Sorry for the late update, guys. I hope this chapter will be sufficient enough for you, and I berate myself for trying to develop Gerard's character's affection for someone special.
My eyes struggle to open. Tendrils of sharp pain throb about in the hole in my shoulder, and I wince inwardly. I can't hear much of my surrounding, and I can feel the seeping warmth of the blood that pours out of the hole in my shoulder like a dam. Damn. My whole body aches so badly; I feel like a vulnerable pre-schooler again.
I force my eyes to snap wide open. Though blurry, I still can make out the shapes around me. Squinting around for my glasses, I find them resting on top of a table on my right. Putting them on sharpened the focus of my vision. I blinked once, and took notice of my surroundings. I was in a room with walls painted light grey. Sounds of television could be heard downstairs, and I would've believed that the zombie apocalypse was a dream, but the gaping hole in my shoulder reminded me otherwise.
I stared at my wound only to find that it was wrapped tightly by a white rag soaked with my own blood. I let out a deep sigh, having trouble standing up while clutching the edge of the bed to support myself. Taking a few steps to the door, I swung it open slowly, carefully, to find that I was on the second floor of the house I was in. The second floor was deserted, lights all turned off, while dim lights flashed downstairs. Slowly, and using the rails of the staircase to steady myself, I began the awfully painful descent down.
Before I reached the foot of the stairs, I ran into the freshman girl – what was her name again? Abby, Abigail Wolfe. She saw me and blushed and continued going upstairs. I shrugged, not understanding why, and I continued to the living room. Gordon, Niqulos and Ethan were huddled up on the couch watching some television, all tensed up while the news blared about the zombie apocalypse. Ethan noticed me walking by and said, "Did you pass Abby yet?"
I stared at him with a confused expression. "Yeah, why?"
The three of them snickered in unison. "She ah, had to take care of your wound." Niqulos smirked. Shaking my head at their childish behavior, I plopped myself down on the couch beside Gordon, who was staring transfixed at the television.
" –None of us, and I repeat, none of us have seen such a thing transpire in the United States of America in all our lives. All police and ambulance lines are busy, so please refrain from calling them; they have their hands full with these strange undead monsters. Civilians are starting to call them 'zombies', and I shudder to think what these 'zombies' could do to our nation. Reports from all other states of America have given us an estimate about the death rate in our population; roughly forty-five percent."
"Forty-five percent, so fast?" Gordon muttered in surprise under his breath.
"By the way, guys, where are we?" I asked.
"Oh, some house near the edge of Manhattan. Those god damn military bastards wouldn't let us out; they say they want to quarantine the whole city." Niqulos spoke whilst staring at the television.
" –It seems that the only way to take down these – 'zombies' – is to either remove the head, by decapitation what not, or destroying the brain. Scientists have gotten ahold of one of the undead and we have discovered that no matter how many wounds the infected have received from bites and bullets, a part of the brain keeps going on – the brain stem. These enable the infected to perform primary and basic functions – move and bite. Lord help us if this virus mutates, and good luck to you all."
Gordon switched off the television as we leaned back on the couches, feeling the first dredges of fear as the situation began to sink in. Abby broke our sudden reverie, saying that she would look for some supplies at the back. I jammed my hands into my pockets and said I needed some fresh air, and painfully climbed up the stairs, refusing offers from my friends to aid me. I stepped into the well-maintained balcony; the floor warm under my feet from the summer temperature and the night air cooling, caressing my face. I looked around the area we were in, whilst folding my hands across the railing.
Gunfire rang across the whole of Manhattan, and from a distance, several plumes of smoke could be seen rising from the distant horizon. Sirens wailed as the police and ambulance vehicles did their very best to combat the pandemic. Assorted vehicles caught my eye as they zoomed past the street we were in; pursued by hordes of undead.
Scrambling around the drawers of the room I was in, I shoved a bottle of heavy painkillers into my pocket, and casually popped one into my mouth, slightly recoiling at the bitter taste but feeling the sharp pain jabbing my midsection fade away. I lied down on the bed and my mind flowed freely.
I'll admit, this feeling in my gut hurt more than anything else I had ever experienced, even worse than when my friends pressured me to talk to this girl at school; her name was Erin. She was a lovely, slim woman one year younger than me, and a person that just joined the school in her second year of high school. Standing at five feet, eight inches, she had a friendly, quiet personality that could just look at someone and make that person smile with her own smile.
Erin caught my eye two weeks ago, when I was buying a drink in the canteen, exhausted from sports and basketball. I grabbed the drink and made my way to my friends when I passed her. You know how sometimes in life you just make eye contact with someone and you have the feeling that sparks are slowly enveloping you? Yeah, this was just like that. I couldn't stop thinking about her after that, and started noticing her in the hallways, trying to nod or smile at her whenever I passed. I can imagine how I looked; a tall, skinny boy with crooked teeth and nerdy glasses smiling tight-lipped with a pale expression.
