Survivor Tales - Chapter 1-3 (Patreon)

Here is the first three chapters of my ongoing zombie tale.

Hope you enjoy the read. Feedback is much appreciated.

Chapter 1 - Oliver 1

I let out a heavy sigh, impatient to get home. Going straight from nursing school to work (as a nurse), and then sitting outside a small apartment complex in our small town just south of Indianapolis was not how I wanted to spend the start of my weekend, being a ripe twenty year old like my buddy here.

“Where the fuck is she, Oliver?” Steve rumbled, looking at the tall building.

“I don't know, Steve,” I replied impatiently.

We were waiting for some girl Steve wanted to pick up. Steve had just won his tenth boxing match and was eager to blow off some steam. Sammie was some girl he had been on and off with for ages now, and now it seemed to be on. Why had I tagged along? For one, I was sober and I had a car. And yeah, that was pretty much it. While Steve was an active boxer, he both smoked and drank like his life depended on it. So me, being the dutiful friend and ever the charitable Samaritan, had offered to drive him after the match, or help pick up Samantha, as Steve lived across the street from me anyway. My parents were out, so I hoped to game like crazy without any conviction. Starfield had just come out and I was not about to not explore the final frontier for the next seventy-two hours.

“Well fuck it,” Steve mumbled, sipping his Bud.

“Or not,” I chuckled. Steve snorted, giving half a smirk.

Why Steve was obsessed with Samantha was a bit beyond me. Sure, she was all pretty and stuff. The two of us had known her for ages. But it seemed that she had no interest in keeping things cordeal with Steve. Steve was tall, muscular, and fairly handsome, almost looking like a blue-eyed Keanu Reeves, but yet he wanted the only girl who didn't want him.

“Meh, let's fuck off outta here then,” Steve muttered.

The apartment building looked to be fairly dark and abandoned, which was really weird as we could clearly hear some commotion up there somewhere, and some slouching folks who were entering the building. But no Sammie.

I looked up from my phone, having scanned the recent news, hearing Steve finally capitulate.

“Anything good?” Steve asked, nodding to NBC's front page on my screen.

“Some riots in Indianapolis. Richmond too,” I muttered, tossing my phone into the mid-console.

“What about?” Steve asked.

“What about what?” I asked, a bit too tired to fully hang.

“What they rioting for?” Steve asked.

“Who knows. It seemed pretty serious, though. They considered bringing in the national guard and the army too, even.”

“Should we check it out?” Steve asked eagerly, always down for a scrap.

“No,” I promptly said, turning on the engine.

That's when we heard two loud pops coming from the building and a long scream.

“The fuck was that?” I asked.

“That was fucking gunshots. Nine mill,” Steve said, reaching for the handle. His father owns a gun shop so he knew a thing or two. We heard two new pops.

“Don't. We don't wanna catch a stray,” I warned.

“You're not a nurse?” Steve teased.

I re-unlocked my cell phone and called 911. Five minutes we saw Bellamy, a former classmate of ours, roll up. He worked as a deputy. Tall and athletic, but missed out on a scholarship, so here he was, working under his father. With him came Barb, his partner, a shorter pudgy woman in her late 30s.

“What seems to be the officer, problem?” Bellamy muttered as he leaned into my window. “Is that an open container?” he warned, but in jest.

“We heard shooting,” Steve said, toasting his beer can.

“Yeah, shit's been crazy. Upstate and down here too. Wait out here, we're waiting for backup,” Bellamy muttered. “You boxed last night, how'd it go?”

We sat there talking for a little bit until another set of police cars came, and a bike, then a flock went into the building. We didn't really pay attention, even as the shooting was not exactly something we were used to around these parts. Bellamy seemed to make it his mission to keep us busy though, perhaps as a way of keeping control of the two-man crowd.

“Ey, wanna let them check out if Sammie is up there?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, no prob. You still not giving her up, huh?” Bellamy replied before stepping away and muttering some stuff into his radio. The other end replied and Bellamy returned. “Nah, she ain't here. But ya'll best get goin'. Keep indoors.”

“Ya got it,” Steve said, toasting once more before I drove us back home.

