Chapter 6: Fresh Faces
46 Days After the National Outbreak
BPOV:
The sounds of rustling wake me up. My eyes shoot open and my hand grabs for my knife as I flip onto my back, looking in the direction of the sound. Even in the ink black darkness, I can see his figure looming over me. He's watching me, his eyes skittish as he removes his hand from my backpack. Sitting up, I make sure he sees my knife in hand as I meet his eyes. His eyes are a green so dark, they look as black as the night surrounding us, and soulful, for a moment, I'm captivated by them. There's a strange electricity between us which throws me for a moment. My eyes flutter as I bring my attention back to the matter at hand. He's trying to rob me of the few supplies I have left, and I can't let that happen, regardless of this strange energy between us.
"What the fuck are you doing?" I bite out, sounding far stronger than I feel.
"I'm sorry..." he stutters out. "I thought you were asleep."
Choking on a laugh, I reply, "So you were going to rob me while I slept? That's so much better." I roll my eyes in disbelief. Although, I don't know why I'm surprised. Far worse is happening in the world than this. Just listening to stories of other people's misfortunes on the police scanner I found causes me to feel grateful. With stories of cannibalism circulating, I shouldn't be too horrified by the idea of someone robbing me while I sleep. However, that doesn't soothe the anger boiling inside of me. I thought with all the shit flying around, we would find a way to band together instead of practicing the "every man for himself" mentality.
"Look, I'm fucking desperate. I haven't had a sip of water since yesterday morning. What the hell do you want me to do?"
"Not steal from me. That's what I'd like you to do."
I watch his shoulders slump in the darkness and suddenly, I feel disappointed in myself. This isn't me. However, it seems this is what I've become. It's a hard, unforgiving world out here and I guess I have to be hard and unforgiving, too. It's the only way to stay alive, isn't it? Since I left home, I've been alone and I'd like to keep it that way. I know some people like to stick together, but I feel being alone helps strengthen my chances of survival a great deal. If I'm alone, no one can take advantage of me, no one can screw me over; if I'm alone, I'm safe. For now.
"Look, I'm sorry. But I think you have enough to share."
His insistence pisses me off. He seems to feel he's entitled to what's mine. No "please," not an ounce of politeness in his tone. This guy has some nerve… but he also looks exhausted. Even in the unforgiving darkness, I can see that. He looks like he hasn't slept well in a very long time. I know I must look similarly. I can't remember the last time I had a good night's rest. I can't remember the last time images of my family haven't haunted me. They're waiting for me, and here I am, taking my own sweet time. I feel like I'm letting them down. However, I know they're not going anywhere. They can't survive out here on their own. They would be killed. Of course, if they aren't "dead" already. They aren't dead, Bella. They're still breathing. They're not the people they once were, but they're still your family. Thinking of them brings joy to my frozen heart and before I know what I'm doing, I'm reaching for my bag, my eyes never leaving the man before me, and grabbing a bottle of water. I have six bottles left, so I suppose I can spare this one. This stranger needs it more than me and I know if I were the one in need, I'd hope someone else would do the same.
"Here." I hand him the bottle and he all but snatches it out of my hands.
He quickly untwists the top and drinks half the bottle. Once he's had his fill, he pulls the bottle away from his mouth and slowly twists the lid back into place. His eyes are softer now and his whole demeanor has become less threatening. Suddenly, the moonlight shines down on us, the clouds moving out of the way, and I can see his face. Despite his thick beard and dirty appearance, I can tell he was once a very handsome man. Still is, I suppose, if he found a shower and a hairbrush. Looking into his eyes, any fears I had concerning him diminish. His eyes are soft and friendly, such a contrast to his striking facial features. A soft smile tugs on my lips, which grows as he smiles in return.
"Thank you. I haven't seen another human being for days."
"Truly?"
"Well, it's felt like days."
It's silent for a heartbeat before I ask, "So, where are you headed?"
I don't know why I care. I doubt he's going to the same place as me. However, something about him draws me in. Like we were supposed to find each other. Perhaps he's the answer to my unspoken prayers. Perhaps he can help me save my family. Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but I feel like there's something that's brought us together. I can't put my finger on it exactly. It's just gut instinct, I suppose.
"I don't know." There's an edge to his voice. "I'm looking for someone."
