I stay in the house for two more days, refusing to leave, just in case something with my health goes sideways. At some point I decided it would be a good idea to finally shower, I still had a bunch of dried blood on me, and smelled awful with all the sweating I did. I hated every second of that shower and almost regretted taking it. The thought of that icy water still sent a shiver down my spine. I raided the closet of the house I was staying in, I washed most of my clothes and took a pair of jeans that almost fit perfectly. Washed out black jeans, Sierra's shirt, my boots, beige leg warmers, and a large black denim jacket are what I decide to go with. I find a nice leather belt that I loop my dad's gun and knife onto, I pull my quiver on, my backpack, and pick up my bow. I had managed to make a hook and holder for my bow, using a hanger, belt, and a few other pieces. It wasn't super secure, but I was able to reach back to grab it easily, and put it back just as smoothly, well after I practice the motion about a dozen times.
The bite on my arm has a thick gross scab, and moving around that arm pulled the skin - it hurt. It didn't look too bad though, no signs of any infection and I cried all night last night because of it. I didn't change and I don't know why, but I'm not going to waste my life hiding. Will I always be immune? Or was it just a one-time thing? I don't know. I had a second chance, and I was going to do more than hide away.
Of course, there was always the chance I was going to turn randomly, though, every day that passes I feel more confident that for at least this time. I was immune to this bite, for whatever reason.
After I put my hair into a bun and pull my beanie on, I pack up the food and anything semi-useful into a few cardboard boxes I find. I take those out to the car, into the back seat, and get in to set out back into town.
Driving to town is nice because I can speed as fast as I want, I just have to swerve around the few cars and zombies in the middle of the road. Once I hit the town I turn left, just to get my barrings and to see what has changed in the past few days. And as I drive, I only notice that a few dead-dead zombies are laying on the side of some of the roads. As I pass a few houses, zombies are laid out in front of them, some houses have sheets placed over lumps. I could guess what was under those.
I drive around the north of the small town to the east, all the way to my house, avoiding the main street. There aren't any cars in the driveway, no one outside, and everything seems silent. Hopping out of the car I pull my bow and grab a carbon arrow. Did I mention I took about a dozen from Randy's? I figured I mine as well, he wasn't going to be using them.
It felt weird walking up to my own house, then knocking on my front door. I know Eric and the group wanted to stay in the firehouse, I just wanted to make sure no one was there. It would be ironic to survive a zombie bite to then just be shot in my own home because I didn't take a moment to announce myself.
I open the door and enter my house, it's dark - of course. The light coming in the door lets me see that the living room looks how I left it. I close the door and try the light switch, it unsurprisingly doesn't work. So instead I move over to the front window and peel off a side of the garbage bags, just enough so I can see.
A quick once through the house proves that no one messed with anything, that I noticed at least. The only things missing from my house are the food, and bathroom supplies. Which, I completely understand them taking. I don't stick around in my house long, I pack a bag then I leave a note on the counter to my parents, that I would be at the firehouse. Instead of taking the tiny car, I load everything into my mom's car, a Jeep Compass. It's not much more room in the actual car, but you can access the trunk from over the back seat, and it's twice the size of the other one.
It's also all black, which I appreciated.