Vote. Comment. Enjoy!
-
-
-
-Abigail's POV-
We have been walking for maybe thirty minutes when I stumble over a root in the ground. Clumsy me, I know. I slam into the ground, my palms pierced by brush and rubble, my cheeks flushing in hot humility. Jared, who has been walking in front of me, turns, his eyes bright with concern as he kneels down beside me, cupping my slashed hands in his own.
"I'm so sorry," I murmur, as he brushes my palms clear. His eyes lock onto my, questioning my apology, silently telling me that I didn't need to say anything.
"You're fine," he whispers back at me, grinning a little as he rips a small swab of cloth from his shirt and ties it around my right hand. When he is done, he gives me another questioning look, this time asking me if it feels okay. I nod, my eyes locked on his.
And then, from in front of us, I hear someone mutter.
"God."
We both jump, looking around to see Luke rolling his eyes at us, his arms crossed as he lounges against a tree. He's half smirking at us, half glaring.
"Sorry," I sheepishly mutter again. I hate apologizing to him, but I was being an idiot. We have a job to get done and I have no right to waste time on my own deluded imagination.
Jared reaches a hand to help me up, but I ignore it. I don't want any more crass reactions from Luke. It was bad enough what he did to me during that stupid game of truth or dare.
As we set off again, I find myself revisiting that evening in my mind. Luke's dare for Jared was totally overstepping it. Being manipulated makes me so angry- most of all, when it's by some pompous jerk who has been incredibly hostile towards my friends and me ever since me met. But when Jared kissed me, I ... well... I wasn't ready. I know my heart had always skipped whenever I thought about it, but, well, this wasn't how I imagined it. Not in front of strangers, not even in front of Jenson. And certainly not on some whim from an egotistical jerk who was only using us for entertainment. I feel my face darken with rage, my eyes boring holes into the back of the blonde boy at the front of our little procession. Who does he think he is? He's acting like a celebrity, like a stupid superstar. He isn't that attractive anyways, no matter what Kyleigh sees in him (or, well, what she subconsciously saw). That softens my glare, and I even smile a little, thinking of the sweet girl who didn't even see how hopelessly enamored this idiot was with her. It is almost enough to make me laugh.
All of a sudden, I slam into Jared's back. My mind has gone completely off the rails, and I look around in shock at the landscape that surrounds us. My breath catches as I take it in. There are gorgeous, emerald hills grown tall with waist high wildflowers and weeds, surrounded by wood and wire fences.
My mouth falls open with the beauty of the scene, remembering old dreams of running through fields like this like some Jane Austen character. I take a step towards this vision, when Calum swung his hand out and dragged me by the elbow back to the tree line. I look at him in annoyance and wrench my arm out of his grasp, but his eyes are faceted on something over the horizon. I turn, and my heart drops as I see the hoard of dark shapes topping a hill.
"We need to move. Now," Luke hisses at us.
"There's a farmhouse just east of here, I think," Jared whispers as loudly as he dares back at him.
"How do you know that?" Calum eyes him suspiciously.
"Jenson and I passed it when we were scavenging last week. It means the town is only a few more miles from here, if your map is accurate at all."
Luke glances at the hoard. Its about a quarter mile from where we stand, hidden by the trees. He appears to be calculating the risk in his head, but he finally gives Jared a swift nod, giving him permission to take the lead.
Jared nods back, his mouth set in determination. As he begins to edge around the open field, we all start to prepare for an attack. Silently, I pull my bow from over my shoulder and check the tension, tightening the string and pulling a single, black-fetched arrow from my quiver. I set it into the cord and hold it loosely by my side, me head up and eyes alert. Luke's knuckles are white as he clenches a wickedly curved knife, the tip pointed to the earth. Calum and Jared carry knives, too. Each have blades as long as my forearm, but Jared's has a cruel serration near the handle. Our steps are quite and certain, but I hear a hitch in my own breath and a matching one in Calum's from in front of me.
A sudden crashing startles all of us as a zombie appears seemingly out of nowhere. Its grey hand takes a swing for Jared's head, but he rolls to the ground and my arrow pierces the creature straight through the left eye. It stumbles, uttering a gut-wrenching moan, and falls back. I already have another arrow drawn, and I scan the trees beside us, looking for any other signs of life. Or, well, death, I guess?
Jared stands up, brushing off his jeans with his free hand. He turns and mouths "thank you". I give him a curt nod before returning to checking the woods. Then, I feel a firm hand on my back and turn my head to see Luke motioning desperately with his other hand towards the dark mass of zombies we had seen before. My blood runs cold as I see them storming across the hills towards us. There are far too many.
