“Oh shit!” I squealed—yes, squealed. Don’t judge me.
A deader stumbled out of the clearing, its hands clasping hold of me as it brought its mouth down on my shoulder and I felt the first bite tear through my clothing. I flailed wildly while simultaneously being pulled backwards, and I fought to stay on my feet. If I went down, I was a goner—of that I was certain. All sense of reasoning and skill went out the window as panic overtook me and I fought to stay alive.
The first deader had gotten close enough in front of me to easily grab me, so I lifted my leg and kicked out as hard as I could. My boot slammed into its stomach, but instead of sending it flying backwards, my booted foot impaled the center of the deader’s stomach cavity with a sickening
crunch
. It continued to reach for me, even while I stood on one leg like a flamingo, my other boot firmly implanted in its gut. The deader behind me was gnawing on my shoulder, its teeth finally breaking through the material of my clothing and I cried out in pure, painful panic as I felt the first scrape of its teeth against my flesh.
Another deader had moved around to my right side now, and it was almost too much to take in. My mind wasn’t being able to fully wrap itself around what was happening, and was ready to close down.
This was it.
I was going to die.
I screamed loudly, which in hindsight was probably the stupidest thing I could have done, since it would alert any other deaders to my location. But I couldn’t help it, and so hindsight could kiss my skinny ass. Teeth sunk into my skin, and when I felt a warm rush of blood spurt free from my shoulder, I panicked. I flailed, I kicked, I pulled, and I screamed some more, not wanting to die like this—alone in the woods, never being able to apologize for being a terrible human being to the people I cared about.
My mind registered the sound of a gunshot, but it wasn’t close. Or perhaps it was and I was just losing it now. Or perhaps my screaming had attracted a horde to us and they were now descending upon Nova and the others. Oh God, what had I done? I had killed them. But what was I to do? Die quietly? Another gunshot sounded out just as the deader to my right reached for me, its hands clinging onto the material around my waist, and it buried its face into my clothing.
I could feel the rip of my jacket, the tear of my own flesh from my shoulder, and my own gut-wrenching screaming as I continued to fight them off. Their teeth were broken and jagged and this was all going to end quickly. At least I prayed it would. The urge to quit the fight—to let my sad and lonely life be obliterated was strong—but the thought of never returning back to Emily kept me fighting, giving me a fresh surge of energy.
Tears, hot and fresh, ran down my face, blood poured down my arm, and my left hand swung out blindly with my katana, eventually finding purchase in the side of the first deader’s face. It wasn’t enough to kill it, but it seemed to make it stagger as if I’d hit a cluster of nerves that made it somehow harder to control its limbs. It stumbled backwards and I barely held onto my katana as it did. There was a loud sucking sound as my foot left its stomach and my katana dislodged from its face at almost the same time. I placed both boots on the ground and pulled with everything I had to get free from the feeding deader’s teeth. I took the risk of chopping my own body in half, deciding that this would be the better option than to be eaten alive, and I swung out with my katana, reaching across my own body and slamming the weapon into the head of the deader that was currently trying to eat my stomach.
It sunk into its skull, slicing right through until I felt the sharp edge of the blade touch my stomach. I gasped as the deader attached to my shoulder bit down and pulled at my muscle and sinew. The pain was excruciating. Red hot pokers sliced into me as it tried to tear me apart with its mouth. Its bony fingers dug painfully into me, and as it pulled backwards, my flesh firmly in its jaw, I gritted my teeth and pulled in the opposite direction.
My skin snapped free from its death-filled grip like stretchy meat, and my body sprang forward, almost into the waiting arms of the stumbling deader in front of me. Blood pumped from shoulder, and I realized with relief that the katana hadn’t chopped me in half. It had cut me, though I couldn’t be sure how bad. I could feel a hot, slow trickle running across my stomach. However, somewhere in the battle I had finally dropped my katana. So now I was weak, and weaponless.
