You know, there should be a rule – an actual, legitimate law – against waking up too early, especially if said person's been drinking the night before. Put in a curfew for actually getting out of bed instead of heading there… Maybe nine in the morning or something like that.
That's it! I'm calling it now! I hereby proclaim that sleeping in is a mandatory thing for all the world's citizens! Now everyone head back to bed…
…
…
…fuck. No dice this time.
Lightly groaning as I roll onto my side to check the clock, reading seven-thirty-four in the god damn morning, I admit defeat and scratch an itch out of my hair. Seriously? Why can't I sleep right now? I should be out like a baby right now after last night, and yet my brain refuses to cooperate. Even though it would be so easy just to slide back underneath the covers and just soak in all of the warmth coming towards me, somehow I end up just sliding off the mattress and turn to try and see my sister. Only, she's not in the bed now, either.
At least I know that she didn't just leave without saying goodbye. Her purse is still in the corner, and I know for a fact that she never goes anywhere without it.
Half expecting her to just jump out of the closet and surprise me, I chuckle at how paranoid I'm being and decide to head out into the kitchen. If she's not already there, then maybe I can scrounge together some breakfast for the two of us. Although a couple pieces of toast probably isn't gonna cut it between two people, it's at least better than starving.
Stepping out into the hallway as I push the door to the side, I tilt my head as I spot Jaime lingering alone out on the balcony; back slouched and arms resting on the safety bar as she peers over the city. But what's that smoke billowing out from one of her hands? Is… is my sister smoking?
"Jaime…" I sigh audibly, feeling disappointed and stupid at the same time for not having known about this before. Doesn't the kid realize that cigarettes will destroy her lungs one day? I have half a mind to just walk over there and knock the cancer stick out of her hands, but deep down I know that the girl wouldn't be out there without a good reason.
That's at least one thing that Jaime and I actually share in common – we both need our personal space every now and then. Only, the difference is that I generally need time to myself a lot more than she does, but I know better than to try and get anything out of her in this state. If Jaime wants to talk, she'll talk.
With her being unable to hear me anyways with the glass door shut, I head in the opposite direction and rub my face tiredly as I remember what I had neglected to do yesterday: mop the floor. There's only so much that paper towel can soak up before being completely useless, no matter what supposed brand you buy, so I waltz out into the main hallway and knock on one of the neighbours' door to see if I can borrow theirs. Ms. Young usually has something like that up her sleeve.
As I wait for a response on the other end, I can't help but notice that about three families as well as a gay couple and one of the old women who live some doors down from me have all got their stuff packed and are ready to head out somewhere. Most of them look really nervous, with some of them frantically calling on their cell phones while some of them are continuously checking down the stairwell for some strange reason.
When one of the kids notice me staring, they kindly wave to me with a faint smile as I half-heartedly wave back. What, did they all suddenly decide to vacation together? Why wasn't I invited?
But just like that, as I thank Ms. Young for the mop and bucket and watch as she closes the door, all of them, kids and elders alike, have vanished.
An hour and a half has passed, and I'm starting to get a little miffed. Jaime still hasn't come back inside yet, and aside from a few twitches of her shoulder blades and a brief turn of her head, she hasn't even moved from the spot that I first saw her in. Surely she should've come in by now, right? I mean, it's one thing to want a little bit of time to yourself, but it's another to completely isolate yourself from those you care about. That's my thing, not Jaime's!
Having cleaned up the mess left in the bathroom (relatively speaking, of course), I'm about to venture over to see what the hell's gotten into her this morning, when all of a sudden I hear a quiet buzzing noise coming from the couch. Curious, as I had expected my sister to be carrying the plastic thing around with her wherever she'd go just like most teenagers I know, I do a double-take to make sure that she's still facing away from me as I head on over. Trapped underneath the blanket I had left for her is Jaime's cell phone; red dot flashing in the corner to signify a new text message.
Being the ever-concerned, trustworthy older sibling that I am, I sneakily flip the thing open and start to snoop around to see who'd be messaging her. Probably one of her high school friends, I'd bet. Her little circle from what I've heard tends to join with each other at the hip, if you know what I mean.
