A week later, and Gerard predicts that it's very early May. I'm not sure of the individual days, but the guys have been tracking the months as best they can. From the warming weather and the copious amounts of insects populating the back field, Gerard and Ray predict that summer will soon be upon us. In British terms, it means we might see one or two days of sunshine in amongst the rain and clouds.
The days are certainly getting warmer, and the sun takes its time to set in the evenings.
Frank and I settle back into a casual friendship. There's no mention of the shower incident, and slowly, Alissa calms down about it. The days pass quietly.
Mark gets more insistent about doing a supply run. He's out of games, and that's all he really has to pass the time. Finally, I concede and tell him we'll go out the next morning. My ribs are feeling much better after almost four weeks, so I feel confident enough to venture out with someone in tow.
I only ventured out with Frank to prove a point. I'd also known he'd pull his weight if there'd been a fight.
"Can I come with you tomorrow?" Frank asks while we're washing up after dinner.
"With Mark and I?" I arch an eyebrow, sceptical.
He shrugs, and hands me a bubbly plate to dry. "I need a few things."
I agree without argument. At least I know I'll have one useful person watching my back. Natalie catches me on the upstairs landing that evening, looking nervous.
"Can I come with you tomorrow?" She asks.
I blink, surprised at all these offers. No one has ever shown any eagerness to head out into the world.
"Sure." I say easily, "Uh... Frank is coming too."
Her mouth tightens, and her eyes narrow. I can tell she's tempted to rescind her request, but her narrow shoulders stiffen. She steels herself.
"No problem." But the words slither from between gritted teeth.
So the next morning I dodge my workout with Ray, and gather the party in the entrance hallway. Mark is yawning and groggy. Natalie is tense and agitated. Frank is at ease.
"Shotgun!" Mark yells.
I smother my grin as I catch sight of Frank and Natalie's immediate, identical grimace. I order Pandora into the backseat with them, so with her as a physical barrier it might stave off some of the animosity.
"I need a serious shop, Nevaeh." Mark says as he shuffles the CDs haphazardly. "Not some fucking supermarket. I need a proper game shop."
Sighing, I start the car and do as I'm told. The best way to shut him up is by catering to him.
The drive is a quiet one. There's absolute silence from the backseat, except from Pandora's occasional grumblings. I notice that neither Frank nor Nat are petting her; they can't even share that task civilly. Only Mark is entirely unburdened, singing along to the stereo.
Finally, I aim the car into a multi-storey car park, which leads directly into a mall. We won't find any food, but plenty of entertainment.
"You can carry the duffel." I throw the empty bag to Mark, who balks. "You wanted the trip, you carry the shit."
He grumbles, but throws it over his shoulder. Pandora rushes over, looking up as if to say 'neither of them scratched me the whole way!' Grinning, I tug on her ears.
I hand a baseball bat to Frank, who takes it with a nod. For Nat, a holster around her hips for a handgun, and a small axe that can be carried in one hand.
"How come she gets a gun and I don't?" Frank asks. He keeps pace with me, and his face is only playful.
Natalie bristles. "I have experience with one, do you?"
Frank snorts, "I'm from New Jersey."
"Like that means anything," Natalie scoffs, and stomps ahead of us.
"So hostile." Frank shakes his head at her back, but he's smirking.
"You're not exactly a charmer, Frankie." I elbow him.
He clasps a hand to his chest, scandalised. "Are you saying... I'm not a fucking sweetheart?"
I chuckle. "Your mother lied to you."
He rounds on me, mouth open. "Did you just call my mother a whore?"
I can't help the laugh that bursts out of me. He's giggling too. Mark and Natalie spin round to stare, because it's unlike me to be anything other than completely serious when we're out in the open. Nat is scowling, Mark looks confused.
"Get a room," Mark sneers.
Frank's eyebrows go up, and with a completely straight face, he says, "We already did."