I woke up with a jolt. Squinting around me I realized I had fallen asleep on the couch. Looking past the living room I saw the clock on the microwave. Five in the morning. What the fuck? Why was I awake? Then I heard it. Someone was banging on the door. At this hour? Fuck that. I rolled over and tried to ignore whoever it was. But they wouldn't budge. I hoisted myself out of my slumber and walked to the downstairs bathroom. I saw myself in the mirror. Brown-haired, blue eyes, both features inherited from my mother. Not the tallest guy, probably as average and unassuming as they come. My most distinct features were probably my eyes, honestly, as the rest of me were fairly average and mediocre. I turned the faucet and gulped a mouthful of water.

When I came back to the living room, I could still hear the banging. Jesus Christ. I decided to take my headphones off, and that's when I heard the person calling my name.

“Ollie!” a woman's voice called. It sounded familiar enough, but I couldn't draw an immediate connection.

I walked over and swung the door open. There stood a brunette, just like me, but with a deeper shade of blue in her eyes and cute freckles across her nose. About my own height, perhaps an inch taller. A red party dress that reached to her knees and a black leather jacket, she wasn't exactly dressed for anything but a party. It was my aunt Lauren, who I hadn't seen in ages.

She was living in the next town over but had never really had a lot to do with us as my mother wasn't on good terms with her. My mother was all hearts and bubbles, while Lauren had been the family's black sheep for the first twenty years of her life. However, she had calmed down with age, being a mature lady at… thirty-three? Thirty-four?

“What the fu– Aunt Lauren? What are you doing here?” I asked, perplexed. “Do you know how damn late it is?”

“Your mother called me and asked me to head over and fetch you immediately, and get you to the town center,” Lauren said. “I was in town anyways, so here I am.”

“My mother called you?” I asked, a bit unsure.

“I don't know any details or whatever. All I know is, Amy called me in the middle of the night while I was at a party, something she never does, and wanted me to take you to the town center. Please, can we move on? There has been a lot of crazy shit going on the last twenty-four hours,” Lauren explained. “And for goodness, can you find some pants?”

I looked down and saw I stood in nothing but my boxers with my piece bulging. I blushed immediately, standing like this in front of my mom's younger sister. I prayed she hadn't seen anything significant.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “Come on in. I'll find some… pants.”

Lauren stepped inside and hurriedly closed the door. I ran upstairs to find some decent joggers, a T-shirt, and perhaps even a sweater. It was a warm summer, but who knows, right? While I threw my sweater on I peered outside. I didn't really see any reason to be on such an alert as Lauren seemed to be. It was quiet for the most part. Some guys were running down the street hollering, but that was it.

“You ready?”

I spun around and saw Lauren standing at the door, leaning against the frame with her dress hanging loosely around her long firm legs clad in dark nylon stockings.

“Woah, heard of knocking?” I asked flustered. I wasn't sure if I was startled or if I had caught myself checking my own aunt out. Lauren just shook her head.

“We need to get going. Amy sounded worried. She wanted me to look after you until we were down there,” she explained.

“What's going on?” I asked.

“I don't know,” Lauren answered, already on her way down again. I followed her.

“You seem in such a hurry, you must know something?” I pestered.

“I don't. Just that there's something going on and that the town officials are gathering people down at the college campus,” Lauren explained. Or didn't explain. That wasn't much to go on. Looking outside once more I saw that it was utterly quiet, and the quietness was accentuated even more as we stepped outside into the early morning hours.

Lauren looked up and down the street with an anxious look. As much as she said she didn't know, she sure seemed to know something. It was starting to become annoying.

“Can you at least tell me why you're so worried?” I said.

“I mean… haven't you seen the news?” Lauren said over her shoulder, marching down to where I presumed her car was. Though I could smell the wine on her as I caught up to her.

I fell quiet. Yes, of course. The riots I had read up on before passing out. Well, now it suddenly started to feel like more than a riot. There wasn't much to go on from the news, but social media was buzzing with videos and pictures. I was quite skittish around gore, but I had read the responses, and it sounded like some disease or parasite had spread or something. If that was the cause or the reason for a riot, or if there was any correlation at all, I wasn't sure.

