"Looks like the bitch volunteered" the man said, bringing his gun to point directly at Santana's face.
In a second all hell broke loose.
There was the sound of a gunshot, then another, a grunt of pain, the screech of tires and then it was over.
Brittany had picked up on Santana's cue.
In the moment the man turned to point his gun at Santana, Brittany had pressed down on the trigger of her gun. Santana's eyes squeezed shut, on instinct.
The sound of gunshots reverberating around the car was deafening and almost immediately afterwards the car came screeching to life, not quite masking a loud cry of pain. All Santana knew was that two gunshots later and she was still breathing. Immediately her eyes locked on Brittany, and she breathed a sigh of relief when the other girl appeared unharmed.
Just then the back window shattered and Santana threw her hands to cover the back of her head as glass fell everywhere around them.
"Mother Fucker!" Santana screamed, swiveling her head around just in time to see the man, blood gushing from his chest, fall to the ground, gun in hand.
It seemed his last stand was over.
"Sam!"
Kurt's sharp cry brought Santana's attention to the front of the car where Sam was driving with one hand, the other pressed firmly over his shoulder.
There was blood.
"I'm fine," Sam said, panting heavily and momentarily squeezing his eyes closed. A tear fell from his eye.
"And that wasn't a tear!" he yelled, before letting out a low groan.
"We need to pull over now," Kurt ordered.
Brittany, who was sitting right behind Sam, was staring wide-eyed at the back of the headrest, unable to see much of the boy's body.
"We need to get away from that maniac," Sam said, his determination slightly overshadowed by the wavering in his voice.
"I really don't think he's going to be a problem anymore," Santana spoke up, eyes still fixed to Sam's shoulder, where blood was beginning to appear beneath his fingertips.
When Sam said nothing Santana snapped "Pull the damn car over before you crash it guppy face!"
Slowly, the car came to a stop, rolling to the side of the road.
They had made it just outside the small town of Grayville and were once again surrounded by farmland. It seemed the stream that they had been enjoying not more than a couple hours ago had followed their path, and was meandering down, slightly to the left of the main road.
Once the tires stopped moving, three sets of doors were flung open as Kurt, Brittany and Santana ran to the front door and yanked it open.
"Chill out guys, I'm fine," Sam said feebly.
"Oh…" was all Brittany said as she caught sight of the blood seeping from beneath Sam's fingers.
"Sam," Kurt whispered, staring into the boy's eyes, "What happened?"
"I dunno, thought I could get the gun from him or something, but managed to get in front of the bullet instead." Sam's eyelids fluttered closed.
"We need to move him," Santana said, looking at Kurt "Let's lay him in the back."
Kurt nodded.
"Can you get out?" Santana asked Sam.
"Yeah, I think so," Sam mumbled, pulling himself from the driver's seat but stumbling as his feet hit the ground. Brittany stepped forward to support him.
Kurt ran to the back of the car and opened the trunk and Santana dove into the backseat to grab the first aid kit, coming back in time to see Brittany hoisting Sam slowly into the back. Sam groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as Kurt situated him on the blankets lining the back of the car, and tenderly placed Sam's head on a pillow in his lap. Sam's shirt was stained red on the upper left side of his chest. For some reason this image disturbed Santana much more than any of the rotten corpses they had encountered up to this point.
Taking out a pair of scissors, Santana steadied her hand and began to slowly cut Sam's shirt down the middle, peeling it back once she had made her way up to the collar. The shirt clung slightly around the wound and Sam hissed as Santana tugged, trying to be as gentle as possible. Once the fabric was free, Santana looked down to assess the damage. She had never seen a real bullet wound before, aside from on TV. Now, all she could see was red and exposed flesh. Grabbing a water bottle, Santana slowly poured a trickle of water on Sam's chest, exposing the wound. Sam hissed again and clenched his eyes shut, turning his head in Kurt's lap. Gently, Santana traced her hand along Sam's back and felt nothing but smooth skin.
"No exit wound, so the bullet is still in there," Santana said slowly, her mind racing.
Sam groaned.
"Funny thing is, he was already stumbling when he fired, so it probably wouldn't have hit anyone anyway. Guess I'm just stupid." Sam coughed feebly.
"He's talking," Santana murmured, "that means his airway is probably clear…" she opened the first aid kit and grabbed a thick towel.
"Kurt," Santana said sharply, "Apply pressure on the bleeding, to keep circulation going."