One week ago, before the zombie outbreak started, I made a move and texted her, hoping for a reply. We became friends, but I never truly understood how girls work. One moment they reply as fast as lightning, the other they leave your message hanging and cause you to go berserk whilst waiting for a reply. I realized I had not checked with her to see if she was alright.
"Hey. Everything cool?"
I laid on the pillow as a feverish feeling hit me, numbed slightly by the painkiller but it wasn't going to last long. The stomach wound hurt and felt like I was tearing apart internally. I heard that when you were injured and in deep pain, you would undergo fevers.
My phone vibrated as if in a frenzy on the table beside the bed, and I picked it up to read the text reply.
"OMG, dead people are alive, and yeah, I'm not bit, if that's what you were asking."
My lips formed into a grin as I hastily typed back another message.
"Where r u now?"
My stomach was growling both from the pain and hunger, so I laid my phone down on the bed and went down to the kitchens to get a quick snack. Everyone was in the living room, either resting or debating what to do now. Unnoticed, I merely brewed coffee and opened a cup of instant noodles, pouring steaming hot water into the cup and adding flavoring. Making my way to the living room, I took a seat on one of the vacant couches and sighed.
" – Jesus, you can't be serious!" Niqulos was staring at Gordon with a bewildered expression.
Gordon protested, "But seriously, if we try to look for our families now, we'd go berserk!" Ethan merely watched the heated exchange, not budging from his seat nor saying anything. However, the two of them arguing turned toward me.
"Gerard, what do you think, should we look for our families or not?" Niqulos faced me with a determined expression on his face, Gordon turning to face me as well with the same face plastered on. I shrugged, saying, "I don't know about you guys but I'm gonna go look for Erin."
Ethan sighed again; after hearing me talk about her lots of times, he probably got sick of it already. Meanwhile, Abby inquired who Erin was. So I explained to her, as the night ticked on, and the screaming and gunfire continued outside. She was a good listener, and as the rest of our group dozed off, my description of Erin came to an end.
"I… I see. So you like this girl, right?" Abby finally spoke up, a serene expression set upon her face, like she had experienced the way I felt now. I nodded, hesitant about telling someone I barely even knewmy secret only my best friends had known. Oh well, I guess everything changes after something major like the zombie outbreak.
Truth to be told, I never really expected a zombie outbreak to occur at such a time like this. I'd always have dreams about zombies and how ferocious they pounded at doors to get to me, and sometimes in classes that were too boring, I'd just look outside the window and wonder how it would feel to live in such a world.
Now I live in such a world.
If the apocalypse did not come, I'd be lying on my bed, about to drift off, chatting with friends and waiting for herreply. Probably even wish I could play basketball better. Never thought life would change suddenly for the worse.
A loud doorbell ring emanating from the front door broke my reverie, and jolted the rest of the group awake from their rest. Gordon immediately dropped quietly on the floor, motioning to us to keep silent and not to open the door, lest there be infected or aggressive survivors out in the night. After all, every curtain was shut and every light was off. Why would someone ring a doorbell? Unless –
"Guys," I hissed urgently. "That asshole who rang our doorbell is probably trying to run away from the zombies and attract the infected to our location!" Niqulos nodded, and trudged upstairs – to his room, I presumed. I followed Niqulos whilst Abby, Ethan and Gordon stood put. Trying my best to keep my footfalls silent, I sped up the stairs and burst into my room, feeling the effect of the painkillers wear off.
I guess time passes fast sometimes when you're deep in thought. The start of a new day shone through the translucent curtains that shaded my room from sunlight. I grabbed some more painkillers from the drawers, snatched up my phone and went downstairs again.
When I had reached the foot of the staircase, sounds of pounding could be heard from the front door, and Ethan, Gordon and Abby were armed with whatever weapons they could scavenge from the kitchens and storerooms. Niqulos came downstairs holding a fencing blade and lugging a rucksack, earning stares of surprise from each and every one of us. He noticed us looking at his blade and said that he found it in one of the rooms upstairs.
"Is there a back door?" I asked. Gordon pointed to the kitchen, and we made our way to the kitchen. Suddenly, one gnarly hand tore through the wooden door to our house, shocking all of us. Gordon motioned for us to go whilst brandishing a cleaver and heading to the wooden door.