"Typical…" I mutter, glaring as the message is actually from Patricia, otherwise known as my mom. And if she's messaging Jaime about what I think it is, then our dad's sure to follow. Apparently a scolding and a slap on the wrist isn't as effective as when both parents get in on the action. It doesn't take long for me to get the gist of what she's saying.
My hunch was right before – Jaime definitely wasn't supposed to be out of town this weekend, and Mom's throwing a fit. You get your little ass back here right now, Jaime! the text reads, with a few angry emoticon faces thrown in to try and persuade her somehow. By the tone of her voice, no doubt her daughter's gonna be grounded for the next week if not longer, which, although justified, still pisses me off something fierce. Maybe it's gotta do with the fact that I still hold some form of bitter resentment towards them even after years of being on my own, but knowing that they're pulling the same strict tactics on Jaime makes it even worse. She doesn't deserve that. She's the good kid in the family.
Without even thinking about it, I shoot her back an angry text saying how she's staying with me, and that the only reason she's getting pissed off is because Mom doesn't trust her enough to make her own decisions. Kind of selfish and obnoxious for me to send this on her behalf, but maybe something good will come out of it. Hey, you never know.
I shoot "send" on the screen just seconds before Jaime decides to reappear back in the apartment smelling like a chimney and drenched in sweat. The summer heat's cooked her from the inside out, but she doesn't notice me at first as I nonchalantly toss her phone back onto the couch where I found it.
"Took you long enough," I comment, nearly scaring her out of her own skin as she closes her eyes in defeat. "Why so jumpy there, kiddo? You look nervous about something."
"Uhh… nothing! Just…" she stutters, looking shakier than usual as I stare over at her curiously. Man… I don't think she should be that jumpy about this, least of all with me. "…I think something's going on out there."
Huh?
"Wait, what?" I dumbly respond as I try to get us back on track. "What are you talking about? I was just trying to get you to talk about the cigarette thing."
"There've been cop cars driving around everywhere, Jane. The whole city's been covered this morning. That's not normal."
"You do realize that the White House is in this city, right? Pretty sure that would make sense."
"Come here," she insists, grabbing onto my forearm as I shrug her off but reluctantly follow her nonetheless. Might as well put an end to the paranoia while I've got the chance. Walking out towards the balcony, I glance out towards the city skyline as Jaime joins at my side a second later. "See? Do you see it yet?" she asks, worriedly pointing out a few roads away from us as, sure enough, about four police cruisers are parked on the side of the busy city street.
Normally, I'd probably give her the benefit of the doubt and just play along; not really having the energy or the tolerance to argue since usually she'd just continue to bug me until I agreed with whatever crazy idea she would come up with. But not this time, though – not when it's something that's clearly upsetting her for some reason.
Shaking my head, I shrug it off as nothing and try to convince her to do the same. "You're getting all in a twist for nothing. I see those guys drive by every day," I tell her, frowning when that doesn't seem to calm her nerves. "It's not as if there weren't any police back home! Why are you acting like your dog just got flattened by an eighteen-wheeler or something?"
"I miss Mr. Snugglepuffs…" she reminisces for a brief moment before returning to the topic at hand. "But no, that's not it! Haven't you been watching the news at all?"
"That's usually the one thing I choose to ignore, so no."
Evidently she's getting frustrated with me, and I linger out on the balcony for just a little while longer as she heads back into my apartment with an annoyed huff. The hell is her problem this morning? What, is the hangover from last night's outing too much for her to handle this morning?
Feeling slightly annoyed with her myself as she won't just spit it out and tell me what's going on, I close the sliding glass door behind me after once again seeing nothing out of the ordinary going down in the bustling metropolis of downtown D.C. Traffic's jammed up the ass for a Sunday morning, but I don't really find that odd. That'll just give me an excuse to laugh at all the drivers as I end up walking past them on my way to work this afternoon.
And by afternoon, I mean in about an hour or so.
"There's something really weird going on, and it's happening in other places, too! LA, Texas, New York…" she lists off as I realize what she's on about.