Kurt nodded and grabbed the towel, pressing it to Sam's chest.
"Can you move your hands?" Santana asked.
Sam nodded, flexing his fingers, albeit very weakly.
"Good," Santana muttered to herself before she pressed two fingers to the inside of each wrist.
"Santana," Kurt said, voice pained "what can we do?"
"We're going to Fort Leonard Wood," Santana said firmly, "I can't get the bullet out, but I'm assuming they will have some sort of medical facilities at the base. Sam looks ok for now, but he's bleeding out and could go into shock at any point. Also, It's really hard to assess what's going on internally. Lots of times there's cavitation, that results from the shock wave of the bullet entering the body, or fragmentation, from the bullet itself. "
Kurt's already pale face turned white.
Brittany watched on in silence.
Sam had his eyes closed, but Santana was comforted to see his breathing was more or less regular.
"Hey," Santana said, attempting to adopt a comforting tone, "Good news is, it doesn't seem like any bones are broken, and if the bullet hit any main arteries or veins I'm sure there would be a lot more bleeding."
"How do you know any of this?" Kurt asked, staring at her nonplussed. He was still firmly pressing down on the wound with one hand, and brushing Sam's hair back with another.
Santana shrugged. "My dad's a doctor…and we're from Lima Heights. Knowing how to preliminarily assess a bullet wound was like…the first thing my brother and I learned when we graduated 5th grade."
"I learned how to tie my Velcro…" Brittany said, her voice laced with pride.
"Anyway, we need to get out of here ASAP," Santana said hurriedly.
Kurt nodded.
"You guys shouldn't move around too much back here, and he'll probably do better lying down," Santana said.
Again, Kurt nodded.
Brittany brought her lips to Sam's forehead.
"Get better Sammy."
Kurt looked away for a second, and Santana could see him blinking rapidly.
Santana leaned down and brought her lips close to Kurt's ear, speaking quickly and quietly.
"I know this is the last thing you want to hear, but there's something known as the "Golden Hour." It refers to the time when there is the highest chance of survival. After that it just gets worse. Now, Sam looks ok, but you really need to monitor him. If he looks cold, put blanket on him. If he's burning up, try and keep him cool. We want to put as little stress on his body as possible, to give us the most time…"
Santana looked at the back window, which was now shattered.
"If you need anything, just shout."
With that Santana gave Kurt's shoulder a squeeze, bent down and pecked Sam on the check before hopping out of the back and closing it.
Brittany was waiting when she turned around.
"I love you," Brittany said.
"I love you too," Santana said without hesitating.
Brittany gave her a small smile before leaning in a planting a small kiss on the corner of her mouth.
"Let's go."
As Santana made her way to the driver's door she took a look at the stream once more. Just as she did, she saw the unmistakable form of a person floating lifeless down the waterway.
As much as Santana had been annoyed when Kurt had insisted that he and Sam take over behind the wheel, she would easily give up lifelong driving privileges if it meant Sam would be ok.
That's not saying much nowadays. Santana thought snidely to herself. Words like 'lifelong' start to lose their meaning when you're stuck in the middle of a zombie apocalypse.
With that thought, Santana snorted. It hadn't even been a zombie that had injured Sam. To think that in this infested country, their biggest conflict would arise in fellow human beings.
"I've lost all faith in humanity," Santana said dully, glancing at Brittany quickly before returning her eyes to the road.
"Why?" Brittany asked, confused.
"Did you see what just happened back there B?" Santana said, a little more forcefully than she had intended, "I mean, that was just so…fucked up!"
Brittany gently stroked Santana's knuckles, where they were clenched over the center console.
"How is it that after everything that has happened to you…how can you still be so strong?" Santana asked, shakily.
Brittany didn't answer for a while, but her hand stopped its movement, and gripped Santana's hand.
"Because I have you," Brittany responded simply.
Santana felt her throat constrict painfully.
She continued driving.
An hour had passed.
"Hey B, can you check on them?" Santana asked.
Brittany nodded, squeezed Santana's hand, and carefully climbed into the backseat. Santana glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Brittany sticking her head through the broken window to talk to Kurt.
"Britt! Be careful!" Santana yelled, "The glass…" she trailed off feebly, knowing Brittany probably couldn't hear her with the outside noise.
"I swear to god," Santana muttered to herself, "We'll probably kill ourselves off before the zombies get a chance."
She pressed her foot further down on the gas, willing them to get to help faster.