I choke on a laugh, because he's said it in such a ridiculous way that it can't possibly be believed to be close to the truth. Still, his gaze snags mine. There's something heated there, something private, and my face grows warm. I look away first.
"Let's go." I urge roughly.
We head through a set of double doors, and a sign says the shops are a level down.
"He was joking, obviously." Natalie specifies as I turn towards the stairs. Her and Mark are behind me now, with Frank at the back. Pandora runs ahead.
Frank beats me to a reply. "Do you think so?"
I wince, and make my feet move faster.
Natalie's voice is clipped and strained. "Of course! Nevaeh would never-"
"Okay!" I hit the bottom stair and turn back, "Time to be quiet."
Mark hops down the last few steps, joining me on the new level. I cross to the arch which leads us out onto big walkways lined with shops. It's a big, fancy mall. Everything is glass and faux marble. The lights are out, of course, but most of the doors seem to be open. This is a good and bad thing; it means I won't have to break any glass, but it also means that corpses could have wandered into any one of the shops. In the dark, there's plenty of places to hide. Luckily, the sun is high and the ceilings are all glass.
"So, here's the plan-"
I spin around, expecting Mark, Natalie and Frank to be at my back, but it's just Mark.
Frank and Natalie are still by the stairs. Pandora is hovering near them, sensing the rising tension. I head back, with Mark hot on my heels and looking delighted.
"Guys, we really can't linger." I say quietly. In the empty space, the echoes will carry. We're going to have to be careful of noise. They barely notice me.
"It isn't true!" Natalie is trembling, staring at Frank with fury in her eyes.
"What's it got to do with you?" He demands, and there's still some amusement at the corners of his mouth. I can only imagine how infuriating his expression would be when he's already pissing you off.
"Too loud!" I hiss, wincing.
"I'm her best friend, you prick!" She snaps, whole face twisting.
"So?" He challenges, "Why does that matter? She can do what she wants with whoever she wants-"
"She wouldn't fucking touch you-" Nat snarls.
"Why don't you ask her?" Frank goads.
"Are you talking about me?" I'm astounded.
"Have you slept with him?" Natalie rounds on me, and there's betrayal in her eyes.
My mouth drops open, then snaps closed. My eyes narrow as irritation bubbles somewhere under my rib cage.
"What does it matter?" I tilt my head, dangerously calm.
"How could you?" She gapes, and seems genuinely crushed. "How could you do that?"
I'm absolutely floored. "I'm not saying I have. But fucking hell, Nat, there's more important things going on at the moment."
She stares, and I've never seen those big blue eyes look so desolate. So far away. Her face has gone pale and sickly, her freckles made stark against the grey backdrop. Her knuckles have whitened on her axe.
"This is all your fucking fault!" She spins back to Frank.
His disbelieving face, scrunched up ridiculously, is enough to make laughter well up in my chest. I force it down viciously. "How the fuck is that?" He scowls.
"Everything was fine before you came along!" She points wildly, and looks dangerously close to tears.
"Please, please keep it quiet!" I urge, motioning for calm.
"Nevaeh was left to do everything on her own before we came along!" Frank fires back.
"You both have to shut up!" I beg.
"Like you guys didn't immediately take advantage of her!" Natalie accuses, face twisting nastily. "As if she doesn't risk her life and her time for you too!"
Frank flinches back, and she's really touched a nerve. His face goes a dangerous shade of red, and his fists clench, and he opens his mouth.
I shove myself between their bodies. My shoulder barges Natalie back a step, and my hand lances out to brace against Frank's chest. "This stops now!" I snarl, as quietly as I can. I glare between the two of them. "Shout and scream all you want at home, but we cannot do this here! You're putting everyone at risk! Me and Mark-"
My voice dies as my eyes swivel. As I sweep the surrounding hallway... Mark isn't here.
"Mark?" I call, as loudly as I dare. Dread slams into my gut like a blow. I rush away from Natalie and Frank, edging around the corner to survey the level we're on. All the balconies are empty. No echo of footsteps, no noise of a fight. He's just... Gone.
