Here's the next installment, kind of a bloody chapter. I hope you guys are still reading! I'm sorry it's been so long! College takes up most of my writing time! Enjoy and review!
M-Rated Chapter: For use of language and for details of gore.
"You were bitten, no surprise that you wouldn't be immune."
"Are you saying that because I'm British? Because I'll have you know, we are cleaner than your polluted country." Michael sneered as he and Nick continued to stand guard while Isabelle searched the house.
Nick turned to him with a look of utter annoyance before his eyes darted to the doorway, "You know who's gonna have to put you down if you do turn," He began before his attention returned to the Michael. "It isn't gonna be Isabelle." the British man snorted and decided to ignore the insult that was aimed at him. Surely, Nicolas didn't think that Michael wasn't immune. Did he?
"Making it sound as if I'm a dog that contracted a rabid disease," Michael snorted again as a scowl graced his gruff features. "Oh-no-wait, that is what this Green Flu pandemic is, a bad case of the rabies. Yes, that is exactly what it is." He said mockingly. "Goes to show how irresponsible Americans are."
"Right," Nick nodded before throwing his jacket at Michael's head. "Coming from the British asshole that managed to get arrested in America."
Removing the jacket from his head he managed to shove it in Nick's chest, before either man could do anything more, Isabelle stepped out of the house with an annoyed look on her face. "If you both think I'm gonna be baby-sitting you until we find the others, than you are sadly mistaken."
"He was being racist," Nick hooked his thumb in Michael's direction. "Talking 'bout all kinds of shit that doesn't make sense."
Isabelle murmured something to herself before she tossed a pipe bomb to Michael, she then turned towards Nick and slapped a box of ammunition into his arms. "Found this in the house, might be useful but I don't know how to set it up."
The conman gave a light scoff while holding the yellow case by handle, "And you think I do?"
Before either could comment, Michael grabbed the case from his hand before getting on his knees and unbuckling the lid. Michael began to slowly deploy the rounds before finally beginning to load his pump shotgun with the newly equipped ammo.
"They appear to be incendiary ammo, basically, whatever you shoot becomes engulfed in flames." He said while sliding the pump downwards.
Isabelle's eyebrows perked up before she kneeled down beside him, "How many?"
"Twenty-four shells," He responded as Nick began loading his gun as well. "But these ones," Michael then held up a sub-machine gun bullet for her to observe. "There's fifty of these for your sub."
"So in other words, we have to use them sparingly." Nick remarked.
"Precisely," Michael replied. "We should save them for the bigger fish." He stood up on his feet before pocketing half of the other shells, needless to say, the action allowed both Isabelle and Nick to see that his blood was seeping down to his wrist. She knew that the thin black cloth wouldn't continue to provide proper support much longer.
"We really need to find a first aid kit or something Michael."
Michael looked down towards his wound before shrugging without a care, "It's fine." Isabelle reached out towards his arm but at the last second he hastily recoiled from her touch. "I said it's fine!" He snapped before turning around to walk down the rest of the path that lead towards the inner part of town.
"Michael wait!" Isabelle shouted but the British man was already rounding the corner. "Man."
"What's his deal?" Nick asked as he and Isabelle followed the path.
"He seems really pissy for some reason, I hope he's alright." She sighed.
Nick snorted before bringing out his pistol and shooting down an oncoming infected in the head, "He seriously needs to get over it, it's Robert all over again."
Her eyebrows were pulled together in thought before she turned to Nick and noticed that he held a certain gleam in his eyes. Talking about his brother tended to bring up a fury of different emotions. Mostly ranging from jealousy to hurt. "Do you think Sylvia made it out of here?"
His green eyes darted to her own before they returned to pay attention up ahead, "Knowing my ma? She probably pretended that she was a senior citizen in order to get in front."
A chuckle slipped past her lips as they come towards a building to their left, judging from the appearance on the inside, it seemed to have been a bar of some sorts. They made their way inside and immediately found Michael sitting at a table that was placed in front of a jukebox. He was currently doing a horrid job of wrapping his bite wound, something that made Isabelle smile sadly at.
She walked over to him before plopping herself down across from him, Michael eyed her warily before allowing her to take over his poor attempt. The blood hasn't clotted yet, I'm getting worried.
"Where'd you find the med kit?" Nick asked before standing in front of the jukebox and deciding to thumb through the song choices.
"Beneath the counter," Michael stated. "Lucky me I suppose."
"Yeah," Isabelle nodded with a weak smile gracing her chapped pink lips. "I guess so." His hand grasped her wrist which prevented her from double knotting the bandages. She gazed up at him and noted how the ruptured blood vessels in his eyes made his green irises appear darker than normal.
Michael lowered his head to her level before speaking in a deathly cold tone, "I am immune you know, just because this bloody bite won't stop bleeding, doesn't mean I'm going to turn into one of them."
"No one's implying that you aren't," Nick put in as he looked over his shoulder to look at the man's back. "So calm down will ya?"
"No one is talking to you." Michael snapped while turning around to glare at Nick.