I staggered to the left, panic making me feel dizzy and disoriented. My vision blurred, but the sight of two deaders coming closer to me was clear, and I knew I needed to run. I slammed into a tree, almost tripping over the branches and roots that scattered the ground. I placed a hand on my shoulder, attempting to press against the wound and stifle the blood flow. I slipped between two trees, the deaders close behind but thankfully just as clumsy as I was. I didn’t know where I was running to. If there was a horde back at the truck, then I would be running from one danger straight into the middle of another. But I couldn’t just stop. I couldn’t give in. I had to keep going, keep trying.
These thoughts whirled through my mind as I pressed on, forcing my shaky legs to keep putting distance between myself and the chasing deaders as I staggered from tree to tree, and I prayed that I was heading back in the right direction. Through blurry eyes I saw a figure running toward me. It wasn’t a deader, I was certain of that.
Nova got close, and I could focus on her face long enough to see the panic and worry etched across it.
“Shit, Nina!” she said, her eyes going wide as she saw the state of me. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry.”
“Help,” I whispered out as I stumbled toward her. She could keep her damn apology; that was no good to me now. What I needed was her to go kill the deaders trailing after me.
She swallowed nervously before speaking. “You’re such a drama queen,” she huffed, briefly examining the bite on my shoulder with a wince.
I knew she didn’t mean it, it was just her way: add amusement to a scary situation and make it less scary. Still, if I’d had any decent hand-to-eye coordination right then, I would have punched her in the face.
She looked behind me, seeing my following friends, and she pulled out her knife and pressed a hard kiss on my forehead. Her eyes met mine seriously, and for the first time in almost a week, I saw Nova—the real Nova—again.
“You wait here. Let me get rid of these fuckers for you, darlin’.”
I didn’t know if she was still trying to be funny with her “stay here” comment, but regardless, I was going nowhere. She stomped off behind me and I allowed myself to sink down to my knees. I didn’t bother to turn back and look; I knew she would be able to handle them with no problem. Her knife was shorter than mine had been, so she didn’t need the arms reach that I had needed. Besides, I had seen the fire in her eyes.
I listened to her yelling at the deaders behind me, and I almost wanted to laugh at the things she called them, the way she spoke to them like they had any clue what she was saying. But I didn’t laugh. I gritted my teeth and caught my breath, thankful for Nova and the fact that she kicked ass so well.
“Stupid rot bags. I’ll teach you to bite my friend,” she mumbled, and the sound of her knife sticking in rotting meat followed closely after.
Moments passed before she came back around and stood in front of me. She tsked and reached down to pick me up, placing an arm around my waist to take the brunt of my weight as she walked me back to camp.
“Well you got yourself all fucked up again, didn’t you?” She huffed out an annoyed breath. “Seriously, it’s like you attract danger.”
I tried to glare at her, but everything hurt and I couldn’t get up the energy to do it. We headed straight to the truck, where she helped me up the steps and bundled me inside. She walked around the front and climbed in before starting the engine.
“Where’s Joan?” I asked Nova, feeling incredibly tired.
“In the back,” she replied as she turned the truck around and headed back to the road. “Everything is packed up and ready to go!” she said.
“Where’s Deacon?” I asked, knowing that there wasn’t enough room for everyone back there. My shoulder throbbed, the world going fuzzy. I had lost too much blood and I wanted to sleep, yet a deep, subconscious part of me knew that would be the wrong thing to do
. Sleep equals bad
, I told myself, forcing my eyes to stay open.
Nova didn’t reply to my question, and I ground my teeth in annoyance. “Where is he?” I touched a hand to my stomach, and when I pulled it away, there was blood on my hand.
“Shit,” Nova said as she gave me a quick once-over. “How are you? You still with me?”
I nodded, but my body slumped sideways as she screeched around a sharp bend. My head bounced off the glass and Nova mumbled out an apology but didn’t ease up on the gas.
“Gotta put some distance between us and that place before I can pull over. I saw a herd on the road back there. Hold on for another mile or so, darlin’, then I’ll clean it and stitch you up. You’ll be as good as new in no time.”