I spin back to the guys, panic skyrocketing straight into the realm of hysteria.
"He probably got bored," Frank soothes, but his face has paled. "He'd have gone looking for games. We'll just-"
"We stay together. That's the rule. We always stay together." I say, numbly.
"He's fine." Natalie says urgently, stood at Frank's side. "We'll find him. We can go now."
"We can't just stomp out into the open," My voice is distant, my mind whirling. Every awful possibility takes root in the depths of my brain. I'm choked by the images.
"Then we'll stay behind." Frank suggests as I pace in front of him. "You go and get him, we'll wait here."
"That leaves you at risk," My eyes go to his face, to the worry in his eyes. "I can't risk you." My breath is coming in gasps. "Either of you."
Because I'll have to choose between them and Mark. I go for him, I leave them unprotected. I stay with them, I leave Mark to his fate. I take them with me, I risk their lives. The decision is... Painful. The decision leaves a stain on my soul.
"We go quickly and quietly." I'm sweating, barely able to breathe. My shoulders heave with the effort it takes to think through the solution. "You stay behind me."
They nod, looking frightened by my panic.
"Look," Frank says, and points to a sign that shows a list of shops in the mall. "Game store is on the ground floor."
We head for the stairs, Pandora tight to my side with the guys close behind my back. If I find Mark safe and well, I'll kick the shit out of him. But the awful truth is that there's never not been corpses in buildings like this. They are always full of bodies.
We hit the ground level.
There is an elevator, which will take us all back up to the parking garage. I test it, and it whirs open with a quiet ding. At least it's an easy way out for them if things go wrong.
"Get in." I say, voice made of ice and steel and fury. They - all three of them - rush inside. I strip my backpack and throw it to Natalie, who catches it. I keep only my rifle. "Keep the door open. Don't follow me. If I tell you to leave, do it."
Natalie nods, but Frank looks mutinous. There is unease and defiance in his clenched fists.
"Frank," I glare, "I can't worry about you too."
His shoulders slump. The fight drains out of him. "Go bring that asshole back."
Despite everything, his irritation makes me smile. I leave the two of them, and I don't say goodbye. Hopefully, this isn't a permanent separation. I'm safe with the knowledge that they've got a way out. If something awful happens to me, they'll get each other home.
In order to get to the game shop, I have to pass right out into the open. Cross the entire ground floor, in direct sunlight. I do it, of course I do, but my hands tremble the whole way. My stomach is in knots. There's bile in the back of my throat. Any number of corpses could be catching sight of me from inside the darkened stores. A whole horde could be nearby, and I wouldn't know until it was too late.
The doors of the shop are propped open, but the inside is drenched entirely in shadow. I can barely see the shelves, let alone bodies.
"Mark?" I hiss, as loudly as I dare. "Mark!"
I slink into the shop. I'm so tense and so full of panic that my muscles ache. I want to run, to search as quickly as I can, but I must keep quiet and calm and slow. I'm holding my rifle so tightly that my hands sting and my shoulder throbs.
There are cardboard cut-outs on almost every walkway. They're shaped like soldiers and aliens and monsters. Every single one of them gives me a fright as I move past shelves and displays and bookcases.
A body lurches around a shelf, tripping into the open aisle. It takes every ounce of strength not to pull the trigger immediately.
"Nevaeh?" Mark asks, shocked to find the barrel of a gun in his face.
"What the fuck are you doing?" I snarl.
He rolls his eyes and shifts the weight of the duffel bag on his shoulder. There's a line of cardboard soldiers behind him, drenched in shadow so I can't see any details. He's unharmed, completely nonchalant. I'm sure he can see the shine of sweat on my forehead in the gloom, but he's unmoved by my panic.
"I thought I'd save us time." He shrugs, "Couldn't be assed to listen to your boyfriend and girlfriend yell at each other."
"We'll talk about this in the car." I say, shaking with anger. "We're leaving."
"Nevaeh-" He whines.