“Like that makes things so clear and reassuring,” I muttered sarcastically.

“Yeah, well, hop in,” Lauren said, opening the passenger door to her car.

“You drive this?” I asked in a mix of surprise and awe, looking at what I guessed was a 97 Corvette, all red to match her dress.

“Hop in,” Lauren repeated impatiently.

I sat down in the plush seat, feeling the engine come alive, a rumble rolling outwards in all directions. The radio roared as it came to life, an energetic tune about burning everything in your path. I looked over at my aunt as she jumped in, her dress slightly caught on the steering wheel and inadvertently giving me a glance at her stockings. She immediately darted her hand to catch it, and as immediately as she did that I looked away. I had this thing for stockings so I couldn't help but look. It certainly provided motivation to not glare that it was my fucking aunt, though.

But we did not get far. A guy was standing in the street about two hundred yards down the road and right in the way of where we were going. Lauren slammed the break to not the guy, but the person seemed undeterred. He looked a bit disheveled, like something was wrong with his knees or something.

“Get off the road, idiot,” Lauren mumbled. She revved the engine, honked, everything, but the dude didn't move. He just leaned over the hood, seemingly having a hard time getting up on his feet again.

“Just let me get out and help him away, or drag him outta here,” I offered. I might not have Steve's stature or ten boxing trophies, but the man looked skidded and could need the support.

“Yeah, be my guest,” Lauren shrugged.

I got out of the car. The man looked like he was trying to climb up on the Corvette, seemingly his knees were too fucked up to get all the way up. As soon as I stepped out, however, he snapped his foggy glare towards me.

“Hey, please get out of the way. We need to get going,” I said, not too sure about this guy. I didn't even dare to get fully out of the car despite my bravado earlier.

As the words rolled off my lips, however, he reacted, and immediately I realized this was a bad situation. The man snarled as he shambled forward. He seemed incohesive and unbalanced, but some part of me knew I did not want him to get close to me. I jumped back into the car, yelling “Go!”

Lauren hit the gas with a thud and accelerated. The stranger didn't even move. We thought he'd see reason and jump out of the way, but nope. Lauren ran right at him, and the guy crashed onto the hood and slammed against the front view window, creating a series of cracks in the glass making it more or less impossible to look anywhere. The man rolled off to my side of the vehicle as Lauren hit the brakes, and rolled onto the asphalt. She just sat there looking at me, her eyes wide with shock and panic.

“Did I– Did I kill him?” she asked, horrified. “I-I thought he'd get out of the way!”

“I- I don't know,” I stuttered, equally horrified, barely peeking out on the guy writhing on the ground. He wasn’t dead yet it seemed.

For the second time that night, Lauren startled me as she screamed out due to a loud bang on her window. But as I looked over I saw that it was none other than Steve.

“Oh, it's my friend, Steve,” I said, feeling somewhat calmer.

Steve then walked over to my side, grabbed the crazy guy on the ground by his collar and the waistband of his pants, lifted him up off the ground, and dumped him head-first into the nearest trash can.

“Fuck, I can't see anything,” Lauren said, gesturing towards the bashed window. She must've hit the guy pretty hard, even at such a short distance.

“Y'all better get out,” Steve called.

“Quick, in the glove compartment,” Lauren said, not answering Steve's call. Inside I found a snubnoze revolver of some sort.

“You're packing?” I asked in shock, not being a huge fan of firearms.

“I'm a single woman in my early thirties, what do you think?” Lauren said annoyedly, leaning over me to grab the gun, the silky material of her dress grazing against my hands. I quickly jerked them out of her way.

I got out, almost tripping over my own two legs while doing so. I looked at Steve, expecting an explanation for the turn of events, but Steve's eyes darted elsewhere, looking up and down the street.

“I don't know what the fuck is going on, but standing around out here isn't a good idea. Have you been on Twitter?” Steve asked. “It's turning into fucking liveleaks.com over there.”

“How did you find us?” I asked.

“I drove right behind you,” Steve said, pointing to his heavy motorcycle. He was still way too intoxicated to drive, so the bike was on its side. Between the Corvette and the chopper, we were making a profuse amount of noise, so he had to almost yell.

