After the incident, Stephen decides that it's best to go back to the Alma. I'm thankful, because I ache all over and don't want to go into another house. Isaac has to be careful when carrying me due to the open wounds on my arms and legs. Technically, I'm infected. If our wounds mix, he could become infected as well.
No one asks what happened. Stephen looks me up and down carefully before we leave. How often does this happen that he isn't even concerned?
The walk back takes twice as long as it did the first time. Isaac carries me most of the way, but eventually, he tires out. Then, we link arms and hobble together. Some of our delay is Justin and Clare, though, because they're loaded down with food and medicine. If we ignore what happened in the basement, it was a successful trip.
Ollie opens the door for us, counting heads as we walk in. She presses a finger to her lips and motions us back to the couch area. As we pass by the sleeping bags, I notice that most of them are full. A light snoring fills the air. When we make it to the meeting place, Mandy and Belle lay curled up on a couch together.
"I'm glad to see you all made it back in one peice," Ollie whispers as she pulls me down into a seat. "Let's clean you up before you head to bed."
Justin brings a white first-aid box and sits it beside Ollie before disappearing. She kneels down before me and gets to work disinfecting me.
"Do you want to talk about what happened?" She doesn't look up as she asks. Instead, she watches her hands. I wince as she dabs alcohol on my leg. "You don't have to, but maybe it'll distract you from the pain."
"I forgot to check a room." I dig my nails into the couch and throw my head back. Her gloved hand presses on my wound, and pain almost blinds me. "Two Infected. Almost killed me."
"But it didn't." Ollie laughs. "It could have been a lot worse. See what I meant when I said that it's good you're immune?"
"Yeah." I grit my teeth. "Wouldn't have mattered if I had just—" I gasp for breath. "—checked every room."
"Everyone makes mistakes. It was your first day on the job. No one expected you to be perfect." She rips off a piece of tape and seals the gauze wrapped around my leg. Then, she moves up to my neck, pushing my head aside. "You brought everyone home safe. That's all I'm asking of you. Help me protect and provide for my people."
She finishes the cuts on my neck and arm quickly and then scoots over to deal with Isaac.
"I should change clothes," I say, pushing myself into a standing position.
"Help yourself." Ollie points absentmindedly towards a shelf behind us. Her tongue pokes out of the side of her mouth as she opens up a bandage. "Get him some while you're there."
I nod and walk to the shelf. It doesn't have a huge selection, but luckily for me, I'm an average sized person. I grab some new jeans and a t-shirt for me and Isaac then go back. Ollie's finished and standing over Isaac.
"He's all clear. Once you change clothes, you can head to the bathroom and wash up. You probably don't want to sleep with gross hair and smelling like death." Ollie grimaces and points once again. "Bathrooms are to the left of the front door."
"You have running water?" I ask in shock.
Ollie laughs and shakes her head. "Sorry. No showers. But someone does run and fill buckets with water every other day. Just enough to rinse off." She pats Isaac on the shoulder with a yawn. "Goodnight, y'all. See you in the morning."
With that, she leaves us alone in the shadowy semi-circle. Isaac offers me a hand, and together we walk to the bathrooms. Not a single word passes between us. The bond is clear, though, and strong. We don't need to talk. The people here can't begin to comprehend the demons we conquered tonight.
By the time I'm changed and washed off, Isaac is long finished. Hair still dripping, I find him unrolling our sleeping bags in a corner of the sleeping area.
"Will this be alright? There isn't a lot of room." He flattens out my sleeping bag and sits back on his feet.
"It's fine. Thanks, Isaac."
He's right, though. The space he chose for us to sleep in is tiny. But there wasn't a lot to choose from. It looks like we'll be sleeping with our heads touching; that's how little room we have.
I'm too tired to complain, though. Squeezing Isaac's hand, I slip into the sleeping back and listen as he does the same in his own.
"Goodnight, Jay," he whispers, his hair tickling my head.
"Night," I reply. I roll over and add, "If you need me tonight, I'm right here."
Isaac sighs. "I appreciate that, but I think I'm too tired to have my nightmares. At least I hope I am."
"Me too."
I wait for him to say something else, but soon, his snoring is all I hear.
If Isaac hadn't been there tonight, those Infected would have devoured me. He's capable of more than I give him credit for. Everyday, I learn something new about him, and it amazes me. Why would he do that for me? To step over fears that have crippled him for years just for a girl he's known for a few months?
Maybe he did it for the same reason that I did. Whatever that is. My impulsive actions were without reason. I just didn't want anything bad to happen to Isaac. A world without him in it isn't one I want to live in.
I close my eyes, trying to let the fatigue take over. The floor's hard, though, and cold. Blood pulses through my leg, and the dull pain continues to ache in my neck. The Texas sized bruise on my forehead pounds. Isaac snores above me. I glance up at him to see his mouth hanging open just a little.