"What, that stupid news broadcast last night?" I recall from our outing at the club. "You don't really buy that shit, do you? It's just a scare – probably a bad case of the flu that's going around. Don't worry about it, alright?"
"But – "
"Don't."
Jaime's as stubborn as they come when she really wants to be, rarely taking no for an answer and sometimes being prone to charging into things head-first instead of thinking through and planning ahead. Her passion and ambition, although they're traits that I can really admire about her, also have the tendency to blind her to what's really going on. There's no conspiracy theory coming true in this town – no monsters coming to snatch us away, no aliens, no terrorists or psychopaths coming to bang on our door and demand that we turn ourselves in. I wish that she'd just stop for a moment and figure that out for herself, because frankly I don't have the time or the patience right now to be talking down a panicked seventeen year old.
I want to derail this conversation entirely before it ends up turning into a shouting match, so I pat her on the shoulder and head over towards the bathroom. "Look alive, would ya? We're gonna head out for a bite to eat. There's a pretty decent diner not too far from here. My treat," I propose, hoping that the prospect of a nice, warm meal will be enough to win her over. By the look on her face, I can already tell that she could eat a horse right now. I'm just about to fix myself up when I hear a strange noise in the distance; a groaning sound coming from down the hall somewhere that stops us both in our tracks. "See? Flu," I mention, figuring that somebody's just throwing up and doing a really loud and over-exaggerated job of covering it up. "Pack your stuff up, 'cause you've gotta head back home right after breakfast," I tell her, shutting the door closed just as she's about to complain to me about it. I know that it sucks, seeing's how we really didn't spend a whole lot of time together this weekend, but there'll be other days for us to really sit down and catch up with each other's lives.
We could sit down for a game of poker or something like that next time – maybe Jaime actually won't cheat at it like she always does… Somehow I always end up losing at least five bucks a match along with a piece of my pride and dignity every single time. I'm not just being a sore loser, really!
Making sure to bring the mop and bucket along with me so as to return it to Ms. Young, I casually stroll along with it and go to knock on the door once again, only for me to open it slowly after one little tap. Exactly like those stupidly cheesy horror movies, I think with a chuckle, peering my head in and trying to get a glimpse of where the elderly woman might've scampered off to. It's not as if she can move around very well, not with her having to use a walker to move around the apartment complex.
"Linda?" I call out, using her first name for the first time in ages. It sounds so weird on my tongue when I call her by that, mostly because she looks as though she's two centuries older than me, but it doesn't really matter. I get no response anyways.
Puzzled, since she was just here a little while ago and normally doesn't go out on the weekends, I shrug and leave the mop near the front door. The old bat's probably just dying to clean something up with the thing… heh… as bad as it sounds, that's usually the most fun she'll have all day. I really need to stop taking advantage of her generosity one of these days – which, realistically, will probably be on the day that I move out of this place. I'm still shocked that she hasn't been transferred into a nursing home.
I'm about to head back and drag Jaime out so that we can get some grub, when all of a sudden I feel a damp, mucky sensation on the bottom of my foot. A dark, murky red splatter of blood decorates the floor in a puddle, and even though I'm thankfully not hurt, it still rattles me up a little bit. Is Ms. Young alright?
"Hello?" I yell out a little bit louder, checking her bathroom to try and see if she might've hit her head or something. Empty, just as I had thought it was before. And no signs of anything out of place in the apartment aside from the splotch and continuing dribbles leading out towards the stairwell down a little ways.
"I swear to god, Jaime… if this is some kind of a joke…" I mutter under my breath, cursing her for inadvertently starting to get me nervous about this after her confession to me but moments ago. I knew she was being genuine about feeling scared and all, but now this? Maybe it's all a little bit too much of a coincidence.
Walking as slowly as a turtle as I creep forward, I make sure that nobody else is following behind me before inching the door open. With just a creak, I cringe at how loud it ends up being as I can see a trail of blood much more clearly now than I could beforehand. That same groaning sound is getting louder now, only this time it also sounds like someone's… eating? How can someone try to eat and barf at the same time? Doesn't that kind of defeat the purpose?