Santana thought back to her fifth-grade self, and one of the first of many sit-down talks she had with her dad.
"Chest wounds are their own animal, Santana."
Santana's dad was looking down at her, where she was sitting in her chair, looking longingly outside at the bright blue sky and the kids playing on the street. She wondered if Brittany was playing right now.
"Are you listening Santana?"
"Yes Papi," Santana said quickly, "Chest wounds are animals."
The older man sighed, bringing his hand to rub his chin, scratching slightly.
"What I mean," he began, frowning slightly, "Is that they can be a lot more complex. There can be complications, different from the other injuries that I have already told you about."
Santana stared up at her dad quietly.
Sighing, the older man got up from his seat, "Just try and get to the doctor as quickly as possible, eh mija? That's the best thing you could do."
"So go to you Papi?" Santana asked, tilting her head to the side.
"Yes, come to me," the man said, giving her one of his rare smiles.
"Now come on, why don't you go outside and see what your friends are up to."
Squealing, Santana took off.
Tapping her fingers impatiently against the wheel, Santana looked up again.
Brittany was carefully extracting her head from the window.
"How is he?" Santana asked, the second Brittany was fully inside the car again.
"Kurt says it's hard to say," Brittany said slowly, climbing back up to the front seat, "Sam has basically been passed out this whole time, and the towel is really bloody, San. But Kurt also said he's still breathing normal."
Santana nodded, glancing at the clock.
It was getting late. Soon the sun would be setting once again. In the distance Santana could see wooded mountains rising up in front of them.
"We'll be good once we get over those guys," Santana said nodding to the hills, "Should be just on the other side."
"Mark Twain National Forest," Brittany said, reading from the map that was lying in her lap. "I wonder what Huck Finn would do if there was a zombie apocalypse," Brittany mused.
"Probably fake his own death," Santana said.
"Mmmhh," Brittany agreed, "Maybe."
Forty-five minutes later and they were making it into the green foothills, leading to the national park.
It had been a quiet drive since leaving Grayville, with Brittany making periodic check ups on Kurt and Sam, handing back water, snacks, and eventually a fresh towel through the busted window. Though Kurt informed them that the bleeding had slowed down, he also said that Sam was now shivering and sweating and there was a large amount of discoloration around the wound. Unable to see the wound herself, Santana wasn't sure if it was the normal amount of bruising that would result from any close-range gunshot, or, if perhaps, it was something more serious. In any case, there was nothing she would be able to do to help the boy. That thought alone made her want to scream.
Just try and get to the doctor. Santana repeated in her mind.
Looking down at the dashboard, Santana saw they were going 90 miles an hour. That was also when she noticed the status of the gas tank. It had less than a third left.
"Shit," Santana said quietly.
"What's up San?" Brittany asked.
"We're going to have to try and find another car, get some gas soon," Santana explained.
She groaned. "Ugh, we must have passed 10 cars in the last three hours. There's literally nothing out here, and there damn as well wont be anything once we get into those woods."
"Hey," Brittany said soothingly, rubbing her hands up and down Santana's back, "We'll find something."
Santana clenched her jaw, but nodded, refusing to think about what would happen if they didn't.
"The moon's come and gone but a few stars hang on to the sky," Santana began singing softly.
She could feel Brittany's eyes on her, but Santana kept her eyes on the road.
"The wind's runnin' free but it ain't up to me to ask why, The poets are demanding their pay, They've left me with nothin' to say…"
Brittany squeezed her hand.
"..'cept hold me and tell me you'll be here to love me today…"
Santana looked over at Brittany.
"Just hold me and tell me you'll be here to love me today."
"Where do you want to live when you grow up?" Brittany asked after a moments silence.
"Britt…" Santana began, "I don't think you can really ask those questions anymore."
"But I just did," Brittany pointed out.
"Yeah," Santana sighed, "I meant... life is different. I think I'm going to live where I'll be able to…well, you know, live."
"I think this is all going to be fixed one day," Brittany said, with a certainty that Santana was envious of, "and then, I want to live with you."
Despite herself, Santana couldn't help smiling.
"Where do you want to live?"
"I don't really care," Brittany shrugged.
"Then why did you ask me the question?" Santana asked, confused.
"Well obviously," Brittany said, as though explaining something extremely simple, "If I don't care where we're going to live once this is all over, then you have to decide. I just wanted to make sure it was someplace nice."
