Fabian's camp consists only of an R.V. I squirm in his arms, wanting to be put back down. I so, so wish I could walk on my own. Why did I have to go and sprain my stupid ankle?
"Please put me down," I huff, glaring at Fabian.
He sighs. "Not just yet. Let's get you inside first."
"Did you go back to our old camp just to get the R.V?" Neil asks.
"Yeah. Had to wait a few days though until the zombies left the area. It's pretty clear there now, but it's a wreck," Fabian replies.
"That's quite far from here," Neil remarks.
"Not really. Just a couple clicks."
Fabian carries me inside of the R.V., setting me down on the nearest bed. I hop out of his arms, scooting as far away as possible, glaring at him.
"Don't look at me like that," he snaps, frowning. "You oughta be more grateful. I just saved your life."
"Shut up." I don't know what else to say so I say that.
"Whatever." Fabian scratches the back of his neck. "Next time I'll just leave you and only save my brother."
"Fine! Thank you..." I grumble.
"For?" He raises an expectant eyebrow.
"Saving my life..." I mumble, lowering my eyes.
"Better."
I sniff indignantly. "That doesn't mean I have to like you."
"Never said you did, sweetheart," Fabian remarks, exiting the R.V.
"You-" He slams the door before I can retort, and I nearly scream. He grinds my gears. "Ugh!"
I flop down onto the bed, press my face into the pillow, and scream with frustration. I hate him. I barely even know him, but I hate him. Minutes later, the door opens again and I look up, hoping that it's not Fabian again. Much to my relief, it's Neil. He shuts the door behind him, then he comes and sits down on the edge of my bed. I sit up slowly, tucking my knees up to my chin.
"How are you holding up?" he asks me.
"Fine. By the way, I hate your brother," I gripe.
Neil laughs. "Fabian? Hate is a pretty strong word, Carol."
I stubbornly cross my arms. "Well, I do. I hate him."
He chuckles. "Don't worry. He'll grow on you."
I scoff. "Doubtful. He drives me crazy, and I barely know him."
"Just ignore him. Fabian doesn't mean to be that way. But don't let him get under your skin, okay?"
"It's fine. I can tolerate him. How's your arm?" His left arm and shoulder are tightly bandaged. He places his hand on it.
"Better, I guess. It hurts." Neil winces. I feel a bit guilty. He's only hurt because of me. That thing was after me in the first place. In a way, Will was right...I put his family in danger.
"I'm sorry," I mutter to him, placing my hand on his.
"For what?" Neil stares at me, perplexed.
"You got hurt because of me," I say.
"Carol, it's not your fault."
"But you got hurt protecting me! It is my fault."
Neil picks my hand up and holds it in both of his. "Carol. It's not your fault. This world is dangerous already. There's no one alive in this world that hasn't been hurt because of what's going on."
"You saved me," I murmur. "Thank you."
He stares at me, his green eyes roaming all over my face. "I haven't saved you. Not at all."
"What?" My jaw drops in confusion. "What does that mean?"
Before he can reply, the door opens and Fabian walks in again. "Well, don't you two look real cozy."
I scowl. "What do you want?"
Dawn scurries inside after him, running and hopping up onto the bed next to me. She snuggles into my side, and I hug her, stroking her messy curls.
"Just wanted to let you know that there are only two beds. Someone's gonna have to share," he says.
"Daddy?" Dawn looks at Fabian. She jumps off the bed and grabs his leg. Shock crosses his face. I raise an eyebrow.
"Um..." He awkwardly pats her on the head. "I'm not your dad, kid."
"Where's my daddy?" She stares up at him with wide eyes.
"I don't know. But it definitely ain't me. Sorry." He ruffles her curls.
Dawn starts to cry. "Can you be my new daddy?"
Fabian kneels down so that he's eye level with her. He glances at Neil uncertainly, who just shrugs, and then at me. I offer him a sad smile and nod. Glancing back at Dawn, Fabian sighs and pats her on the head. "Sure kid. I'll be your new dad."
Dawn smiles. "Okay."
Then she hops back onto the bed next to me and lays down, closing her eyes.
"Poor kid," Fabian mumbles to Neil. "She had to watch her mom get eaten alive."
I pegged Fabian for the insensitive type, but I guess he does have a heart. Maybe Neil was right. Maybe there is more to him than I initially thought.
Hours later, it's the middle of the night and I'm unable to sleep. Dawn is sleeping soundly next to me, and Neil is in the other bed across from mine. I think there's also a couch somewhere that I believe Fabian is sleeping on, but I can't be sure. All I hear are the sounds of sleepy breathing and an occasional snore. Even though it's been a few weeks, I still can't believe I'm here, in this place. Mom and Janette are probably freaking out by now, especially mom. I wish there was somehow a way to let them know that I'm okay. I left her there all alone. I hope she's okay. I hope that she has someone to keep her safe. I should have taken her with me. Will I ever see her again?
POV: Mrs. Tyson
"So what you're saying is...my husband predicted this? A zombie apocalypse?" I ask as Kennedy floors it, speeding down the highway.
"That's what I gathered from his research papers," he tells me. "Which way?"