Steve then shoved me out of the way and cracked some guy right in the face. I hadn't heard him over all the engine noise, but some snarling bastard had come up behind me without me even noticing. Dark, sticky blood splattered onto my white t-shirt as the guy's head more or less exploded from Steve’s giant fists. Not far behind was yet another lunatic coming at us from the street. And another. And another.

Turning to look past Lauren, I saw a few coming lumbering out from the alley next to us. Steve sensed danger, being the fighter of us, and grabbed both Lauren and me by our wrists and hurried us further down the street. I was still too shell-shocked to even register the emergent threat.

“We need to get the fuck outta here,” he muttered.

“I can walk by myself!” Lauren said, yanking her hand free.

“Sorry,” Steve said, releasing the both of us.

While we were being outnumbered from two sides, they were so slow we had no problem marching away from them. Steve led us down to the head of the street, but as we rounded the corner we were met with more. They looked rugged and worn. As if they had been battle-worn drug addicts for ages, with glassy eyes and guttural noises gurgling from their throats. Steve punched two with his bare fists, shattering them as if their bone had become utterly brittle. Or it was just the fact that Steve was a two-hundred-and-thirty-pound guy who knew how to throw a punch. But the two were replaced soon enough, and we once again had to redirect. We jogged away from the slower flock and lost them. Still, staying on the street seemed a bit risky as there were still miles between us and the city center.

“In there,” I said, pointing to a two-story building.

Once inside the three of us crouched down to make as little noise as possible, and hopefully not be seen by those crazies, hurrying upstairs. We hoped that we could make ourselves disappear by hiding. We soon found a room facing the street. I guess the silent agreement was that we could at least look outside if need be. But for now, keeping out of sight was the main course of action.

“What the fuck was that?” Lauren muttered.

“There's some kinda infection out there making people crazy,” Steve muttered back, keeping his voice low as he rubbed his scratched-up knuckles.

“What? How?” I whispered.

“You don't pay attention, do ya?” Steve chuckled lowly. “You know how the government has isolated specific areas all across the country and shit? I even heard there was one right between Richmond and Indianapolis.”

“That's just conspiracy theories. There's no fucking Illuminati,” I muttered. “The US government being run by the New World order and FEMA camps? Come on, get the fuck outta here. And those rumors about an infection were months ago.”

“No, not that shit,” Steve retorted. “There are threads talking about how there have been these quarantined, highly secure, off-limit areas around. Like huge areas closed off. Zach, you know the guy who hates lesbians, he has a cousin that works in the CDC, and Zach says that there is this disease or some shit. And that it got out, making people crazy and cannibal-like. It was all over social media, Ollie.”

“Sounds like horse shit,” I muttered. “Zach's an asshole anyway.”

“Would you two shut up?” Lauren whispered, hoisting herself up and walking over to the door, peeking out into the hallway. We had entered some small office it seemed. Store downstairs, offices upstairs, or something. We had shut the light so we only saw the contours of the room. Normally a shadowy office in the dark could’ve been scary, but the last thirty minutes kinda put a damping effect on that.

I noticed Steve eyed Lauren as she stood by the door, somewhat out of earshot I guess, as Steve leaned in.

“Who is she?” he asked. Steve had met Lauren before, but it was so long ago.

“My aunt,” I explained. Steve's eyes went wide as he trailed her from head to toe.

Shoulder-length brown hair, blue eyes. I guess one could say she had ample cleavage and firm legs and all that, but I was her nephew and had already caught myself a few times. I chalked it up to not seeing her so often. But Steve's glare made it obvious that Lauren was indeed a very attractive mature woman.

“How's she so hot?” he whispered.

“Shut it,” I muttered.

“Those legs, dawg,” Steve continued. “I'd lick those calves–”

“Will you boys keep quiet?!” Lauren said a bit louder.

Steve fell quiet, and so did I. Hours seemed to slowly roll by as we lingered around in the small office. Lauren kept looking out the door, while Steve would sometimes peer outside. I guess I was too scared. I never thought I was a coward, but faced with everything right now I felt helpless. Meteor strikes? Cannibalism? What has the world come to? Though, I was certain the military would roll through or something. They had talked about the National Guard, so I had to think the US government did what they could to get a hold of the situation, whatever it may be. Hopefully, all we had to do was sit here and wait for the rescue, and keep out of trouble.