This was not the first time Santana wondered if it was truly possible to love someone as much as she loved Brittany.
"Can I think about it B?" she asked shyly, "This is a big decision."
"Totally," Brittany said, giving her a smile, and leaning over to give her a kiss.
Twenty minutes later and Santana had turned her headlights on.
Not only was the sun setting, but they were now also making their way through thickly wooded areas, with darkness pressing in from all sides. Brittany had thrown a thick jacket into the back for Kurt to wear, and Sam was covered in blankets. She was now peeling an orange and feeding Santana slices.
Santana was sure this would be a beautiful area during the day, but just like when they had been in the woods earlier, she couldn't help but feel vulnerable. She insisted that Brittany keep her gun on her, as well as provide one for Kurt.
Brittany had tried the radio earlier, thinking that there might be a broadcast from the base if they were close enough. However, just like the first morning of infection every station and getting nothing but static, Santana assured Brittany that it was likely that they were still too far out. Even with her driving, there was still over an hour left on their journey. As darkness fell upon them, Santana had to slow down considerably. The road had become quite windy once they had entered into the national park, with turns appearing what seemed like every thirty feet. Brittany was looking slightly queasy, and Santana had to once again appreciate how end of the world circumstances did nothing to cure such simple things as road sickness.
Santana kept driving.
Out of the left-hand corner of her eye, Santana thought she saw something move in the darkness. A figure perhaps. Shaking her head, Santana gripped the wheel a little tighter.
They kept driving.
Five minutes later and Santana was sure she saw something again, but this time off to the right-hand side of the road.
"Britt," Santana said cautiously, "did you just see anything?"
"I don't know…" Brittany said slowly, "I think so."
Santana didn't know what to do. All instincts were telling her to speed up and jet out of the forest, but the nature of the road made that almost impossible.
Then she saw one.
A zombie. Making its way out of the trees not twenty feet in front of them. Slowly, Santana brought her foot further down on the peddle. The car picked up speed, and they hit the walking corpse with enough momentum to send it flying. However, as they did, the car lurched, and even Santana was able to hear Sam's groan of agony from the back.
"Santana!" Kurt yelled, "What was that?"
But Santana wasn't able to answer; too distracted by the sight in front of her.
Zombies. Emerging from behind every tree, appearing out of the darkness. Ten. Twenty. Thirty. Forty. Santana didn't try to count. Fifty feet ahead the zombies were meeting to form a solid wall. A mass of bodies, wriggling against the blackness of the sky. The high beams were just hitting the front line, but it was enough for Santana to tell that it wouldn't be enough to just pick up speed and drive through them. There were too many.
Santana slowed the car down, but even as shed did that, figures were closing in on their left and right. In her rearview mirror, Santana could see the same thing occurring behind them. She stopped the car.
They were stuck.
"I love you B," Santana said quickly, "now get your guns, get everything. Make sure Kurt has stuff."
Brittany nodded and quickly set to work.
Then the gunshots began, as Kurt started shooting with the gun Brittany had handed him earlier.
"Damn it, Damn it!" Santana shouted, "They need to be inside the car."
"It's too late San," Brittany said, "We wouldn't be able to move Sam in time."
Brittany was checking all the guns for ammo. Once they were all loaded, she pressed one into Santana hand.
"This is it."
"I would want to live in Paris," Santana said.
"What?" Brittany asked, confused.
"After this, after everything," Santana explained quickly, "I want to leave this fucking country, and take you to Paris."
Brittany gave her a soft smile.
"Well, lets try and get there baby." With that, the blonde turned around, lowered her window a crack and began shooting.
Santana turned to do the same.
Three minutes later and Santana was panicking. Their non-stop shooting was keeping the zombies temporarily at bay, but Santana was counting bullets in her head, and knew she would have to stop and reload momentarily.
The figures were drawing closer, and all Santana could think about was Sam and Kurt in the back. Kurt was standing up and turning this way and that. He wasn't nearly as good a shot as Brittany, and it was showing. The zombies were making their way closer to the back of the car. Both Santana and Brittany moved to the backseat, with Brittany using the butt of her gun to knock away the remaining shards of glass that had once been the back window. Once it was clear, Brittany stuck her gun through and began rapid fire. Santana had the window on her side lowered just enough that her gun could peek through. As they were doing this, a number of zombies had made it to the front of the car. Turning her attention swiftly from the back, Santana shot towards the front, hitting a corpse that had been close to the front door.
Click. Click.