I watched her mouth moving, her words seeming far away—as if they weren’t coming from her mouth at all, but were words floating around in the air between us like a separate entity. She looked over at me, her eyes wide. And I could see her yelling at me, her words sounding distant to the throbbing in my ears. She reached a hand over and slapped me hard across the face, and all at once my hearing came back.
“Wake the fuck up!” she yelled at me furiously. “You do not sleep until I tell you to.” She reached a hand back to slap me again.
“I’m awake!” I yelled back, feeling more alert. I should have thanked her for getting my adrenalin pumping again, but my stubbornness wouldn’t let me.
She continued to hold her hand up, readying to slap me again, and I flinched.
“Dude, I’m okay!”
She grinned and put her hand back on the wheel. “’Atta girl,” she said, paying attention to the road ahead. “I’m pulling over in a minute or two, so keep the pressure on.”
I nodded, pressing my hand to the bite mark on my shoulder. I winced, but kept the force on it regardless. I needed to help myself if I was going to live. My head throbbed, my shoulder burned, my stomach stung—everything felt painful, and I was so grateful at the moment that I had Nova with me.
“This is all your fault,” I said tartly.
“I know,” she replied immediately. “I’m sorry.” She was silent a moment before adding on: “If it’s any consolation, it doesn’t look all that bad.”
I glared at her, and she at least had the decency to look guilty before looking away.
“Where’s Deacon?” I asked, my throat feeling raw from all my previous screaming.
“He’s gone. He left. Just like we told him to,” she replied without emotion, her eyes staring straight ahead. “But seriously, that,” she gestured to my neck, “really doesn’t actually look too bad. I mean, it’s bad, obviously, but you’re not going to die from it, I don’t think. I’m pretty sure you’d be dead now already if it had bitten something really important. Not that I’m a doctor or anything, but you know, I think your clothing protected you from the worst of it. But it still needs stitches. Just not right here. Keep pressing on it.” She reached over next to her, where there was a bag of clothes, and fumbled around until she found an old T-shirt and handed it to me.
I pressed it against the wound with a wince, thinking over what she had said about Deacon, and I realized with worry that I didn’t believe her. Her distraction had almost worked, my own pain almost canceling out the niggling thoughts that were now running rampant in my head.
“Pull over!” I ground out slowly.
“No, we need to get away from here. I need to get us to safety before I pull over, and then I need to stitch your shoulder.” She turned to look at me, looking frustrated. “Screw him, Nina, and that thing!” she snarled.
“There are deaders back there, they could be in trouble,” I pleaded, feeling awful for leaving him like that.
“I killed the ones after you. He had more than enough time to run, he’ll be fine,” she replied quietly. “Stop worrying about him and that fuckin’ demon spawn.”
I went silent, a sinking feeling hitting me. My teeth chattered noisily. I felt cold and panicked. The terror of nearly being eaten to death, of seeing my life flash before my eyes, and then the guilt of leaving Deacon and his baby in such a dangerous situation with no food or weapons lay heavy on my soul. I began to cry.
“Stop that,” Nova said quietly. “No crying. You’re stronger than that, Nina.”
I shook my head in denial. “No, I’m not,” I managed to get out between sobs. I wasn’t sure if it was the comedown from my adrenaline high that was actually bringing on my waterworks or what, but a deep sadness was squeezing my heart and stopping me from thinking clearly.
“Yes, you are. Now get your shit together.”
I wiped at my eyes and nose, stemming the tears and snot, and nodded. My shoulder hurt so badly, and every time I moved my stomach throbbed in pain. I was full of self-pity, a total emotional wreck. This journey had been a total waste of time. Hilary was dead, and now we had to go back and tell Jessica that she had to terminate her pregnancy. Had I ever really believed anything different? I knew without really acknowledging it that no, I didn’t, but a part of me had prayed for a good outcome to this whole mess. Because I needed something good right then, I needed something positive to cling onto. In a world filled with so much misery and sadness, I had once again let myself hope.