I looked over at Steve. He was slumped against the wall, looking tired and weary. He was still scratching his knuckles. Though, the scratches looked to have become wounds, slightly reddened and swollen.

“Don't scratch too much, you're making yourself bleed all over,” I called to him.

“It just itches like a bastard,” he muttered, but his voice seemed a bit labored.

He looked to be sweating too, but not from the heat.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Just a bit light-headed,” Steve groaned.

“Don't tell me you're on the sauce or some shit,” I joked.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you too, Ollie,” Steve chuckled, though with the faintest grunt of agony. “Yeah, just alcohol withdrawals,” Steve joked, his chuckle turning into a pained grunt.

“But seriously, that doesn't look too good,” I said, nodding to his knuckles where dark blood trickled down.

“Really, Oliver. It's not that bad,” he mumbled, leaning his head back against the wall. He was almost wheezing, coughing a little bit. Whatever was up with him, it seemed to get worse as we spoke.

“What's the matter?” Lauren muttered. “You guys can't seem to shut up, so what's going on?”

Steve waved dismissively, shaking his head. Lauren shrugged and turned back around to face the doorway again. As she did I thought I heard a gasp and turned back towards Steve. His eyes were glazed over as a fever seemed to fester in him, a hoarse gasp escaping his throat. I took his wrist to check his knuckles. Steve tried to pull his hand back, but big and strong as he was, he didn't have the strength now.

But as my fingers wrapped around his wrist, I felt something wet. I turned his hand and saw the clear bottom and top teeth mark right there where his pulse should've been.

“What the fuck?” I muttered, inspecting the bite marks.

I'd be more livid, but Steve didn't seem present at the moment. He probably hadn't said anything yet, as he thought it was nothing, that we would soon head out and reach Main Street where the assembly was. But a human bite is the filthiest thing, so no wonder he seemed to have an onset infection. However, it seemed to work much faster than most other infections. I released his hand and stood up, walking over to my aunt instead. Lauren looked at me with a worried look.

“Everything alright out there?” I asked, nodding at the door. Lauren nodded with concern plainly written on her face.

“What's up with your friend?” Lauren asked kindly, reaching a gentle hand to my shoulder.

“I think he needs to go to the hospital. ASAP,” I mumbled. “Looks to be some sort of infection. I work as a nurse, so I know one when I see one. The redness and the swollenness from around his wounds are tell-tale signs.”

“You sure?” Lauren asked. “There are still a lot of people down there.” She glanced towards the window, peering through the blinds, out of sight.

“We can sneak out the back or something, he just needs help,” I pleaded.

“Shouldn't we just wait here? I mean, there's a back door and a stairwell, but those fire escapes make a lot of noise. And what if we have to carry him between us? We'd move way slower, if at all. He's fucking huge,” Lauren muttered, sounding a bit stressed by the notion of having to move out in the open like that. It was a valid concern.

“Are we even sure this place is safe?” I mumbled.

“Probably not,” Lauren sighed, almost like a moan.

Suddenly a loud clatter broke the tension and the mood of the room shifted to dread. But it didn't come from the constant guttural noises outside on the street, nor outside the door. It came from within. We turned and saw that Steve was back on his feet over by the window, seemingly unsteady on his legs.

“There you go, he can walk,” I said, turning to Lauren. But she was fixated on Steve with anticipated fear instead of relief. "What?"

“His eyes are glassy like those others,” Lauren whispered, taking a step back and nudging my arm for me to follow.

“Pff, nonsense,” I replied, wrenching my hand back and turning to Steve. “Right, Steve. Uh, are you feeling alright?”

Steve did not reply. He stumbled toward me, closing the few feet between us.

“Holy shit, man, you don't look so good,” I almost whined, pressing my hands into Steve's chest, to hold him at bay. He swung out, and being much longer than me, he easily whipped me across the face so I stumbled and landed on my back, Steve crashing onto me.