"Fucking now!" I snap, viciously. I spin around to walk away from him, stomping back down the aisle. "Mark, I said-"
I turn back, rifle held loosely by my hip. Mark is slouching, head hanging as he follows at a snails pace. In the dark behind him... One of the cardboard cut-outs move.
It breaks away from it's fellow soldiers. It takes one stuttering, messy step forward. In the dark, I can see only the vague, demented outline. It is made of shadow and horror as it steadies itself, and then it leaps.
"Mark!" I scream.
My heart stutters in my chest. My lungs feel hollowed out and empty of air.
The rifle comes up, just as the corpse gets it's forearm around Mark's neck and drags him backwards. There's no clear shot. Mark topples, and the corpse goes down under him, and they grapple on the carpet.
I'm already running.
I don't reach him in time.
I'm just bending to grab for a limb, any limb, to yank and pull and wrench them apart. A body slams into me before I can help.
The blow takes me off my feet and flings me, like a rag doll, into a display. My ribs holler, and the pain makes my vision wobble dangerously. I tumble backwards, limbs splaying wide. The rifle clatters into the dark.
Instinct has me rolling to my knees, throwing myself away from the attacker as soon as I slam into the floor. A good job, too, because a corpse is snapping and clawing and hitting at me.
My hand flashes for my boot, for the hunting knife there. The blade comes up and slashes through the corpse's throat. The creature lets out a horrible, gurgling bellow, but reaches again for me. I drive the knife as hard as I can into the side of it's head.
The corpse flops. Dead.
I jump to my feet, desperate again. Mark is still on the carpet, trying to crabwalk on his elbows, rushing away from the corpse that is grappling at his ankles. He's shouting and hollering, fear making him loud.
Grabbing at his shoulders, I heave him back and up. We turn and run together. Mark is faster than me, adrenaline fuelling his sprint as we aim for the door. The corpse follows at a lurch behind us.
As we hit the open walkways, I hear the slap and pound of running feet. Screeches and screams fill the air.
"Hurry!" I urge. "The elevator!"
Natalie presses the button for the doors to close as soon as she spots us. A genius move, really. Mark slams into the elevator and immediately collapses. I dodge the closing doors, and snatch Nat's handgun from her belt and spin round. The echo of feet is right there, and the screams are loud enough that it hurts.
The first mottled face I spot gets a bullet between the eyes. The second gets the same. The third too, and then the doors glide closed with a pleasant ding!
Bodies slam into the closed doors, and the whole elevator rattles.
The elevator whirs upwards. The sensation makes my stomach swoop.
Frank's face fills up the entire width of my vision. "Where does it hurt?" He demands.
I'm left trembling as the fear drains out of my system.
I fend off Frank's hands, which are trying to inspect my face and my torn clothes and the new wounds. I round on Mark, furious, incensed, every thought in my brain drenched in scarlet.
"You absolute-" I snarl, and lunge for him. I manage to bunch my hands in his shirt and drag him to his feet, rattling his body like a toy, before anyone can stop me. Frank and Natalie are shouting. An arm goes around my waist, like a steel band, yanking. Natalie is scrabbling at my hands, trying to pry me off him. "You fucking asshole! We could have died! We could have all been killed!"
Pandora is whining, flinching back into a corner.
Frank lifts me off my feet and spins me away. I fight, struggling like a fish in his grip, wrenching and wriggling. I get in close enough to smack Mark across the face, and he stumbles back a step.
"You fucking bitch!" He shouts, hand to his cheek.
"Stop it, Nevaeh." Frank urges, and pins me back to the metal wall. His forearm braces across my chest, his hips pressed into my stomach. His body becomes a prison, pressing me tight to the wall. "It's not worth it! Calm down, love, breathe for me."
I do. With the weight of his body on mine, the warmth of it, I can't help but calm down. It feels like being wrapped in a blanket. He is entirely real, and this solid, heavy evidence of his safety and my safety is enough to force the anger out of my system. I breathe.