"What the hell are you doing? Gordon!" Niqulos yelled at him while we opened the back door. Gordon had pushed some couches and tables to block the door while hacking at the hands of the zombies that tore through the wood. I honestly had no idea whatever the hell Gordon was doing, but I wanted to live. I saw that one of the members of our group had propped my metal bat to bar the door in case anything – dead or living – tried to make their way into the house. Well, so much for that idea. I took the bat and followed my friends out of the house.
"Come on, you bastards! Come eat me you sick fucks; I've got plenty of flesh and bone here. COME ON!"
I stuffed some painkillers in my mouth and felt numbness and nausea again, and a slight dizziness. All of us excluding Gordon and Niqulos made our way to the car we had come here in, only to find it gone.
"What now?" Ethan asked, holding a tennis racket and clenching his teeth. Most of the infected had been drawn toward the commotion at the front door of the house but several of them were still roaming around. I swung my aluminum bat at the nearest zombie; to my surprise I missed, and only managed to break one of its arms. It snarled and came for me, but a swing from Ethan's racket silenced it. Gordon was still swearing and ranting at the zombies while Niqulos joined him, determined not to leave him there alone.
A notification buzzed my phone in my pocket, and I checked it. It read that Niqulos and Gordon would catch up to us after they had cleansed this house. Gordon also told us not to worry if they died, and that if they died, they died for us. Niqulos told us to meet at the school, and not to reply until we had reached there.
I honestly had no idea why we had to go back to Swift's International again, but I decided to respect my friends' wishes, and I told Ethan and Abby to follow me. Looking at the front door, it was splintered and cracked and zombies were lining up to get inside, reminding me of a crowded cafeteria. Few infected noticed our presence and we shoved aside those who approached us. The ranting coming from the house we had left ceased and we hastily made our way around the suburban neighborhood Ethan had drove us to whilst finding a place to rest and scavenge. Fortunately for us, Abby had my bag slung over her shoulder, which was filled with enough food to last us for a few days.
Ethan had just smacked aside a zombie with his racket and we spotted a sweet ride out of this place. It was a rusted van with the license plate removed and the car logo slashed. The vehicle was colored a deep maroon with blotches of navy blue paint splattered on the side of the car. There were bloody handprints on the windows and plenty of fingerprints as well. The window was partially winded down and there was a key lodged in the keyhole.
All of a sudden, I crumpled down onto the ground and screamed in agony; the hole in my stomach hurt like it was on fire, and I couldn't think or see straight. The only thing I could focus on was the immense pain enveloping my abdomen, and I could barely feel two pairs of hands haul me roughly and toss me on a leather backseat. My body ached all over.
Seconds passed. Minutes, even. The pain had dimmed from earlier but some effects were still lingering. I groaned and shoved the several strands of hair that covered my forehead to the side. We were all in a car; Ethan was driving and Abby was sitting shotgun. Suburban homes, convenience stores and shopping centers we passed, and occasionally we would go over a bump that shook the van.
The van's backseat smelled like someone had threw up all over it; the smell was horrid and putrid, and caused me to gag a little. The owner of the van had plenty of alcohol bottles lying on the backseat, causing me to think that he was a drunkard who threw up a lot.
I needed to do something to distract myself from the aching wound in my abdomen. Whipping out my phone, I checked it to find one notification. Feeling a little bit of elation at the prospect of a possible reply from Erin, I clicked on the chat and saw that there was a message not from Erin, but from Juan.
"Dude, wtf, you were right! There's a damn zombie apocalypse out there man. Where are you guys?"
Sitting upright and gasping as another sudden jolt of pain stabbed my gut, I hastily typed a reply to Juan.
"Yeah, man, Ethan, some girl and I are headed for the school. Is Sam Yee with you?"
"Yeah, he is. Can't find Alideen though. What about Niqulos and Gordon?"
"They're taking a detour. Idk if they'll survive or not. They were distracting a horde whilst we escaped a house. And dude, BTW, Alideen's dead. I saw his corpse."
"Shit, that's bad. Was it in chemistry class? Cuz I remember he was snoozing. Hope Niqulos and Gordon can make it."
"What about you? Where r u now?"
"Sam and I are holed up in the canteen with a bunch of sophomores and seniors. There's plenty of food and water here but there's a bunch of zombies trying to push their way in thru the barricade we've made."
A loud bang interrupted my texting abruptly, and Ethan swerved as hard as he could opposite the direction of the shooting. Wobbling about and trying to regain my balance, I continued typing a text to Juan.
"C u there, dude, we're under fire now."
"Ok, ciao. It's gonna be a rough night without any pillows or mattresses in the canteen."
I clicked off my phone and focused on the road ahead; Abby already drifting off to sleep while Ethan dutifully navigating through the narrow road to Swift's International.
I sighed and leaned back on the cracked leather seat. This was going to be a long night.
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