Although, with just a brief glance down the stairs, I nearly have to fight the urge to gag at the sight, smell and everything else about it as my eyes widen like saucers. It's not Ms. Young down there, but one of the kids – he couldn't have been even six or seven years old yet – he's… oh god, that smell…
Unable to stand in there any longer, I dash back to the exit and slam the door behind me, not caring if that… that thing… can hear it or not. Its back was turned, but there was no denying that the thing eating that little boy was (or still is) a person. A fucking person! Did he have rabies? Was he some sort of sick-minded cannibalistic asshole?
"Jane?" Jaime asks me as I dart back into the room; palms sweating like crazy as I put my back up against the door. Just for good measure, I turn the lock and put some extra weight up against the frame just in case the guy decides to head up here next. "What's going on? Why are you all jittery?"
Temporary relief washes over me as I see Ms. Young sitting comfortably on the chair, apparently having heard my call earlier, but that can't remove that horrible image out of my mind. Ever. I've never been so disgusted and so utterly terrified in my entire life.
But even though fear's gripping me in a deadlock, speeding up my heart rate and pounding against my chest, I know now what I have to do; what my main goal has to be. Whatever's going on, none of that matters now. All I know is that Jaime is my number one priority, and somehow we're going to have to try and make a break for it out of this apartment. Possibly even out of this city, but at this rate the traffic will slow us down even if that worthless pile of shit won't. No wonder the cops were out in droves – just like Jaime had warned me about.
Have I ever mentioned that I hate being wrong?
"…you wouldn't believe…" I shudder violently, shaking my head and silently cursing Ms. Young for not being able to move very quickly. You know, as if that were actually her fault. "We can't stay here, it's not safe. The faster we go, the better off we'll be."
"Where are we going? Jane, you're not making any sense!"
"I know that, and I promise I'll tell you everything later! You have to trust me for now, alright?" I beg with pleading eyes, watching her face scrunch up in worry as Jaime gulps and nods; turning back towards the room and sprinting to no doubt grab onto her purse. I wonder if she ever got rid of that stupid nail file… always jabbed my fingers whenever I'd go rooting around inside. "Come on, over to the elevator," I hurry the three of us along, telling Linda to simply sit on her walker as I impatiently push her with us. I'm not so sure that I could stomach it if I just left her up on the floor to get attacked.
Incessantly dialing the button as the elevator slowly makes its way up to the third floor, I nearly freeze in place as, sure enough, down the hallway the creature appears. The fucking elevator can't come fast enough.
My mind's a bit buggy on what I'm seeing as it slowly starts to stumble towards us, so I'll try to be as clear and concise as I can. I only ever expected to see a fucker like this in stories; fiction that had stretched the boundaries of people's imagi… you know what? No. Fuck that. This goes even beyond what any sane person pictured what a creature like this would be. I never should've signed up to read those fucking zombie fanfictions online… What a mistake that was!
Well, at least I might have an inkling on what to do about it then. Hopefully all of my time reading those "world-ending scenarios" might actually pay off in this case. Let's get a look at what we're dealing with here.
This thing… well, it looks dead, for starters. Peeling, rotting skin that's making the guy look sick and deranged. Eyes are definitely a dull shade of yellow… no, wait… yellow and a little bit of milky white. Yeah, definitely that. Either way, though, it doesn't seem to be using its brain very effectively, since it's just trudging forward with reckless abandon. The blood of its victim is planted deeply onto his suit and tie, and the guy's mouth is practically hanging off by the hinges. Its ears have practically been torn off along with a massive chunk of his upper thigh, and it almost looks as though he himself got nabbed by something, too. This guy can't just be animatronic, right?
Judging by the rancid odour and ripped flesh, I'm guessing not.
"AHHH!" Jaime screeches upon seeing the monster for herself, but I quickly place my hand over her mouth and practically shove her and Linda into the elevator when the doors finally open. Frantically pressing the close button, the stupid thing won't close soon enough, as the dead guy, apparently moving more quickly and with more of a purpose after hearing my sister's screams. I fall straight to my ass when it reaches inside, but because this elevator is so old, the sensors don't really work properly, and so the guy's arm gets trapped as we venture downwards.