"Run!" I yell.
Jared sees them too and takes off. We sprint behind him, crashing through the underbrush, no longer afraid of making any noise. Another zombie appears in front of him, and I have to stumble to a stop to get a good shot. My arrow flies true and hits the zombie in the neck. It falls with another cry of guttural agony, and Jared nearly trips over its now lifeless body. As I pass the remains, I reach out and snag my arrow, twisting it so it releases from the desecrated flesh.
Two more walkers cross our path, and both I take down with my bow. In the distance, I can start to see the outline of what I hope is the farmhouse hidden in the trees on the other side of the field, and I pray that it's close enough. Then, all of a sudden, there's a scream from behind me and I hear the impact of a body hitting the ground. I turn to see Calum, writhing on the ground, clutching his knee to his chest.
"Jared!" I scream, frantic to stop him and get help. Luke is already there, bending over his friend, telling him it will all be alright. Jared rushes to his side, too, and swings the injured boy's arm across his shoulders. Luke takes the other arm, and they lift Calum together. Then I see the hoard. Its maybe 1000 feet behind us, and it is not slowing down. We will not be able to make it now. I notch an arrow and take aim at the approaching monsters. The fletching sings as it travels through the air, hitting a zombie in the stomach, making it drop.
There are too many. There are way too many. My mind starts racing in desperation.
"Abby, come on!" I know its Jared's voice; I know I'm supposed to run. But if I run, they die. If I run, he could die.
There are too many.
"Come on!" He shouts again, but he sees what I'm thinking. He knows I'm not going to lose him this way.
"Go!" I scream. There are too many.
"She'll be fine. She's capable enough" I hear from behind me. I wish I could thank Luke for saying that, for giving Jared a reason to believe that I will be alright. With an overwhelming flood of relief, I hear them begin to move away. It's a shuffle, but its fast enough that I will be able to protect them.
There are too many.
I draw my next arrow to my ear, feeling the soft kiss of the fletching graze my cheek. I release and the tip slices through the back of the zombie's throat, dropping it instantly. Another takes a shot through the eye, and the next is felled by a shot to the neck. My arm strains as it pulls back the string, and in a matter of seconds, three more lie motionless in the wildflowers. But they are still coming.
There are too many.
My heart beats harder now, and I feel panic starting to creep into my consciousness. I suppress it as best I can, but death is looming. And worse than death.
I risk a look behind me and see the guys struggling up the hill through the tangle of wildflowers. They are making good time though. I begin to feel a little hope, when I experience a sharp blow to my jaw. I stumble backwards, my arms spinning to regain balance. Like an idiot, I had forgotten to check the woods on my left and I am forced to retreat into the open field, losing any cover I had. I use my bow like a quarterstaff, slamming it with all of my might into the side of the creature's face. Blood and other, much more vile debris spray from its head, but Jared's makeshift bandage rips from my hand. I gasp and stumble back at the sudden pain now that I have lost what little cushion I had. I try to string another arrow, but the cord cuts deep into my hand. My eyes water as I drop the bow and arrow in shock. I trip over my own feet, scrambling to get them, and by the time they are back in my hands, the hoard is almost upon me.
I shout in horror and struggle to retreat. As a regain my footing, I turn towards the farmhouse, but I cannot see the boys anywhere. I hope to God that they're safe as I turn and run as fast as I can through the grass. I trip for the thousandth time that day, fall flat on my face. The stone I struck is startlingly glossy, showing my distorted, terrified face in its surface. Scrawled across my reflection are a series of digits, and I suddenly recognize them as years. Years. Black marble. This isn't a field, it's a graveyard.
I fumble in the grass, trying to stand. I look up the hill and see that my suspicions must be correct-what we had thought was a farmhouse has a large steeple and the glitter of stained glass. I run. I dare not look behind me, but I hear crashes of footfalls and groaning following me. My feet strike at the earth as I do my best to avoid the tombstones in my path. Hope surges in me as I crest the hill, and rush to the front door of the church. I swing it open and hurl myself inside.
The door slams behind me, and there's a loud bang. I turn to see Luke has not only locked the door but has shoved a long pew in front of it. I am suddenly engulfed in a hug that nearly squeezes the life out of me. Jared holds me, holds me like he is never thought he would see me again, like he will never let me go. I break. My body goes slack, and I begin to tremble from the fear of it all. I sink into him, my arms rapping around him like he is the only real thing left in this world. I feel tears leak from my eyes and press my face in his chest, burying my pain and terror into his shirt. He feels solid and strong and everything I need right now. He's murmuring into my hair, but all I can hear is "It's okay. You're okay."