"Good woman." He soothes, as he feels the strength leak out of me. I turn mellow against him.
Frank backs up, but leaves a hand on my shoulder.
Natalie is calming Mark down, pressing him back into the opposite elevator wall.
Automatically, my gaze sweeps him up and down. Checking for injuries. He seems sweaty and red faced, but okay-
That's not true. His left trouser leg is ripped, and the flapping edges of the cloth are stained red. Through the hole, I can see a wound in the shape of a jagged half-moon.
"Mark," My voice is full of dread, and Frank's hand braces on my shoulder. "You're bleeding."
Natalie stiffens, and she immediately takes a hasty step back. Mark scoffs.
"It's nothing." He shrugs, and scrubs a hand through his thick dark hair.
"I need to see it." I insist.
"I told you it's nothing!" He shouts, immediately furious. His eyes are bloodshot. His hands are shaking. "Fuck off, Nevaeh! For once, just fuck off!"
"Hey!" Frank exclaims.
"Lift your trouser leg," My voice breaks. "Show me the wound. If it's nothing, let me see."
"Why should I?" He growls, and smacks a hand into the metal wall. "Why should I do anything you fucking say?"
Natalie's gun is still heavy in my palm. I lift it. I level it at his face. Natalie gasps, Frank goes quiet.
"You've put our lives in danger once already today." Though the gun is steady, my voice shakes. "I can't risk it again. Show me the wound, Mark."
Out of options, and after a moment of vicious glaring, he bends and pulls the ruined trouser leg up. He reveals the wound, swiping some of the blood away. Revealed to the open air, the indentation of teeth is obvious. They have sunk deep into the flesh. The wounds are open and leaking.
Frank doesn't move, doesn't waver, but Natalie slams back into the wall.
The elevator jolts, and dings, and the doors glide open. Nobody moves, not even Pandora.
"What're you going to do, Nevaeh?" Mark asks, and there's fury in his eyes. "Shoot me?"
I can't say I'm not tempted.
"Everyone out." I order, motioning to the door. Mark comes out last, like he's ready to chase after us if we run.
"I'll scream." Mark says suddenly, urgently. "If you leave me behind, I swear to God I'll scream, and that horde downstairs will be up here before you can get away."
It hadn't even occurred to me to leave him behind, but now that he's threatened me, I reckon he deserves it. My insides boil.
"Let's walk to the car."
We do. Slowly, quietly, we walk together. Frank, Natalie and Pandora go ahead. I stick beside Mark. I lower the gun, but I don't loosen my grip.
"What now?" Natalie asks when we get there. She's looking at Mark, full of sadness and fear. She doesn't reach to comfort him, though. She stays well back, like he's a bomb.
"I'm not staying behind." He says immediately.
"Give me your belt, Frank." He unbuckles it and hands it over. "You'll have to be restrained." I say to Mark.
He looks ready to argue, but my face must be warning enough.
He slides into the passenger seat. I loop the belt around the headrest and Mark's throat, and tighten it so it pins him there. I tie his wrists for good measure, just in case he turns on the journey and starts trying to claw at me.
I turn the car on and head for home. There's no music on the return journey. Natalie cries in the backseat. Frank hugs Pandora to his stomach.
Mark... Mark talks. Rather, he rants. He says awful things. He spits and hisses at me and tells me that this is my fault. He's dead because of me. Because I couldn't look after him. He talks the whole way, and I grit my teeth through the ordeal. I keep quiet through his tirade, so Frank and Natalie do as well. But Nat cries harder the longer he talks, and Frank temper swells until it seems like a physical presence.
I pull over on the side of the road, knowing that the house is only a few minutes away.
"What do we do now, Nevaeh?" Mark demands, and he's thrashing in his seat. "You going to take me into the woods and shoot me like a fucking animal? Will you execute me like you did Drew? Like your family?"
I squeeze my eyes closed and let my forehead rest against the steering wheel.
"What do you want, Mark?" I ask, as calmly as I can.