"Jaime, shut up!" I hiss insensitively, with my panic of getting grabbed by this monster outweighing my sympathy towards her feelings. A twinge of guilt erupts in my stomach as her eyes tear up from fright, but my attention immediately swings back to our friend over here as the last of his low growls are drowned out.
With the alarm blaring at us to get whatever's blocking our descent out of the way, Ms. Young nearly faints as a dead arm detaches from the guy's body and lands in her lap, soaking her with black ooze as she instantly slaps the limb onto the floor.
"…holy fucking shit…" I manage to say, not even bothering to remove Jaime's arms from my waist as she holds me even more tightly than when we were little kids growing up together. Because in truth, I don't want her to let go. She's one of the few exceptions to my "no-touch" rule, and admittedly she's giving me more comfort just by sticking close to me than I had thought she would.
Heading out of the apartment proves to be even crazier, however, but not in the way that I had expected. With all three of us too stunned to speak of what we just witnessed, we watch as the downtown core continues to function as if absolutely nothing is going wrong. People stroll down the sidewalk, either talking on their cell phones, chatting with friends, hurrying along to their next appointment or just casually walking out for a nice, summer promenade. None of them even have a clue.
I hear Jaime's terrified squeals behind me as I force the three of us to get as far away from the apartment as physically possible. What in the hell is going on around here?
"What… was that?" Linda finally breaks the ever-growing silence between us, after having continually speed-walked for at least half an hour down past a bunch of the historical landmarks. I don't think Honest Abe over there is gonna be much help to me right now.
Neither Jaime nor I know how to answer that question, so we simply keep moving forward and push our way through the crowd. Judging by the faces on some of the patrons we've passed, I reckon that slowly but surely, Washington isn't going to be in the dark about this for much longer.
Still though, besides the one we saw back in my apartment and a couple digging through a dumpster way back on one of the dead-end back alleys, it's been relatively dead-free for the past little while. My nerves are still shot, though, and it wouldn't be a far cry to say that Jaime's and Linda's are now, too. I'll admit: out of all the things that could've happened today, the last thing on my list would've been my parents just randomly coming up to me on the street, giving me a hug and apologizing for kicking me out and sending me on my own into this cruel, terrible world.
This "walker", as somebody claimed it as, wasn't even on my list. It wouldn't have even registered in my brain.
"Nothing human, that's for sure," I decide to indulge her, knowing that keeping the woman in the dark and shutting her out wouldn't be right or fair. "Or… maybe it used to be a person, but it looked almost like it was hungry or something."
"For us?" Jaime meekly pipes in, sounding a lot like the sister I knew back when she'd run over to me during rainstorms, begging me to make the thunder stop even though I was always powerless to do anything about it. Suddenly, it actually kind of feels like the same thing.
"…do either of you have a cell phone handy?" I ask, dodging Jaime's question entirely as I accidentally trip a young man while walking closer towards the Jefferson Memorial. I knew Linda wouldn't have one with her, but unfortunately, probably from my lack of insight, Jaime had left hers on the couch, and there's no way I'm going back in there to retrieve it. "Looks like we're on our own for now, then," I shrug with a sigh, jogging up to the street and holding my right arm in the air. "Keep an eye out – if you see anything weird, tell me. I'm gonna try to hail a cab."
"What good's a fucking taxi gonna do, Jane?"
"Would you rather we just sit around here and do nothing then, huh?! Or would you rather we head back home?!" I snap back at my sister, not in the mood for this sudden change in attitude. "Look, I get that you're scared, alright? But bitching and complaining about it isn't going to help!"
Glaring at me with frightening hostility, Jaime doesn't say anything else before turning her back on me and giving me the cold shoulder. Damn it! Damn it all! I'm trying to come up with a solution, and now is the time she decides to act like a little spoiled princess?!