How does he manage to find peace so easily? Asleep, his face seems to be devoid of pain. The tragedy of his life has been erased. How? I can't seem to tame the nagging dragons of doubt that breathe fire down the back of my neck, but Isaac can miraculously calm a hurricane of trauma.
For a moment, I stare at his face. My breathing syncs with his, and I begin to relax.
What would Isaac do? He would find the silver lining; that's what he's notoriously good at. But what's so great about sleeping on an ice-cold floor?
Well, the people around me are generally happy. They might be serious, but they aren't dragging themselves around. The floor also doubles as an air conditioner, so I won't get hot in the middle of the night. Isaac's right beside me. I survived an encounter with Infected. This is the farthest I've ever been from the compound.
The list becomes easier and easier as I start to list good things. Halfway through the process, sleep catches up with me. Peaceful, deep, dreamless sleep.
##
"Jay."
The soft voice in my ear is one I've not heard in a long time. When I was little, it existed solely in dreams as fairies or angels. In the darkness behind my eyes, I attempt to match a face to the sound.
But that voice is ice cream on hot September days. It's water slides and chlorine hands, freshly iced cupcakes served on a red and white picnic blanket, steaming cups of hot cocoa around a fire pit, a stuffed toy rabbit made of worn velvet, warm hugs and satin fingers brushed over scraped knees.
It's every good memory I have of her.
My mom.
"Honey, you need to wake up. It's time to eat, and I need to change your bandages."
Food. Oh, man, I would really like some food.
I pry my eyes open and stretch my toes deep down in the sleeping bag. My back cracks satisfactorily as I sit up. Mandy looms over me. The happy haze of my memory disappears instantly. Everything from the day before comes crashing down. I scowl at her and rub the sleep out of my eyes.
"I can change them myself," I mumble sleepily. I try to stand up, but all I can do is scoot and wince.
"Alright. Whatever." She sits back on her legs. "Do it on your own then. Here's your breakfast." She hands me a rectangular package no bigger than my hand. "It's not much, but that's all we got."
I don't waste any time reading the package. Instead, I tear into it—inhaling instead of eating. It doesn't do much for my hunger, but I won't complain. Anything is better than nothing.
"Ollie told me about what happened last night," Mandy says, handing me the first aid kit. "I used to do that all the time. I got confident and careless. Ollie thought I was going to get myself killed. Almost did a few times."
I ruffle through the medical supplies and fight the urge to roll my eyes. There's no antibacterial cream; most of those over-the-counter products would have expired years ago. We manufacture medicine in Compound 4, but the people here don't have access to it. I settle for some new gauze and alcohol wipes.
"This one time, Stephen and I were searching a house town on Oak Street, and I ran through too fast. Forgot to check a closet in one of the bedrooms. I'll never forget Stephen's face when that Infected crawled out on him and nearly—"
"Look." I hold a hand up to interrupt her. "I really don't care. Sorry."
Mandy scoffs at me. "You don't have to be so rude. I apologized for not coming for you. It wasn't safe."
"An apology isn't enough. I think you know that."
"I do! But what am I supposed to do, Jay? I'm trying."
"Well, stop." I throw the rest of the gauze into the box and roll my pants leg down. The skin is pink and hot to the touch, but the swelling has drastically gone down. "We don't have to be friends. Let's just do our jobs and co-exist."
Mandy sighs. "It's too early to argue with you. I came to check on you, not be snapped at."
"I'm fine." I peel the bandages off my neck. The cuts are still tender, but they've scabbed over. So, I don't bother rebandaging them. "We all made it back in one piece. That's what matters."
Mandy nods, thinking before she adds, "We really don't run into Infected as often as we used to. Once they leave their nests, they spread out pretty thin. Plus, there aren't as many around as there used to be."
"What do you mean there aren't as many?" I can only imagine what it was like when there was more around.
"When the outbreak first started, you couldn't step foot outside the compounds. You would have been completely exposed, unsafe, and doomed." She shrugs. "But the Infected are dying off. Starving, maybe? It's been eleven years since the initial outbreak. I think the U.S. will heal itself, kind of like a body will if it's protected well enough."
Raising my eyebrows, I nod. Her theory makes perfect sense, but it hadn't crossed my mind. Do Infected need food? Are they indeed disappearing? Living inside the compound robbed me of the chance to know for sure.
"Hey, Mandy!"
We both look up to see Justin fanning himself with a hand. His face burns red, and he's panting.
"What's wrong?" Mandy rises to her feet with a groan. I join her, wincing.
"Ollie needs to see you." Justin takes a gasping breath. "Says she's done with the numbers. She has a date."
His words mean nothing to me, but apparently, Mandy gets it. She takes off running across the Alma.