"I don't want to fucking die, you bitch!" He screams, and kicks out wildly. He can't get me, but the dashboard takes a battering.
"That's fine." I shrug, and lean back in my seat. "We'll just wait, then."
"Wait?" Mark gapes.
"We'll wait for you to turn." I say, casual. "You'll turn into a corpse. I think the process is mostly painless. You're probably halfway there already. I'll kill you then."
Mark shudders in revulsion. Tears spring into his eyes. He thrashes and kicks and heaves some more.
"I don't want to be a corpse." He pants, and collapses into the chair.
I don't reply.
"Nevaeh," he gasps, and reaches to grab for my arm. I yank free. "Nevaeh, please! I don't want to be like that!"
"What do you want from me, Mark?" I demand, spinning to look at him.
He's caught up like an animal. Hands bound, eyes wild, neck rubbed raw where he's been pulling against the belt. His dark skin is flushed scarlet, lit up like a beacon. He's sweating.
"Kill me." He begs, "Please, Nevaeh. Kill me."
"You want her to do you that favour after everything you've just fucking said?" Frank exclaims, a furious burst of feeling.
Mark whines and sobs. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it, any of it! I just-"
I'm already climbing out of the car. Natalie's handgun is in my hand and I walk around to retrieve Mark. Frank moves, reaching for the door handle, but I shake my head. This is a job I'll have to do alone.
Mark gets out of the car willingly, and holds still as I undo his wrists. He doesn't turn to say goodbye to Nat, just walks into the woods with his eyes on the floor. I follow at a distance, letting him have a few moments alone.
"Don't let them eat me." He calls, and stops. He's ready.
"Of course I won't." I promise, and move up behind him, just a step back.
My whole body shakes. My mind reels. My breathing rattles in my throat. The air is thick with the smell of damp grass and leaves and mud.
Mark isn't shaking, he's just breathing hard.
"I'm sorry, Nevaeh." He murmurs, "For being so awful. For all the burdens I left with you. I knew I was doing it, I knew what it was doing to you. I couldn't change though, even if I'd wanted to."
It's a shit apology, but I'll take it.
"Close your eyes." I say gently, "Think of something nice."
I wonder what he sees. I wonder what his mind drifts towards. Certainly not these past months, certainly not to us. Whatever it is, I hope it's drenched in happiness. I let him live in it for a few long moments.
I lift the gun and pull the trigger.
***
The car rumbles to a stop outside the house.
My stomach rolls, and I bail out of the car to puke on the driveway. I heave there on my knees, into the weeds at the base of the house. Hands fall against my back immediately, pulling my hair out of the way, rubbing between my shoulder blades.
The touch anchors me. I expect it to be Nat, but I'm not entirely surprised when I look down at the hand on my shoulder to find it has tattoos. He helps me up, and uses the hem of his shirt to wipe my jaw clean. Pandora whines and butts her head against my hip.
"None of that was your fault." Frank says fiercely. His eyes are ablaze with anger, his mouth set in a miserable line. "Don't think for a second that it was."
I nod, but I don't believe him.
I head for the front doors. I pause on the step, taking a moment to breathe.
"Alissa-" I murmur.
"-Is going to freak out." Nat agrees at my elbow.
"I'll stay at her front." I suggest, glancing at Nat. My face must beg her to take on some of the burden, at least. To help me out with the task ahead.
She clenches her jaw. "I'll circle round behind her."
Frank looks confused, but follows as we step inside.
They're in the living room. The noise spilling out of the doorway is joyful, casual. Alissa is laughing.
When I step into the room, the conversation dies a painful death.
"Nevaeh?!" Gerard jumps to his feet. "Are you okay? Jesus, are you hurt?"
I can't even look at him. I'm not sure what I look like; I know my clothes are torn and there's soot and blood and sweat all over me. Frank and Natalie are clean; I'm the only one that looks like I've been dragged through a warzone.