…great. Now I'm doing it, too. Just what we need – the two of us acting immaturely instead of just taking it slow and levelling our heads out. I'm too stubborn to head over towards her and apologize for freaking her out, but I highly doubt that she'll want to talk to me right now in a calm way anyways.
My head is filled to the brim with questions, mostly related around what the hell we're going to do if this isn't just a minimal-casualty sort of thing. This is big – no, scratch that. It's fucking HUGE, and I honestly don't know if I'm ready for the utter chaos that's going to come with it. I mean, that walker had lost its arm – a part of its body, for Christ's sake – and I could still hear it moaning as if absolutely nothing happened to it. I don't even want to think about what could've happened if we didn't get out of there in time. Would we have ended up just like that kid in the stairwell?
"Hopefully the next time you walk over to borrow something from me it'll be under some better circumstances," Linda teases lightly as I grin and continue to try and flag one of the cab drivers down. It really shouldn't be this hard for a Sunday morning, especially in a particularly tourist-y area like this. "So where do you kids plan on going after this?"
"Aren't you coming with?"
"Nah. My sons both live in Kentucky with my grandkids, so I'll most likely try to catch the next bus that heads out west. Either that or hitchhike, I suppose," she tells me as I immediately tell her that trying to hitch a ride with a group of strangers would be a bad idea. "Now, now, Jane, I know it's not ideal. But you don't need to worry that pretty little head of yours about me. You've got enough on your plate as it is," she reminds me, apparently catching me gazing over at my sister, who's reading one of the tourist signs for the Jefferson Memorial not too far away from where we're standing. "Keep her close, Jane. I know it's none of my business, but we don't know yet where all of this is gonna go. Better to stay cautious about it."
God, Linda, I could kiss you right now. For once, instead of offering to send me over some home-baked snacks or asking if I'd mind helping her bring one of her suitcases down to the main floor of our shared apartment building, she's actually giving me some much-needed advice. A lot of people wouldn't be able to do the same, I don't think. Many would try to force their opinions down my throat, but Ms. Young actually notices things about me. She pays attention, she cares.
Steadily lowering my gaze to the sidewalk in contemplation, I instead decide to ask her about something that was bugging me back when we were trapped upstairs. "There was a pool of blood on your carpet back there… You didn't hurt yourself or anything, did you?"
"Not to my knowledge," she shakes her head sadly, regaling me about what had probably went down. "There was a little boy who came knocking on my door earlier – had a deep gash in his forehead from something or other. Figured that he'd just gotten separated from his parents. I was about to grab him some bandages, but when I came back to give them to him, the little rascal disappeared," she mentions in confusion, and I don't have the heart right now to tell her what had ended up becoming of the kid as I simply nod in confirmation. My face must be giving it away though, because she then stifles back a gasp and places her hand over her mouth.
Sighing, I turn away and continue to try and get one of the taxi drivers to notice us down here; thinking about anything and everything other than the walkers. Boy oh boy, is my boss gonna be pissed for me not showing up today… Not sure yet if he'll deduct my pay again, but that's really the least of my priorities. The bank can just fuck off for all I care – they can go one day without a receptionist, I'm pretty sure.
"Looks like our ride's here," I mention, whistling for Jaime to come back to us as I take a look back at Linda one last time to see if she'll change her mind. "You're sure you don't want to come with us?" I probe, not at all convinced that leaving her alone like this is a good idea.
However, ultimately it's her decision, and as she reassures me that she'll be alright, I throw her an appreciative nod and step into the back of the taxi with Jaime in tow. My sister seems more anxious than upset at this point, most likely because even I don't really know where we should end up going right now. I guess we could try to find a motel on the outskirts of the city for a couple of days, but that's not really a long-term solution. And unless things suddenly blow over and the government steps in to take care of the walkers, I don't see myself returning to the apartment anytime soon.
So… that's it then. As of right now, I'm kind of homeless. Again.
"So," the driver, a forty-something year old Mexican man with a trimmed beard and bald head, says to us in a thick accent, "where can I take you both today?"
"Got any ideas? Because I'm thinking that breakfast is gonna have to be put on hold," I tease, eliciting a small smile out of Jaime before losing her yet again as she stares down into her lap.