"And you have no idea where they've gone?"
He shakes his head, staring off into the night.
"This someone… is important to you?"
"Very."
"I'm sorry you've lost them then. I understand the feeling."
My husband and child shouldn't feel lost to me, but they do. While I'm still hopeful, part of me is also realistic. I want to push all the logical thoughts away; the voices in my head which convince me this is all for nothing. Maybe my family will never get better, but could I live with myself if I didn't at least try to save them?
"Thank you," he whispers, gazing down at my miniscule fire.
"Do you think they went far?" I ask after a pregnant pause.
"I have no idea. I just hope she's safe."
She? His wife, then? God, I feel his pain, as well. Having to live without your loved one feels impossible at times. I can't imagine how he must feel, not knowing where his wife is, not knowing what happened to her.
"I'm sure she's all right," I say, wanting to reassure this stranger, who no longer feels like a stranger anymore.
"I don't know," he responds, unconvinced. "I hope she is. I just thought I'd find her by now. I can't imagine that she got very far."
"Were you two seperated?"
He nods, and cringes at the movement, his head shooting up to grab ahold of his shoulder. My eyes drop to the source of his pain and widen when I take in the site of his poorly bandaged wound. It's seeping still and I know if it's not properly cared for soon, it will become infected. An infection is the last thing a person needs at a time like this. We don't know what caused the virus. I don't know if the virus is airborne or what. This isn't the time to take chances with one's health.
"How did you manage to do that?"
"I was shot. Someone tried to take our sanctuary and we fought back." He pauses for a moment before adding, "You should see the other guy." A humorless laugh escapes his mouth as his posture stiffens.
"I can look at it for you. I used to be a nurse before all of this."
"I don't think that's necessary," he remarks.
"Really? It seems to hurt a great deal. Besides, you don't want a wound like that to go untreated properly. It could get infected if you're not keeping it clean and using antibiotics."
I reach for my pack, pulling out the small medical supply kit I've kept well-hidden. If someone robs me of food or water, it's better because finding that is far easier than finding medical supplies. All the pharmacies were raided right away. Thankfully, I brought all of this stuff with me from home because by the time I re-entered the world, and discovered the mess it had become, everyone scavenged all the medicine nearby. Until I make it to the hospital, which is probably another eight miles away if my calculations are correct, these supplies are all I have. And who knows, maybe I'll get there to find it's been cleaned out as well.
"Let me see the wound," I insist, moving closer to him.
He cringes away from me, but removes his hand from where it laid covering the wound. Reaching into my first-aid kit, I pull out a pair of rubber gloves and slip them on because I don't know anything about this new virus, I can't take any chances. I remove the gauze bandage he has wrapped around the wound to find puss surrounding the small bullet hole on his right shoulder.
"You're lucky you chose me to attempt to steal from. If this wound had become any more infected, you would have died."
"You don't think it will come to that?" he questions, his voice dark and tense.
"No. I think we can get through this."
"Good, because I have to find her."
"Who, your wife?" I question as I hand him a Cephalexin and his bottle of water, after making sure he wasn't allergic to penicillin.
He takes the capsule and swallows it with a small sip of water before answering me. "She's my girlfriend. But I was hoping to make her more before all of this," he says, waving his hand around, "happened."
"You'll find her," I comment, my voice soft. "But first, you have to take care of yourself. She might need your help when you find her and you're not in the condition to help anyone right now."
I begin to clean his wound with antiseptic. I clean the entrance and exit wound to the best of my ability before grabbing a clean, cloth bandage to wrap his wound with. His body tenses as I begin to tightly wrap the wound. Considering how horrible it looks, I'm surprised he's made it this far. His complexion alone suggests that he's lost a good deal of blood and while I don't want to see him go, I wonder how much longer he truly has.
"You're lucky to still be breathing," I say mildly. I finish wrapping him up and take a moment to smile at my handiwork. "There, you're in much better shape."
Suddenly, I realize how close I am to him. In the dark of the night with this intense energy pulsating between us, I forget about everything else… just for a moment. As I look up into his dark, wounded eyes, I feel like we're the only two people in the world. Which, I suppose, doesn't take any creativity to imagine on my part. Now that everyone has left the city and moved north, it really does feel like we're the only ones left. I'm quick to stop romanticizing the quiet as the sound of silence grows eerie. Although I feel like we're alone out here, I know that's far from the case. They're out here somewhere; lurking in wait for their next meal. God, please, don't ever let me die like that. It's so horrific; so brutal.