"Quick, take a left!" I shout.
Kennedy swerves sharply, almost passing the turn and I grab hold of the safety handle above me as my stomach turns. Thank God for my seat belt.
"I never believed in that sort of thing, but right now, it's the only explanation for what's happening," Kennedy says, jerking the steering wheel to the right to avoid a dead body lying in the middle of the road.
"But it's only been a few weeks, how is it happening so fast?"
"According to Keith's research, it's a virus. Viruses spread fast. I don't know if it's spread anywhere else, but for right now, it seems to only be in Sherry Town," Kennedy says.
"How is it spread?" What if I already have it?
"The notes said that it's only spread through direct contact, like through a bite or a scratch. You haven't been bitten or scratched by any of those things, have you?" Kennedy gives me a sharp look.
"No. Have you?"
"No. Are we almost there?"
"Yes, Janette's house is the one at the end, on the right."
Kennedy screeches to a halt in front of the house at the end, practically leaping out as soon as the car stops. The streets are practically deserted except for some strange people sauntering around. I'm guessing that they're zombies, but I can't be sure. It's startling to see dead faces on people that are up and walking around.
Kennedy takes his gun out of his holster, sprinting up the porch steps. "This is the one, right?"
"Yes." I walk up the steps after him, staring at Janette's dog laying in her yard. Dead. Flies swarm around an open, gaping wound, a pool of blood forming a near perfect circle around the body. It appears that something gnawed on it.
"crap, I think something's gotten in," says Kennedy, and I tear my eyes away from the dead dog. The door to Janette's house sits ajar, a bloody hand print just above the knob. A slick, dark trail of blood leads inside and a sick feeling worms around inside my stomach.
Kennedy barges in, gun at the ready and I stick close behind him. We follow the blood trail through the kitchen and into the living room, until it stops at the foot of the stairs, where a familiar person is hunched over another familiar corpse. Gasping, I put a hand over my mouth as tears spring to my eyes. Janette lies on the floor, dead, her glassy eyes staring lifelessly at the ceiling. A man I recognize bends over her body, face shoved into her stomach as he eats her. The putrid stench assaults my senses and bile rises in my throat.
"Oh God..." Kennedy mumbles, face sour.
At the sound of our entry, the zombie stops eating and lifts his head up. Turning to face us, my suspicions are confirmed. It's the face of my nice old neighbor, Mr. Hinkle. Alive, he was a nice old man who would always babysit Carol whenever I needed him to. He'd babysit Janette sometimes too. But now his kind face is stained and covered with Janette's blood, bits of her flesh stuck to his teeth as he growls at me. He grips a hunk of her intestines in his right hand, dangling like a piece of bait from a fish hook.
Face hard like a piece of stone, Kennedy aims his weapon at Mr. Hinkle, and fires, shooting him in the face. Blood and brain goo sprays all over the walls, and his dead body lies right next to Janette's. A sob rips out of my throat, and I bury my face in my hands. First Carol, and now Janette? I can't protect anyone. Why does this have to happen? I fall to my knees next to her body, my own body trembling.
"I am so sorry, Janette," I choke out, carefully closing her eyes with my fingers.
Kennedy places a comforting hand on my shoulder. "There's nothing you could have done, Meg."
Eyes blurry with tears, I gaze up at him. "Why is this happening?"
"I don't know," he replies. "No one does."
Shoulders slumping, I sit in front of Janette's dead body, taking in the smell of her rotting flesh. I feel so hopeless. I want an explanation as to why this is happening, but there's none. I just want it to all go away, I just want it all to be a bad dream, a nightmare.
"There's nothing we can do here, Meg," Kennedy tells me gently. "We have to go."
"Okay." Sniffling, I tear my eyes away from the horrible sight, and I stand up. Feeling slightly numb, I exit the house with Kennedy. On the porch, I glance back into the yard as I briefly think about burying Janette. I want to, but we just don't have time. I'd bury her in the yard, it's empty anyway. Wait...where did the dead dog go? It's not there anymore. The pool of blood where it was laying is empty now. Did something drag it away? But there's no drag marks. Please don't tell me that dogs can become infected with this too.
"Kennedy, where's the dog?" I ask quietly, grabbing his coat sleeve.
"What dog?" He looks around.
"The dead one, lying in the yard," I tell him, gesturing to the spot where it was laying just minutes ago. "It was there when we came in."
"I don't like this," he huffs, glancing around furtively. "Come on, we need to leave."
We hurry down the steps, Kennedy gripping my arm, practically dragging me along behind him. Glancing over my shoulder, I see the dog mulling around beside the house. The wound on its side glistens with fresh blood, yellow foam leaking from its gnashed teeth. Its eyes are livid and red.
"There," I whisper. "Kennedy, it's over there."
"Don't look at it," he hisses. "Try not to draw attention to us."
I practically yank the door open and Kennedy hops in. Just then, the dog has its malevolent gaze pinned on us, and it barks ferociously. It starts running over and panic flies through my entire body.
"Kennedy, hurry, drive!" I exclaim as he starts the engine. As soon as we tear away from Janette's house, the dog nears our car and runs after us, but slowly fades out of view as we speed away.