"…I just wanna go home, Jane…"
Well, shit. I knew it was coming, that that's what she would've wanted to happen, but I was kind of holding out on the hope that I wouldn't have to go back to the house ever again. There's nothing really left for me there – only memories of sneaking off after dark and trying to explain myself to a pair of disgruntled parents who didn't want to put up with my shit anymore. It's not really a home for me anymore. Just four walls and a roof over your head.
But… I guess that sort of beats standing out in the middle of nowhere.
"Alright," I relent, making sure to try and voice my displeasure with this even though Jaime barely seems to notice. "Can you take us to Richmond?"
"Virginia? Are you for real? Look, I don't have anything against the two of you, but I'm just a fallback guy. My cousin needed a driver for the weekend just to get people around the city – Richmond's like a three to four hour drive from here!"
"Can you get us there or not?" I ask, holding one hand on the door handle in aggravation. This guy's starting to annoy me with his excuses, and we've barely just stepped into the car.
The man's about to respond to me with a sigh, when all of a sudden we hear a whole stampede of horrified screams and yells. Turning my head, I see dozens upon dozens of people just running for their lives; tripping over garbage cans and shoving each other out of the way as an entire group of walkers stumbles their way towards them. Some of them have already started feasting on the flesh of the living, and I desperately try to shake the driver out of his shock in order to get us out of here.
Jaime roughly taps me on the arm as she points out to a scared Ms. Young, who, in the mad rush of people escaping, had been shoved to the ground right beside a dead woman with most of her insides torn out like wrapping paper. "We have to help her!" Jaime insists, trying to unlock the door only to realize in horror that the driver has manually locked us all inside. "Let us out, you idiot! She's in trouble! We have to get her back up!"
"We go out there and we're all gonna die! I'm not putting my life on the line for some woman I've never even met!"
"How can you be so heartless?!" Jaime smacks the back of his head, turning to me as I stare blankly over at the frantic Ms. Young. "Jane, we need to get to her! Please, she's your neighbour, for crying out loud!"
All while the two of them have been bickering back and forth, I've been paralyzed to the spot as I've witnessed what's been going on outside. The walkers have mostly been busy chowing down on the stragglers that weren't lucky enough to get away, but the dead woman beside Linda… her arms twitched, and her eyelids had slowly fluttered open again. I can't even put it into words right now, it's just unbelievable.
Slowly, the figure stands up for the first time, almost walking like a baby giraffe with how wobbly its legs are. As if it's been starving for most of its adult life, the decrepit woman casts her glazed eyes over at Linda, who just seems to have noticed the walker now only a few feet away from her.
"…step on it."
"What?! Jane, what the fuck?!"
"Just go! Get us to Richmond and I swear to you I'll pay with every dollar I've got!" I promise the driver, tossing all of my cash onto the front seat for good measure.
Linda, seeing us still sitting in the taxi and not bothering to help her out, cries out in desperation as her eyes, full of hurt and betrayal, cast a glance over at me. I can't look at her without feeling incredibly guilty, but I do manage to see her right as the walker falls on top of the defenseless elder. There's no chance in hell of her making it out of this.
Linda can't even let out a scream as the walker digs in and rips her throat out completely; blood profusely spraying out of her skin as chunks of flesh hit the concrete below her. Linda Young dies almost instantly as the undead monster clamps its fingers into her stomach next and begins to tear her apart.
Against her will, I force Jaime to look away as I hold her tightly against my chest; making sure to keep her head away from the grizzly scene as I ignore her furious, flailing fists that strike and lash out at me. Her voice is muffled in my jacket, but there's no mistaking the screams of "I hate you!" and "You let her die! You fucking let her die!"
I kick the cab driver roughly on the elbow as he finally speeds away, bowling over a couple of teenage boys as they hit the pavement in agony. Out the back mirror I see what's becoming of the city, and know now for certain that it's all going straight to hell.
"I'm sorry, Jaime…" I mumble, rubbing her hair as she bawls into my shirt. "I'm so sorry…"
