This Is Not The End.

Chapter 21

I heard the child before I saw her, and when I saw her it was too late. She was on me.

I screamed and fumbled for my knife, before realising it was useless and trying to just get away from her. The girl clawed at my skin with her rabid nails and I kicked at her ribs, edging for some space to just scramble back. Managing to get my knife out, I let it slip through my fingers in my haste, just as the girl managed to draw blood.

Her nails ripped at my arm and I let out a cry at the feeling of my skin being torn back. At the smell of my blood, she started scratching at me like a wild dog, and I felt myself begin to give in.

My heart wrenched against its cage.

Fuck that. I slapped myself, mentally, and I pushed her back as hard as I dared, flakes of dead skin coming off in my hands. I felt my fingers wrap around something – a stick – and I clenched my jaw, putting all I could into hitting her with it once. Her mouth frothed as I watched her lurch back, giving me enough time to grab my knife and stagger to my feet. My head throbbed with the overwhelming crash of panic and fear, and I let myself glance down at the wound – I was immune, right? – before stumbling back as she came for me again.

Matted hair fell in her eyes and she reminded me of 'The Shining', just with chasms where her eyes would've been. Her teeth stuck out of her face at angles and I didn't want to think of how she'd managed to do it, but what struck me most was the drying blood at the corner of her mouth.

She hadn't bitten me, who else was around?

She lunged for me and I felt my knife break her skin before I realised I'd stabbed her. It didn't do much, but she let out a groan which ricocheted through my head and shocked my bones.

She grabbed at me again, and I didn't have anything left to do than run.

My feet hit the ground like war drums, but I felt her gain on me, screeching as I pushed myself to get further and further away.

Just a little more. I needed to be faster.

My heart rapped against my chest and I let my panicked breaths lead her. The knife still in her shoulder. I didn't want it back.

As I began to see people, I started screaming, trying to get their attention. A woman caught on and rushed her young son away before he could see, pushing past Beck in the process.

He let out a string of swears so profound I didn't even realise they could be said.

"Fuck it," he shouted, "Come on, dickhead!"

Allowing her to get his scent, she was torn between the two of us.

"Lead her away!" he called to me, "There's too many of us here!"

I could hardly hear him over my pulse in my ears, but I nodded to show I understood and doubled back on myself, matching his speed. He kept glancing back at the dead girl and grinning at me, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"You said you wanted to learn, right?"

"Fuck off!"

Not now. I couldn't form a coherent thought, whatever he was planning wouldn't work.

Looking at him, I realised I'd never understood how his brain worked, as it wasn't normal. He was as psychotic as the girl tailing me, just in a different way, a better way. Maybe that was the reason he'd made it so far.

The wall caught up to us and Beck tossed me his sunglasses, running a hand through his hair as he waited for the girl to realise where we were. We were too far from the main base for her to end up wandering back, but I still flinched whenever she took a step towards us.