My eyes go to Alissa. She's wearing pyjamas, looking comfy. Her mousy hair is scraped back into a high ponytail. Her eyes flare wide, and she notes the number of people arriving home.
"Where's Mark?" She asks, quiet.
She climbs to her feet. Natalie edges into the room and starts towards Alissa in a wide, careful arc.
"Liss-" I murmur, hands held up. For calm, in surrender.
"Nevaeh," Her voice goes immediately shrill. She's looking everywhere, like Mark might have snuck in. "Where is he? Where the fuck is he?"
Gerard and Mikey back off, rushing to the other couch. Ray appears behind Frank, brought downstairs by the noise.
My chest heaves and my eyes sting as I watch the horror settle into her face.
"What did you do?" She whispers, and the words are drenched in venom. Hatred shines in her eyes, and it feels like a knife in the heart. "What did you do to him?"
"There was nothing to be done," I admit gently, "He... He was bitten, Alissa. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
She wrenches away, circling the sofa into the open space behind it. Her movements bring us closer together. I watch her work herself up into a fury.
I expect it when she lunges. Still, I don't move fast enough to block the punch she levels at my jaw. The thump of fist on bone is loud in the tense room. I stumble.
"Woah!" Gerard shouts, and jumps to his feet.
"How dare-!" Frank yells at the same time, and starts over.
Too late for anyone to help; Alissa lunges for the hunting knife in my boot. The same one I used to kill the corpse. I dodge her first wild swing, knock aside the second vicious stab, but the third time I'm unlucky. She slices into my shoulder, dragging the knife horizontally. It follows the arch of my collarbone, into the hollow under my shoulder, and off the top of my bicep. Blood spills down my shirt and arm within seconds.
"Alissa!" Mikey gasps, shocked.
She doesn't hear him. She lunges for me again, eyes on fire, and Natalie catches her wrist in time to stop the next blow. Alissa yanks at Nat, who careens forward, and they tumble immediately into me. I go down under their weight, and we end up in a pile on the floor.
"You killed him!" Alissa screams, and keeps screaming, and the knife arcs down. "You promised! You fucking promised!"
I dodge it, and it ends up stuck in the floor next to my face. She smacks and yanks and punches at me, and I do my best to fend her off. Nat is yanking on her waist, but Alissa is incensed.
"Stop it, Liss! Stop!" I holler, grabbing at her wrists, trying to hold her still. "Look at me!" I bellow, right in her face. I grab hold of her head, my fingers digging into her skull. She falls still. She's panting, and sweating, looking pale and sickly. I'm sure I look awful too. There's blood on my hands, and I get blood on her cheek as I press my palms to her skin. She's crying, but I'm not. "He wandered off, Liss. I went after him, do you hear me?" I give her a rough shake, and her head rattles. "I went after him and it was too fucking late. There was nothing to be done!"
She releases a sound, like a wounded animal wailing against the certainty of death. She collapses over me, head in my neck, and there she sobs. Her tears come hot and fast and heavy, and soaks me just as quickly as the blood soaks my left side.
Natalie folds herself over Alissa's back, and she's sobbing too. Their combined weight presses on my chest, making the wound throb. I feel nothing as they cry - just a cold, distant sort of emptiness. Hollow. Like a passing comet, far-off and unreachable.
"Let's go." I hear Gerard murmur, and he's herding Mikey and Ray out of the door.
"She's fucking hurt-" Frank struggles against his hands. "We can't just-!"
"Leave them to it, Frank." Gerard hisses, and pushes at him. Frank must listen, because there's no more noise.
I lay underneath Alissa and Natalie and I let them crush me.
"Where is he?" Alissa hiccups, after a long while. She pulls back, looks down at me. "Where did you put him? I want to say goodbye."
"I know where," Nat murmurs, and helps Alissa up. "I'll show you."
They leave. They don't stop to help me up. Alissa doesn't even look down at the pool of blood I'm lying in.
As soon as the front door closes, shoes tap on the floor towards me. There's a gasp, and the footsteps speed up.
