All too easy. Tuan was a fool.
Smirking in his usual cocky manner, Samual moved down the halls of his rundown school. Posters advertising for the new student school council hung in bright colors on the walls, their fancy writing dark and bold to carch one's eye. He just passed them, never even taking note of the occasional spray of blood that still slowly dripped down.
He had a plan. Even better was the fact that it was a simple plan. Everyone was going to slow him down. They were going to bring these crazy things to them.
And he didn't want to die, no sir. Plain and simple. He wanted to live, even it if it meant leaving the pathetic group of worthless people behind. He was smarter then to stay them. His keys barely jangled in his pocket and he put his hand over them to silence any possible noise. One could never be too safe, yeah?
A low moan came from his right and when he looked, he was surprised to see it was one of his ex-girlfriends.
"Alannah? Looks like you got fucked . . . big time!" chuckled Samual. And, indeed, it did. Her blonde hair was in its normal style, curly and in two ponytails, but it was messy and there was a piece of drying bubblegum in one of the ponytails. Her generally mysterious brown eyes had a soulless and hard look. Those long legs that Samual loved to caress when they cuddled -
More like when I felt her up!
- were exposed and showing off bite marks that were too deep to be love bites. He also noticed that her ankle was slightly swollen.
"You probably tripped when running for your life, right, Alannah? Too bad, so sad," he said, faking a frown, then he simply walked out of her reach.
Too easy.
The tall blue gates to the parking lot came into view as he turned the corner. And, if you looked in the right plane, you could even see the yellow mustang that belonged to the egotistical Samual. It just sat there, waiting for the moment the key sparked the engine and it would fly down the road in only the way sports cars can.
A feeling of safety and comfort filled him just at the sight. His slow walked turned to a fast pace and then into an easy jog. The keys jangled louder, but he didn't silence them this time. Instead, he dug his hand in his pocket and fished them out.
Then, the rest was what would have happened any other school day. The alarm of the car was turned off with the click of a button, Samual slipped into the car, and he granted the car's wish of being used. His normal lap around the lot was even done!
"Its all the same. Nothing is different. Its all in the mind," he muttered aloud. And he almost accomplished his escape mission.
Almost.
As the spiffy yellow Ford Mustang reached the intersection, all his hopes were crashed when a van hit the driver's side of Samual's car. The door instantly bent in half at the force and was sent into his side, cutting deeply and easily like butter and a steak knife.
A gasp of surprise slipped through his lips when he looked down at the damage. Blood was already started to ruin the blue cotton fabric of his polo shirt. When he tried to move, more blood just seeped out and more of his insides were exposed to the unsanitary air.
"Fuck!" he growled and a spurt of spit flew from his mouth, landing on the wheel. Wiggling his body more, he swore he could hear the sound of his ribs cracking with each slight move. The man driving the van climbed out of the van, oblivious to the dying teenage that was in the car ahead of him, and ran down the street screaming. Screaming loudly.
Damn, he's gonna attract every infected around here! I have to get out!
Instead of try to push the door out of his ribs, he went the opposite way only to realize that he was pinned between the door and the poking gear shift. But, he had managed to rip layers of skin off his side. Was that bloodied pink thing poking out of the wound an intestine?
A taste of salt filled his mouth a second before vomit spewed from it and onto his jeans. His body was trembling in shock and in a sudden cold feeling all over.
Reality hit him.
He was dying.
It was inevitable.
So, he closed his brown eyes and relaxed his body. Death's blanket of mortality tucked him into sleep for the last time. Into a sleep in which he would never awake. Samual Tiftin was now as dead as his escape plan.
Too bad, so sad.