"Well I'm talking to you now, so you're gonna have ta deal with it."
Isabelle's blue orbs diverted to Michael's hand which was still grasping her nimble wrist in a secure hold. She watched with hesitation as his fingers began to slowly tighten with no intention of letting go.
"I'm going to have to deal with it?" Michael repeated before turning his body to the right in order to get a better view of the man. "No, I don't have to. In fact, you need to just accept the fact that not everything involves you. I know it's hard Nicolas, but do try."
"I'm the narcissist? Coming from the same asshole that checks himself out in almost every object with a reflection in it." Nick threw back at him before fully turning around to face him.
His hand was shaking violently now, Isabelle could feel it, and for a split moment she felt as though her teeth were rattling along with it. A sudden pop was heard, and Isabelle's lips were pulled back as she cried out from the sudden feeling. Both men looked towards her before Michael realized what he had subconsciously done.
"You dumb fucking moron!" Nick snarled as he gripped Michael's forearm and pulled him away from her. This allowed Isabelle to cradle her wrist to her chest while gently feeling it; he had managed to bruise her wrist, she realized, she could still move it around but only to a certain degree without it being to painful to bear.
Nick gave Michael one last glare before he focused on Isabelle once again, "You okay?"
Isabelle nodded while placing her arm back down on the table; she refused to cradle it any longer, even though it was still throbbing painfully, she wasn't interested in making things worse for Nick. Or Michael for that matter.
"Are you sure?" He pressed.
"Yes, now can we please leave so we can meet up with the others?"
Michael rose from the chair and in that moment, Isabelle caught him grimacing as his dark green eyes remained fixed on her. More so her arm when he had nearly cracked it in the process. He didn't know why he had done that, he couldn't even begin to fathom the reason why. He just remembered the ugly dark anger beginning to fill his mind when Nick and him went at it. Michael had completely forgotten he had been gripping Isabelle's wrist.
And when he heard her cry out, it pained him even more.
"You should just kill me now." He said softly as the couple looked at him.
"What are you talking about?" Isabelle asked with worry seeping into her tone.
"It's obvious somethings wrong with me," Michael snapped before balling his hand into a fist. "And if you don't do away with me now, I'll most likely kill you both!"
"That's ridiculous Michael," Isabelle quickly said. "There is nothing wrong with you, you're okay-better than okay!- Michael," she repeated his name while her voice pitched to it's highest level. "You're fine!" Lying through her teeth was not something that she was new to, she had been doing it for years. But somehow this time, it seemed to affect her emotionally. Telling someone they we're fine was a death sentence according to Isabelle. And saying it to Michael, was going to speed up the process. She had encountered the Green Flu's victims before it became an pandemic, she remembered being called to multiple homes and public areas while she and Spence were on duty. Many of the victims had the symptoms that Michael was beginning to show; Irritability, bleeding, ruptured blood vessels in the eyes. In due time, he would become one of them. A soulless creature out for blood, how long will she continue to shield him from the inevitable truth? No! He's immune, I know it. Michael's fine, it's just a wound. Her mind insisted as she fought against the truth. She refused to believe that she would lose him too.
Nick took the opportunity to clench his jaw before his fingertips brushed against the cold handle of his newly acquired magnum. The desire to protect himself and Isabelle escalated to top priority upon seeing Michael's wound. Since the time he had vomited, Nick knew he was going to be the one to end it if the situation called for it. His index finger slowly settled on the trigger lightly while he began to lift it from his holster. Nick remembered coming across a young woman, before he had ran into Rochelle and the others, who urged him to shoot her. She was beginning to turn right before his very eyes, and even though she had to be at least seventeen or so, it didn't stop him from carrying out her final wish.
And yet, her blood had stained his hands.
It wasn't until after she had fallen before him dead, that Nick found out the horrible truth. The infection had clouded her mind and made the young girl insane, it clouded her vision and blocked her brain from bringing out the memories of Nick. He at first didn't recognize her, due to the blood that coated her lips and around her face entirely and the sickly pale green her skin was turning did not help. But when she fell dead before him, Nick had bent down and brushed her dark hair aside in order to reveal the prominent birthmark that sat on her neck.
The same one that his niece had...
Michael held his face in his hands before they skimmed up and ran through his blonde spikes; Isabelle saw the blood dripping down his nose and followed the line of his pursued lips. The sight was heartbreaking as she watched him pace before her. From the corner of her eyes she saw that Nick was close to pulling out his gun; hastily she pressed her hand down on the back of his before urging him out of the bar and into the early morning air. "What are you doing Nicolas?" she hissed.
"Doing him a favor."
"You can't kill him, you won't."
"Are you gonna stop me?" Nick demanded as his voice and fell into the usual tone it did when he was becoming irritated or angry.
Isabelle's eyes landed on their joined hands covering the butt of his gun; she had witnessed Nick kill a man before. But somehow, she couldn't-wouldn't-let him kill Michael, and yet who was she to stop him? It was obvious Nick would have the upper hand in this situation, if he saw a threat, he was gonna deal with it like he always he had. This was no different to him, but to Isabelle it was different. She had grown to care for the criminal, he was her teammate and she was his.