"Nevaeh?" Gerard squeaks, "Oh god, honey, are you okay?"
"What a stupid question to ask," Frank's voice snaps.
I'm lifted into a sitting position, and then up onto my feet. My eyes flutter open, just as I'm hoisted up into a pair of arms.
"I can walk." I mutter, and struggle weakly.
"It's fine." He replies, voice stiff as his arms tighten around me.
Frank carries me up the stairs and into my bathroom. I'm lowered gently onto the bathroom counter and handed a glass of water. While I sip, he leans against the opposite wall and stares. His arms are over his chest, eyes dark with worry and anger. In the light of the fluorescent bathroom bulb, his lip and nose rings flash.
"Are you going to yell at me?" I ask, casual. The water has cleared my vision and fended off my pounding headache.
Frank's face smooths into calm. His lips tilt up. "No. Not today. I've promised myself not to shout at you again."
"That's a steep promise," I muse, and I'm twisting my wrist to inspect the streaks of blood down my arm. My shirt is soaked through down my left side. It's drying in long strips of rusty flakes. "Does that mean I'm not allowed to annoy you?"
The laugh that rasps out of him is quiet and far off, but it's a laugh. "You're under no obligation. Plus, you never actually annoy me." I make a face, and he grins. "Okay, so my stress levels would probably decrease if you weren't so devoid of self-preservation. Also, if you learned to tell people to fuck off, that would also improve my quality of life."
I can't coax a smile onto my face. "If I'd told Mark to fuck off... He'd still be alive."
Frank's face crumples, and he crosses the room in a flash to take my face in his hands. He's gentle and his palms are warm, and he crowds in so close our noses almost touch.
"Today wasn't your fault, do you hear me?" Despite his gentle hands, his voice is fierce. He chokes on his emotion. "We distracted you. Natalie and I-..." He shakes his head, heaves a breath. "I goaded her. Nat blew up. Mark pissed off when he knew he shouldn't have. You went after him. You got him back. When he asked you to end his suffering, you fucking did it. If anyone is to blame for today, you're the last on the list."
My eyes shine, and my chest aches, and when I start to cry he gathers me close and doesn't let go.
***
I shower by myself - with Frank waiting in the bedroom - and when I've changed as best as I can, Frank comes back in to stitch up my shoulder. It's a deep, nasty wound that stings every time I shift, but it's a clean cut. It'll be a thick scar, but there's nothing to be done about that.
We head back downstairs together.
"Nevaeh," Gerard breathes a sigh of relief, and rushes over to enfold me in a hug.
It's a strong, warm embrace, and I'm grateful for his sympathy. Frank and I tell the guys what happened, and though there is a lot of sadness and horror over Mark's death... None of them turn to blame me. In fact, I get more hugs after the story has been told.
"You're not... Angry?" I ask, astounded. Ray's arms unravel from around my shoulders, and he holds me at an arms length so he can frown.
"Why would we be angry?" Mikey asks, head tilting.
I wince. "I promised to protect you all. I broke that promise today."
Frank shakes his head, scoffs, and has to walk away. Gerard frowns at Frank's back, then turns raised eyebrows on me.
"Honey," He clasps my hand, and raises it to press a kiss on my knuckles. "Our lives aren't yours to carry or to save. I know it must feel that way, but we're responsible for ourselves. You can throw yourself into battles all you like, sometimes... Awful things happen, and there's nothing anyone can do." He smiles, a little sad, and folds me again into a long hug. "But you're my fucking hero for trying."
My eyes prickle again, but I hide my face in Gerard's chest and wipe them away on his shirt. No more crying for today.
I wait for Alissa and Natalie to arrive home before I deliver the news to everyone. Dinner is well under way, and it's a quiet, sombre affair. Alissa won't look at me, Natalie is still sniffling. Everyone is walking on eggshells.
"Early start tomorrow for everyone," I announce. Eyes swivel round to me. "We're leaving."