"Were you alone when you were shot?" I question.
He frowns and shakes his head at this. "No. I was with my friend… my best friend from childhood."
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay. I don't think he died in the fight. When I woke up again, I looked and couldn't find his body among all of those dead things."
"So, he just left you there?"
As soon as the question flies out of my mouth, I realize how harsh it sounds. Suddenly, my heart truly goes out to this stranger. I don't think I could leave my friend behind, regardless of the circumstances. Even if it meant I was merely dragging away their dead body, I wouldn't leave them anywhere. The thought of his childhood friend leaving him for dead makes me realize how truly horrifying this entire situation is. People are really turning on each other. And not just strangers, but friends and family, too. I guess it's the time to be selfish… although, being selfish right now seems so cruel to me. There's people out there who need another person's help. Would people really deny others of items they could easily provide? Is that really survival? Yes, it's survival of the fittest, Bella. If you want to save someone, save yourself.
Finally, he answers me. "I guess he did." He pauses for a moment, gazing thoughtfully into the night. "I'm sure he had a good reason, though. He wouldn't just leave me behind. We've been part of each other's lives since we were babies. He's my brother for all intents and purposes. Something must've happened. There has to be a damned good reason as to why he left me, but whatever the reason, I forgive him. I know he would want me to leave him behind if it meant putting my own life at risk to save him."
I nod, although I don't entirely understand this. When I love someone, I love hard, and I would fight for them until my dying breath. I guess I couldn't imagine being so logical about everything. My heart would get in the way, I'm sure. I wouldn't be able to think about the risks involved in saving a loved one. I would be far too busy trying to save them to think about it. He continues to tell me about the raid and about the deaths, glossing over his own killings. Finally, he starts talking about his girlfriend, Kate, and my heart breaks for him.
"So, when you looked, you didn't find your girlfriend's body, either?"
"I didn't find it." He pauses for a moment and I watch him, filled with empathy as I view his eyes filling with tears. "I know she's out there somewhere. She's got to be. I just can't imagine living without her."
"I understand. You'll find her. Have faith."
"Easier said than done," he remarks with a small frown.
"Is she headed north like everyone else?"
"I don't know. We've talked about moving toward D.C. or NYC, where I heard they're working on a cure."
"I'm heading north," I tell him, shocked by the way my words sound like an open invitation. Perhaps they are. Maybe deep down, beneath the layers of fear, I really do need some company. If I want to save my family, I know, deep down, that I can't do it alone. I need someone to help me… and this man needs someone to help him. I bite down on my lip for a second, trying to hold back the words as I mull them over in my mind. Just do it, Bella! This is a new and terrifying world. You know you don't want to do this by yourself. While craving independance, I still enjoy help and comfort from others every now and then. "Would you like help looking for her...?" I ask, feeling uncertain and almost embarrassed.
He regards me for a moment, looking thoughtful as he searches for what to say next to me. "I guess I can use it. I've been a complete failure on my own."
"Well, we're both headed in the same direction. I would feel bad not helping…" I trail off, prompting him to give me his name.
"Oh, Edward. Edward Cullen."
Handsome name for a handsome man.
"And your name?" he questions, causing me to realize the fact that I was blatantly staring at him.
"Bella Swan."
"Bella Swan," he repeats back. I like the way his voice sounds when he says my name. He makes it sound like he's talking about someone important, although, I'm far from that.
"Thank you, Bella."
He smiles at me and I smile back as the pit of my gut tells me that this will be the first step on the road I'm supposed to be on. For a moment, I feel like the stars have aligned and everything is as it should be. Except, it isn't. It isn't yet. Not with these creatures around. But, someday soon, the world will be wonderful again.
"Is it bad to be hopeful, you think?" I ask, tilting my head back to enjoy the sight of the stars, shining in the sky.
"No," he answers after a long while. "Hope is all we have left."
A/N: Because I'm just as clumsy as Bella, I hurt my "good" knee and back last night, so please send me so positive vibes. And don't forget to review! This story is going to get so much more exciting now that they're together!