Out of ammo.
Frantically Santana released the clip and began to shove bullets in.
Just then the passenger seat window shattered as a zombie tried to make its way inside the car.
Turning in her place, Brittany shot it in the head.
Without the help of the two girls, Kurt was quickly overwhelmed. With zombies approaching on all sides, and without the protection of car doors and windows, he and Sam were the most exposed; the most vulnerable.
Sam was still passed out and shaking, Kurt standing over him, a look of horror masking his face, as what seemed like an endless amount of figures crawled out of the woods.
A zombie began lifting itself up the back of the car. Kurt managed to hit it, and while the bullet acted as a deterrent, he hadn't managed to hit the brain or spinal cord, and the figure was soon clambering back up.
Santana moved to cover the back window, with Brittany now shooting out the passenger window, where rotten hands were gripping the frame.
Suddenly the window nearest the drivers seat came crashing down. Brittany moved closer to the middle, extending her arms to the right and left, a handgun clutched in each, and began continuous firing.
This is it.
Santana pulled the trigger and a zombie that had nearly made it over the side of the trunk toppled back, only to be absorbed by the hoard.
Kurt had switched to his knives, and soon twice as many zombies were staggering back. But even more than the bullets, knives were an exhaustible resource.
The window nearest Santana shattered and she had to bring her gun from the back and point it out the side in order to prevent the rotten bodies from getting in. Santana heard Kurt scream, but couldn't look over due to the presence less than two feet from her.
Then there was the sound of another gun firing.
Despite herself, Santana looked back for a second and was just able to make out Sam, propped on one elbow and clutching a gun in one hand, firing at the closest zombie. The blanket covers now pushed aside, Santana could see Sam's wound had reopened; blood dribbling down his chest.
That was enough.
Santana turned back to the window where a zombie had made it halfway in, during her lapse in attention.
"San!" Brittany warned, taking a second to glance over.
Santana shot the zombie in the head and bits of brain flew around the inside of the car. The zombie remained slumped in the window.
Maybe that will act as a bit of a deterrent. Santana couldn't help but hope.
Just as the thought crossed her mind however, scabbed hands began pulling the body away from the window.
Santana felt a hand grip hers. Brittany had put down her one of her guns in order to lace her fingers with Santana's.
She knows. Santana thought sadly, clutching Brittany's hand with all her might.
The car was rocking with the force of bodies pressed against its sides.
The final window smashed.
They were being suffocated on all sides.
Brittany and Santana were turning this way and that, but their movement had slowed.
This is it. Santana thought once more.
Stopping her firing momentarily, Santana took that time to look at Brittany; to really look at her. It was hard in such low lighting, but even with the small shimmer afforded by the headlights, Santana was sure she had never seen anyone so beautiful. Always in sync, Brittany turned her head towards Santana.
"I have you," Brittany said before leaning in and capturing her lips.
Santana could feel something grabbing at her arms and clenched her eyes tighter, focusing only on the feeling of Brittany's lips moving against hers.
Calm.
That's when the world around them exploded.
Santana gasped and pulled back.
Brittany's face was now illuminated as, with what seemed to be timed detonations, the forest around them blew up in flames. Santana could feel the heat from the roaring inferno, and could just hear the sounds of popping flesh, from the multitude of bodies hidden in the trees.
Grabbing her gun once more, Santana began firing with abandon at those figures lingering at the car.
Santana had to shield her eyes. Everything was so bright. So hot.
A new noise met their ears and Santana looked out the front window, just making out three vehicles approaching them. The closer they got, Santana could see they were army green Jeeps, with people leaning out the sides, guns in hand, firing at the zombies that had not been caught in the flames.
Finally the vehicles were less than twenty feet away.
"FOLLOW US!" a man yelled, leaning far out from the side of one of the cars, before shooting a zombie that had been clambering at the front door of the Escalade.
Santana looked back and saw that both Sam and Kurt were still there. Sam had stopped shooting and was lying back, almost completely still.
Moving quickly, Santana jumped into the front seat. The vinyl burned and she was sure she was sitting on glass, but at that point none of that mattered. The jeeps had all begun to turn around.
Grabbing the steering wheel, Santana slammed her foot down on the gas.
The car shot forward and with that they were on their way, leaving the burning forest in their wake.
Well, there you go. Hope you enjoyed. Let me know your thoughts.
The next chapter is on its way, I will try and get it to you sooner than this last chapter.
Cheers.