I pull back slowly, reluctantly. Brushing the back of my hand across my cheeks, I turn to face the others. Luke's back is to me. He stares out of the glass, his fists clenching and unclenching. Calum is sitting on one of the pews, his leg stretched out in front of him. He doesn't look too bad, and as I near him, I see I'm right. His knee is already swelling a lot, but I recognize the signs. His kneecap is out of line with the rest of his leg. It's dislocated, but that's an easy fix. He just won't be able to walk on it for a bit. My fear subsides as I see that there is another person here who needs help more than I do.
"Hey," Calum looks up at me. I meet his eyes as he says, "Thanks for holding them off. You didn't need to do that."
I smile at his kindness. "You're welcome." I wink, and in a quick motion, I raise his leg with one hand and slam his kneecap back into position with the other.
He launches himself away from me, letting out a piercing scream, and almost falls off the bench. I take a swift step back to avoid his thrashing and meet his angry glare with an even glance of my own.
"The hell?" he yells at me.
"I fixed your leg," I say, keeping my voice even to calm him down.
"The hell you did!" He looks at me furiously. I guess my tone didn't work.
"Cool it. She was just helping you," Luke calls from his position by the door, not even turning around. How does he know?
Calum cautiously tries to bend his leg, and when he succeeds - if barely - he smiles ruefully up at me.
"Thanks, I mean."
"No problem. I've had to do that Jenson before, and he screams a lot louder than you."
I turn back to Jared. And see he's grinning at me like an idiot.
"You always have such a good bedside manner. If I didn't know better, I'd think you enjoyed causing pain."
"What do you mean? I'm just trying to be patient."
"I dunno, you just look like you enjoy yourself."
Its times like these when I wish I could raise a single eyebrow but have to make do with both. I punch him lightly on the arm, then snort softly as he mockingly crumples and winces in pain. But he stops when he sees me unfold my hand, reaching out to hold it and check the cut.
"What happened?" he asks, his brow creasing with worry. It's worse since I used the bow, cut much deeper than before.
"I guess I got careless."
He tears another strip from his shirt, wrapping it gingerly around my hand. He secures the knot, but his hands remain, carefully, gently caressing my fingers with his own. I feel my cheeks heat and turn from him in embarrassment, causing him to drop my hand.
"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean -" he starts, but Luke interrupts him from beside the door.
"Alright. We can't stay here forever, so we need to figure a way back to the trains. Anyone got ideas?"
We stand in silence for a moment until Calum calls out in a small voice, "I'd really like to not be left behind."
I almost laugh at the ridiculousness of that sentiment when I see that he's entirely serious. And, what's worse, he's embarrassed to be asking for us to keep him alive.
"Don't be an idiot," Luke says, still beside the door. "No one is getting deserted."
We stand in silence, listening to the thuds and moans from behind the solid wood doors.
I start scanning the sanctuary for anything that might be of any assistance. It's been deserted for an incredibly long time. The aisle is littered with dust and debris left by rodents and time. The building itself is miniscule, but, I suppose, perfect for a small town. It could sit, maybe, fifty people with a little extra space. The ceilings are vaulted with high peaks, each set with a dilapidated fan. The pulpit at the end is bare of decoration, save a simple, wooden crucifix hanging from the wall.
I start to walk towards it, searching for something that might help us reach safety. I turn to search the rest of the group, letting my eyes wander across the front of the church. A single set of stairs creeps up to above the main entrance, to . . . somewhere.
"Wait a sec," I say, and hasten to them. At the top, I see exactly what I was hoping for.
When I return to the group, I find myself taking on a lecturing tone.
"Ok. So, I came up with something that should stall them, but we need another way out. There must be a fire exit of some sort near the back. You two," I motion to Luke and Jared, "can help Calum out that way. I'll join you in a minute after you start moving."
"No." Jared says.
"What?" I say, thoroughly confused.
"You are not staying behind again. If anyone stays, its me." He crosses his arms, glaring in a way that dares me to refuse him. So, I do.
"I'm not strong enough to lift Calum. You're not nimble enough to do what I need to. My bow needs two hands to operate, so I couldn't carry anyone. Do you want me to keep going?"