“What the fuck dude!” I roared, trying to shove him off me. As a pretty strong guy myself, I thought I could handle myself fairly decently, but I was suddenly an ant wrestling an elephant. And indeed did I see that his eyes were glassy, and not far behind was that noticeable snarl we had heard all night.

Steve gritted his teeth as if to bite me, leaning closer and closer. It was only a matter of time I would find out if that would be my fate, as Steve was utterly unresponsive to any of my protests.

I struggled under the weight of the heavyweight, struggling to prevent his face from reaching my face. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a pair of black heels approach, Lauren hurrying to help. But as Steve was so close I shoved at his chest and turned my face so I wouldn't have to stare at his now-cold eyes. Two loud bangs cracked through the room and the weight on top of me went limp, and my left shoulder immediately got wet and sticky. Warmth spread down my torso and a vile stench shot through my nose making me gag.

I finally managed to shove Steve off of me, keeled over a desk and threw up all over a stack of papers and a few binders, as well some on my shirt and pants. The familiar smell of iron was unmistakable, but never had I smelled it this fresh and… rotten. It had always been coagulated and dried onto skin, or body tissue, or inside machines, not pouring all over my chest.

When I stood back upright I saw Lauren still pointing the revolver, which was now smoking. Steve lay splayed out on his back with most of his forehead missing. It was just then I fully realized what had happened.

“You shot Steve!” I said out loud.

“I - I –” Lauren stuttered. “He-he was trying to-to-to–”

I couldn't fucking believe my eyes as I stared at Steve's dead body. My best friend since kindergarten. Shot dead in his back in some lonely office by none other than my own aunt, whom I hadn't seen in ages. She stepped towards me, not saying a word, but I took a step back. Lauren looked miserable as she lowered her gun, and when I recoiled I might as well have slapped her with the look on her face.

“I'm s-sorry,” Lauren whimpered, dropping the gun to the floor.

I then heard a crash downstairs. Fuck, they were inside. The gun no doubt made a lot of noise, alerting and thus attracting the crazy fucks in the street. Lauren had shot Steve, and now the, if we could trust the internet-rumors, cannibalistic infected were on their way up the main steps. I had half a mind to just leave this bitch here, but she was family so I took her wrist in my hand and dragged her out into the hallway, glancing at my dead friend one final time before closing the door.

I found something heavy to block up the door so we could retrieve Steve later for some... I don't know... maybe we'd bury him? I had no idea the state of things, surely some medical personnel wanted to look at whatever had happened to him. Such a rapid infection? Was that what had happened elsewhere?

“Come on,” I said reluctantly and dragged her with me.

Lauren and I snuck down the hallway, found the fire escape and quietly snuck down steps that led toward the alley behind the store. The stairs ended up outside what seemed to be an abandoned laundromat. Rows and rows of machines lined the walls buzzing along. Noise.

The night was thick and humid as we crept out into the alley. The howling of infected people was heard not that far away. It felt like the whole town had come under siege by crazy, flesh-eating, lunatics. The quicker we got to the town center the better. Whoever and whatever was there was arranged by the military by the sound of it, so it was probably the safest place. Unfortunately, the street we ran out on now directed us either further away or toward the flock we had just escaped from. Fighting or making a wide rotation? The choice was easy.

The quicker we got there, the quicker I could get rid of Aunt Lauren. I could barely stand looking at her after what she did. Maybe Steve wasn't completely lucid and sick, but I couldn't just get over the fact that she pulled that trigger and decided Steve's fate without a blink of her eye, not even taking a moment to wonder what Steve would think about her decision. He was sick, yet she decided to kill him. A small rational part of me knew she did it to protect me, but I shoved that aside as we didn't have time to neither mourn nor reflect on how or why. I'd have time for that once we got where we were going.

Chapter 2 - Oliver 2

While I had been the one to drag Lauren, she soon took the lead again. Whenever I saw one of those infected bastards all I could think about was how Steve had tried to kill me, thus getting himself shot by Lauren. The events replayed in my mind over and over again as I tried to think how we could've made things different. Maybe it was that Lauren and I were both kind of dazed and stunned at what had just occurred that made us stay quiet for so long as we sneaked toward the assembly point they had been talking about on social media. It wasn't until one of those fuckers was upon us, charging at me with his teeth bared that I snapped to attention.

