vault over some bushes into a clearing, Oliver grinds to a stop, holding his arms out in front of him. Lucas skids, stopping right in front of Oliver's outstretched arm.

"Wha-" begins Lucas, but trails off when he looks over Oliver's arm.

We're heavily surrounded. Creepers close in from all directions, their groans coming together. They almost drown out our voices.

"I thought you said Creepers didn't have brains!" Aria yells at me.

"Well, clearly, I was wrong!" 

"Did Lizzy Selburn just admit she was wrong?" Lucas gapes. I punch him.

"We're about to die, so what difference does it make?" 

"Calm down, we aren't going to die," tells Oliver, ever calm. I scoff.

"Oh really? Have you seen where we are? Do the math, pal. Hundreds of them, four of us." 

Oliver sighs, not looking at me. "Creepers are weak. We can disembowl them easily."

"I'm a good girl. I get good grades, I don't ask for much, I keep to myself," mutters Aria crazily to herself. "Why did I do to deserve this?"

"Aria?" I ask her. She turns to me. "Shut up." 

She scowls.

"Everyone, get a weapon." I fish around for my gun, turning off the safety.

"How many magazines do we have?" I murmur to Oliver, who wordlessly holds up ten fingers. I grimace; we definitely shouldn't waste all our bullets on one encounter. That would be painfully unwise. 

"We shouldn't use more than four or five. Save the others for more... desperate situations." I reason with him.

"I'd say this is a pretty desperate situation," bites Aria, who is fumbling to set up her gun. None of us want to get near a Creeper, so we all chose guns. Whether it will be effective against a Creeper, that's another story. 

They drag closer and we hold our guns up, tensed. It reminds me of those sci-fi movies Sam loved to make me watch, the ones where the heroes always liked to fight in some kind of formation that was obviously practiced. 

A brush of skin jolts me out of my fond memories and I shoot wildly, the sound ricocheting off the trees. Three Creepers slump to the ground but the others hardly notice. They inch closer to us and Lucas jostles me.

"Watch it, nitwit, you almost got us," he growls.

"Hey, I don't see any of you shooting, so I did." I snap back. 

The words had hardly left my mouth when the Creepers jump simultaneously. Aria shrieks as they fall upon us, hitting wildly.

Well, so much for long distance defense, I think grimly as one Creeper nails me on the lip. I taste salt and spit. They're definitely not as strong as normal people but they can inflict damage all the same. I don't wanna risk anything. 

Using the butt of my gun, I fight off the mobs of Creepers, spinning brashly. I haven't been trained in self-defense; the only thing I know is where to hurt a man the most. Although, I don't think that will do much for Creepers. Lucas lets out a yell as his gun is tossed aside, and curls up into a futile ball as Creepers pound him and screech. Oliver jumps to his rescue, flinging the Creepers off Lucas as if they weigh nothing more than a slip of paper. 

I turn my head back to focus on the Creepers coming towards me when I see rotted teeth gnash before me. I scream and fall back, scrambling as far back as I can. A little bit closer and I would've become infected. Adrenaline, fear, and terror pulse through me, turning my blood to ice. That was close; too close for my comfort. More and more of them encroach and I hold up a forearm to brace against their inevitable attacks. 

But it doesn't come. 

I peek up and see one lone Creeper screaming shrilly at the others, its voice distorted oddly. I gasp quietly when I realize what its doing.

The Creeper is protecting me. 

My mind swims with the revelation, so much so that I start to feel a bit dizzy. I groan, woozy, pressing the heel of my palm to my temple. The Creepers back off, mumbling angrily to themselves. The one that saved me towers over me, watching with a tilted head. 

It's a boy, and he looks strangely familiar. Well, except for the discerning spines sticking out from his body. He has clear blue eyes and long, knotted locks of what seems to be blond hair. I trace his face with my eyes, unable to make the connection of how I know him. Usually, it takes more than a decade for a Creeper to rot so the majority of them are actually recognizable. His clear blue eyes shimmer, as if he's holding back tears.

He squats at my feet, keeping a distance, trying not to scare me. I draw my knees in, watching him warily. His shirt is beyond salvation but from it he withdraws a tattered chain, with a familiar charm on the end. A Sterling silver heart, mottled with dirt and blood and god knows what else. Ever so daintily, the Creeper unlatches the locket, letting it swing open. He points vigorously to the photo and then jabs his finger at himself. Carefully, I get up and squint at the photo. It's two people, looking so happy it hurts. I crawl forward more so I can see the photo better. When I do, I let out a strangled sort of cry and fall again, the pain almost invisible. The Creeper watches me tenderly, a smile perched on his scabbed, dirty lips.

I tremble, tears falling like diamonds to my bare legs. This can't be possible. No, no, no, no. It's a trick. It has to.

Shaking violently, I look up into those blue eyes. Now I know where I've seen them. They're the eyes that comforted me, cried with me, the eyes that inhibit so many of my memories. 

The beautiful eyes I love so, so much. 

"Sam?"