I feel the liquid run into my arm and it burns. Not a hot burn, but the kind of burn you get when you put your hands on a hot radiator after you've been out in the freezing cold. A tingling burn. I mentally clench my fists as the burning begins to spread, first through my hand, then to the tip of each finger before it loops back round and travels up my arm. It'll be okay. It'll be okay. It flows into my shoulder and up my neck. I would scream if I could but I'm still stuck. When it hits my heart it burns like fire in me and I want to die. Just so it will end. Soon every part of my body is burning inside like an electric current is pushing through my veins and I'm unable to focus on anything. The pain. It's all I can think about. The flames travel through every muscle and skin cell in my body, cremating me alive. Exhaustion spreads in my brain but I'm in so much agony I can't black out. Please. Just kill me. I want to go. Why won't they let me die? I can't take it any more.
"KILL ME." I finally growl. I freeze, terror washes over both Alex and Fiona's faces. I growled. They both begin to back away, hands up like I was dangerous. My vision is weird, like I was looking through mist. "Please help me." My new voice speaks for me and they begin to run. I can't run after them. Each movement cause a new kind of cramp to ripple in me. Soon their gone and I'm alone.
I sit for a while and try and clear my vision. Nothing works. I try and speak but all that comes out is non recognisable growls and grunts. I push back my hair and take a deep breath. I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and slowly lower myself down onto the tiles. I wobble a bit but the only feeling I get is pins and needles so I take a few staggering steps to the bathroom at the end of the ward.
I fumble around in the dark to try and find the switch. Eventually my numb fingers close round the cord and I prepare myself for the worst. Slowly I turn to look. My skin is a light bruised colour and my hair is thin and greasy. I peer in closer at my reflection and try and see through the haze my vision has become. Tiny flecks of red peek into my irises and a thin glaze covers both my pupils. I grip the porcelain of the sink and breathe in deep wheezing breaths in an attempt to slow whatever beating that exists in my chest. I'm not alive any more. But I'm not quite dead. I still hear my blood pounding in my ears yet there is no flush of red in my skin. I close my eyes. I'm not one of the zombies, well at least not yet but I can't speak. Unless you count growling speaking.
How can I be dead. But not alive? I say in my head since talking sounds unnatural and strange. I tap my finger nails on the white until I feel a stab in my nail bed. As I raise my right hand up I hear a clink in the basin. A blood trail is flowing down into the drain. I look at my hand. My index finger is now down a fingernail. I turn to the toilet as I think I might be sick but nothing happens. My stomach remains completely calm. Even the gnawing hunger pains are gone. I leave the room, not bothering with the light and speed over to the first aid kit on the table where Alex and Fiona were sitting. I pull out an antiseptic wipe and wince as I clean away the blood. The only thing that's left to wrap it up in is some scraps of bandage and a bit of tape.
It'll have to do.
When I finish treating my wound I get the backpack that they left behind. It's all packed. A small amount of food and medical supplies, a bottle of water, a knife, some rope, a pistol and a note. It's roughly written on a napkin of the hospital but I can just read it.
Dear Abbey.
If you are reading this, then let me say I'm deeply sorry. I was wrong. The jab doesn't kill the virus it just weakens it. It means you are now an infected with a conscience. Hopefully you'll be strong enough to survive long enough to meet us at the docks. A boat is coming and Fiona and I didn't want to take the chance. You can't pass on the disease and we've taken a sample of your blood to prove that if you meet us.
Move fast.
Alex.
How the hell am I supposed to get there? I have no idea where the docks are. I'm about to screw the note into a ball when I notice a small drawing on the back. A map. It's smudged slightly but it's better then nothing. I shove it into my pocket and put on the jacket that is hanging on the chair. I also take the two syringes of the bleach or whatever it is and put them in the bag. Maybe there's a chance my blood and them can cure it.
With the bag packed, the knife tucked back into the belt loops of the jeans and the pistol not too far out of reach. I'm ready.
"Here we go." I croak and begin to walk but something hits me like a wall and I collapse to the ground, a loud ringing in my ears. I fight the heavy feeling that clouds my mind and I try and get up but the floor shifts underneath me. What is going on? I begin to panic. I could be thrashing madly on the floor or I could be stock still. Then the burning returns only adding to the chaos in my head. I eventually manage to get enough control to prop up on one arm. A shadow comes out of the light, the all to familiar shape of a shotgun in their hand. I give up and flop back to the floor and close my eyes. I just hope it'll be quick. I screw up my eyes and wait for it. The blast and the white flash of pain and then the end. But nothing happens. I risk a glance. The figure is now close enough to see.
"I'm not going to hurt you Abbey." The figure is female and as she comes into view I can see her more clearly. The bleached blonde hair, the orange fake tan and her eyes, blue, perfect blue. I know exactly who this woman is. She is the woman who ruined all faith I ever had in anyone. She was the woman who shared my dad with my mum. She is the last person I ever wanted to see. I ready myself to attack. I could do it now. I could do it to her. My hands turn into claws and I feel a growl in my chest. Just a little bit closer and, "I know where Tim is." I freeze. "He's alive. I can take you to him. Just trust me."
Trust you, after everything you've done to our family. You make me sick.
I don't realise what I'm doing until I've taken her hand and I'm staggering out the doors with my arm propped up on her shoulder.