"You can't use your bow with your hand like that. Please, let me do whatever it is you're planning." He's pleading now, desperate to keep me out of harms way.
Luke steps up, and I know he's about to offer his own assistance when there is an awful, grinding, splintering sound from the main door. They've made it through the door!
"Run!" I command, shoving Jared towards Calum. He gives me one furious, hopeless look before sprinting to the boy on the pew and grabbing his arm to help him up. My last look at them is Luke and Jared carrying a terrified Calum towards the back of the church as walkers begin to pour in the entrance. In this place of prayer, I pray that they find a way out. I sprint up the stairs, nearly stumbling at the top.
The room up here is tall, maybe around fifteen feet. There's a rope dangling in the center, attached to a huge bell. If there is one thing I've learned in the past few months, its that zombies cannot stand loud sounds- they become immobile. I launch myself at the cable, heaving myself to the ground. An earth-shattering CLANG rips through my entire being. My ears begin to ring as I repeat the action, jumping as high as I can to haul the rope back to the rickety, wooden floor. Every time I land on it, I feel it bend and assume it must be creaking beneath me. I look up at the massive bell and have another brain wave. The bell is fastened to its brace by several straps of leather, weakened by age and lack of upkeep. I give the cord one final tug, slamming my heals into the floor, which buckles at my sudden weight. I race to a nearby windowsill, which is at a height with the top of my head, pulling myself up as best I can. I straighten to a standing position when I reach the top, then leap with all my might, just barely grabbing hold of the bell brace, but slamming my head into the side of the bell. I hang there, dazed for a moment. When I recover enough to remember where I am, I heave myself until I'm straddling the brace above the bell. I unsheathe my small knife from its place on my belt and begin to saw at the leather. I only need to cut the first strap when the weight of the bell takes over. It tumbles through the air, desolating the already fragile floor beneath it, and cascades into the entry hall below. With a last loud CLANG, it slams into the hoard of stunned walkers that have just broken through the front door below.
I dangle from the brace, my arms and legs wrapped tightly as it swings violently to-and-fro over the now gapping hole in the floor. My stomach turns at the sight below- rotten flesh torn and bloody, bones jutting from every angle, blood and bile flooding the entrance hall.
I slowly gain my balance as the swaying subsides and sheath my knife. I use the two ropes holding the brace secure to the ceiling to pull myself upright, standing like an acrobat on a swing, ready to fly. I start to lean towards the window, using my body to maneuver the brace backwards and forwards until I launch myself back at the windowsill. I land gracefully, alighting on the sill in a kneel. The tree I saw growing just outside rakes its branches eerily across the pane. I pull my knife out again, and jam it between the glass and the frame, wrenching the glass from its position. It's a small whole, but I stuff myself through it, bow and all. The sill on the other side is much smaller, barely large enough to find purchase on. I grasp a bow of the tree and hoist myself onto it. I might be clumsy on the ground, but in the air, I never fall. With my knife put back in its place, I begin to scale the tree. It's a giant oak, so vast that I cannot guess its age. It spans across the front and side of the church, its foliage crossing paths with other trees of a similar height. I pass from limb to limb, tree to tree. I never look down, using the softening sounds of groans to guide me from the church. For a moment, I feel the familiar rhythm of climbing sooth my raging adrenaline, then I begin to work my way north, towards the most likely path the boys would have taken away from the sanctuary. I haven't gone too far, so it isn't long before I hear the shuffling of boots across the earth. I climb down the tree, stopping a good fifteen feet above the ground to observe the source of the sound.
Jared and Luke, hauling a wincing Calum between them, come into view. I descend the last few feet, dropping down right in front of them.
"Jesus, Abigail!" Luke huffs, making me realize how quiet I had been.
"No," I grin, "He was back there." I point towards the direction they came from.
Luke rolls his eyes at me, then gives me a quick once over to check that I'm ok. I seem to pass his examination because he turns to Jared.
"Any idea where we are, pretty boy?"
Jared, who has been laughing silently at Luke's reaction to my sudden appearance, drops his smirk and begins to scan the trees.
"I'm sorry, I have no idea."
I look around for a second, then point to my right.
"That way's southeast, which is towards the camp. But we need to go south," I point behind myself, "to avoid the graveyard."
Luke raises his eyebrows at me.
Jared interjects, "Yeah, no, you should trust her. She's got a compass in her head."
Luke shrugs, then readjusts Calum on his shoulder.
"South it is. Lead the way, Abby."
I nod, taking my position at the head of the party, knife in hand, ready for the next threat.