Teammates looked out for one another. Teammates protected each other. Teammates died for each other.
"He's turning and you know it," Nick began in his husky dark tone. "It's only a matter of time before he becomes one of them. It's better to deal with him now while he has his humanity."
"It works for you because you can get away with murder now is that it?" She responded while slowly looking up at him. "Your killing a man, Nicolas, a human being."
"I'm killing a man that's gonna turn into a damn cannibal is what I'm doing."
"Michael is gonna be fine, he's gonna pull through, I know it."
"Coming from a trained EMT? You know the symptoms of the Green Flu Isabelle, you know what happens to the people who aren't immune. Michael isn't immune sweetheart, as fucked up as that sounds you know it's true. Giving him false hope isn't gonna make this situation any easier. Putting him out of his misery will. You want him to kill us when we least expect it? Or when we re-group with the others, who's to say he won't kill any of them? Be logical about this babe, we're both in danger. Now as fucked as this sounds, I don't want to be ripped apart by a zombie. A British zombie at that. It'll suck if he ends up ruining my suit when he's disemboweling me and tearing apart my-"
"Ok I get it!"
Her grip on his hand eased up and soon her hand fell from his; she hated when Nick was right. Even if it was only 50% of the time he was, it still crushed her pride a little and made her stubborn streak grow. Releasing the heavy sigh she had been holding, she was met with his arm encircling her waist.
"Your such a know it all jerk."
"Street smart is what I am, you have to learn how to shut up and let me just go along with what I have in mind."
Michael watched with envious eyes as the two of them became lost in each other's arms, it bugged him to say the least and made his unexplainable rage grow dangerously high. He licked his lips which caused him to taste the metallic liquid that had lightly coated them; his taste buds seemed to explode upon savoring the liquid. He reached up and rubbed the excess blood off from his upper lip and then he stuck his finger in his mouth and licked away at the blood.
"Oh great," he mumbled. "Now I'm acting like a Twihard vampire, too bad I don't sparkle."
His green eyes became locked on something to his right, in the kitchen area of the bar, he noticed a body sprawled on the cement floor. His hunger walked him the rest of the way, and as Michael stopped he noticed that the body was that of a woman. Her blonde hair was tousled and spread out on the floor around her head; her eyes were closed shut and prevented him from seeing her eye color. He found himself slowly dropping down to his knees as he ran his eyes over her frame. She was beautiful no doubt, her pale skin illuminated in the dim lighting while one of her polished hands laid flat over her chest. The other was missing it seemed. Michael noticed the waitress uniform she had died in was obscured by the dark blood that stained the front of it.
He reached over and placed his hand on her mutilated body; her blood was fresh and even though it was still cold, he had to guess she died yesterday. Because of her closed eyes and slightly parted mouth, it appeared that she was still alive even after her attacker had left her for dead.
Michael leaned forward and dug his hand into the remainder of her stomach; the squishing sounds her insides were making didn't faze him. His mind screamed for him to stop but his hunger urged him and forced him to continue in order to satisfy his craving. Upon retracting his hand, he immediately cupped the blood in his palm and brought it to his eager lips.
He sipped the waitress's blood while he savored the flavor, he would've liked it warm and fresh but this would have to satisfy his hunger for now. He dipped his hand back into her stomach and began to pull out her intestines, eying them as though they were packaged sausages. Michael had woven his hand with them. He stopped himself and felt the bile coming back up but he managed to swallow it down as he leaned forward and helped himself.
This was beyond the border line of sanity.
Beyond the point of humanity.
Most of all, it was a step into becoming a monster.
Michael knew this and yet he continued to devour the remains of the waitress as he began to ignore his surroundings. He used both of his hands to scoop out more of his food, while licking his lips to rid of the excess of blood coating them. He gorged himself handful after handful while ignoring and blocking out the sounds of the horde of the infected outside; he ignored the sounds of his greedy slurps and loud chewing. Nothing matter anymore. He needed to satisfy the hunger that was gnawing at him, and earlier it urged him to devour Isabelle but he ignored the demand and managed to control it.
Her name tag shined brightly up at him, almost as if it was a call to stop Michael and snap him out of his crazed state.
Cadence...
Michael closed his eyes and continued to scarf it all down to the point that the blood was dripping down his chin and neck. It truly made him look like a monster, a monster who had lost his soul. He didn't expect this to happen so soon, he thought he still had time to stop the infection, but now he knew it was too late. Nothing could stop him now except a bullet to the head.
Isabelle had followed the strange noises back into the bar, Nick had gone up ahead to scout the convenience store. She stood there and watched Michael from over the counter as he continued to devour the remains of the waitress. Her hand rose up to her mouth as she slowly inhaled a deep breath, her eyes wanted nothing more then to stop watching the massacre, but she couldn't stop.
She made the mistake of releasing a gasp and when she did, Michael seized his feeding and slowly brought his bloody eyes to meet her horrified blue ones.