But before I could even do anything, Lauren had shot him point blank in the eye. Once again killing a person right in front of me. Lauren didn't look half as devastated as when she shot Steve, instead her brows furrowed in annoyance as the guy slumped over in front of us, spraying warm wet blood gushed out onto the asphalt.

“Fuck, why did you do that?” I exclaimed. Lauren looked at me in a mix of shock and sorrow, but before she could say anything I continued, “The noise!”

We looked down both ends of the street. We didn't see them, but the loud gnarls and snarls made it evident we had caught the crazie's attention.

“God damn it, Lauren!” I exclaimed as I soon saw the shadowy silhouetted monsters start to round the furthest corner.

“Pst! Pst!”

I turned and looked at Lauren, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“I didn't say anything. Hey, there,” she said, pointing.

Out from one of the doors at the medical department of the university stuck a head out. He looked to be military as he had a helmet on and all the gear, his M4 rifle slung across his back. We jogged over immediately. He was a blue-eyed ginger, easy to pick out of a crowd. But now he stood in the doorway looking a bit... apologetic?

“Get in,” he said.

“Wha–” I started, but the soldier hushed us.

“Let's get further in,” he whispered. “They like noise.”

He led us into the large lobby and down to a corridor leading further into the building, presumably to avoid making a lot of noise to attract the ruckus outside. Once we were deemed to be out of earshot, the questions came pouring.

“You the military?”

“What is going on?”

“Where's the rest?”

The soldier held out his hands as he walked backward down the corridor.

“Okay! I'll answer what I can. Which isn't much, honestly,” he said, letting us catch up on either side of him. “I am a soldier with the US Army, yes. Corporal Abe Johnson. I don't know what's going on, except there has been an outbreak, that people are infected, and that the army is getting control of. The rest is probably downtown.”

“The rest?” Lauren asked, sounding a bit unsure.

“Yeah.”

“Why aren't you there with them? Or they here?”

“Erh... I was late for the assembly point... let's not focus on that, the other's are right through here,” Abe said.

“Your troop?” I asked hopefully.

“Erh,” Abe said, pushing the door open.

It was not Abe's troop. Splayed on a lounge sofa was a blonde, brown-eyed woman looking to be in her early thirties, her left foot on the floor while her other up on the sofa. She was panting and groaning profusely while her calf was bleeding profusely from what I had to guess was a bite mark. Kneeling before the bleeding woman was a kid about my own age, perhaps a bit younger. Scrawny, sorta, nerdy looking with glasses. His hand held a towel, shakingly trying to apply pressure onto her wound.

“Come on, I'm bleeding here!” the woman wailed, with a slight foreign accent. European? Hard to tell.

“B-b-but I-I-I–” The kid stuttered, seemingly too shy to touch a woman's leg.

“I'm the one in pain here! Come on!” the woman complained, tilting her head back, none of them registering Lauren and me.

I immediately hurried over and yanked the towel out of the kid's hand and applied the faintest pressure. The woman hissed as the cloth touched her wound.

“What's the situation?” I asked, when she looked at me with slight reluctance, mixed with the obvious pain, I quickly added, “I'm a nurse.”

“Finally! I'm cutting it off, but these guys are too squeamish! Like they've never seen blood before or a woman's leg?” she said through gritted teeth. “God damn bunch of pussies.”

“Woah, not that kind of nurse,” I said, a bit hesitant. I lifted the cloth a bit to see the marks. “I'm only part-time. I fetch stuff.”

“Great. Just great. Well, I'm a doctor, so–”

“Why do you want to cut it off?” Lauren asked in disbelief.

“Abe here,” she answered, "was supposed to help me through a door, but closed it a bit too late and one got through. He was also late killing the thing so the fucker got to bite me. He's over there.”

She threw her head towards a corner, where one of the infected lay sprawled with several gunshots littered across his body. I shot a look at Abe, who was mostly focusing on the bleeding wound more than his own scolding.

“And once they bite, I think we get infected. So off with the leg. Not taking chances. And I'm not trusting Abe to anything, and Peter here is too afraid to touch a lady's bloodied leg,” the doctor explained.

“The same happened to my fr–” I started, but the doctor held up a hand.

“I sent him out for morphine. We have a saw and other stuff, I just need.... something. Perhaps some alcohol if nothing else," the doctor explained. I suspected she sensed her own urgency in the matter, thus not wanting to hear all about my story. "But seeing we have such capable men around, I'm sending you. I don't know you, but you're a nurse. Morphine or something with pain relievers. This is gonna hurt like a bitch so anything. Also IVs and all that stuff. Leave your girlfriend here, but take the soldier.”

“It's my aunt,” I said.

“Go!”

I turned and hurried out of the room, the soldier named Abe following after me.

“Here.” Abe handed me a Glock. I'm no gun expert, but I saw them all the time in video games. I switched the safety off and on and Abe gave a node. “You seen 'em bite?" he asked.

“No?” I hadn't really. Steve had come close though.

“It's not fun. How they rip the skin? The crunching sound as they go right through bone? I didn't even know human teeth could do that,” Abe said, making me slightly nauseous. He nodded towards the stairs next to the door he had emerged and found us from.

“No, it's not there,” I said. “I go to school here. We need to find the lab where the pharmacists hang.”

As we were passing corridors too close to the street the two of us decided to keep quiet. We could clearly hear the infected outside lumbering around, and the last thing we wanted was to draw their attention.

The building we were in was shaped almost like a triangle, where new wings sort of had been added over time. But it had been a while since they added anything, so I knew the layout fairly well. But time was of the essence if we were to fight the infection. So we hurried down the corridor and then into a staircase, up and into where I knew they had some of the drugs.

“Look for medical-grade alcohol and wipes. Also, some local anesthetic drugs. Syringes. They'll likely be named something with 'caine' at the end. I'll find the morphine,” I explained, and we quickly spread out among the rows of shelves.

I quickly found some orals, but only two bottles of Oramorph and a bunch of capsules with Ketamine, and some in bottles too. The rest of the morphine seemed to have cleaned out. Probably the military took every resource they could get, especially if there was a medical emergency. But that didn't help us. I also snapped a box of blood thinners, remembering something about blood clots from school, as well as some packed syringes.

“No locals,” Abe called from the other end of the room. “Wait, there is some ethanol stuff back here. Oh shit!”

I then heard two shots from his M4 and a slump. Fuck. That made a lot of noise. And this room was close to the hallway.

“We need to go fast,” I yelled, not wanting to get stuck on the second floor. Abe was still back there though. Fuck, had he been bitten?

I hurried back to where he was, a side room separate from the anesthesia where they kept all kinds of stuff to clean wounds. Abe was luckily sifting through the cabinets, and not bitten, yanking both wipes and bottles. Next to him were two former lab workers. I didn't want to check if I knew them, but it was obvious from the bite marks and tattered state of their attire that they had been infected some time ago. Probably locked in here by whoever stole all the morphine. I quickly grabbed a bunch of bandages and antibiotics too. Oh, and some IVs. I should've brought a backpack because we could use all we could get.

“Okay, let's go,” I said, my mind trailing back to the infected who had no doubt heard the shots. I thought I faintly could hear them downstairs moving towards the staircase. I just hoped they didn't find Peter, Lauren, and the doctor. Moving out into the hallway we could even hear the infected on the stairs where we came up. There were no doubt loads of them upstairs.

That's when I had an idea.

“We need to draw them up here,” I said. Abe looked at me like I had slapped him across the face with a crowbar.

“No?” he replied.

“Think about it. We can't get all of them, but it's better to have them up here rather than lounging in the lobby and hallways? We lure them up where we came, then run down another set of stairs,” I said. “We close all the staircases, then a bunch of them are up here.”

“Why?” Abe asked.

“We need them away from our group downstairs,” I said, ignoring that I called them 'our group' already as if we were a bunch of comrades. For a soldier, he no doubt had some tight knit group out there waiting for him, but all the same.

“Sounds like a terrible idea,” Abe said.

“We're doing it,” I said, shoving past him towards the stairway. It was the kind that a janitor would use, not meant for students, so it was all metal and stuff, well-fitted for a lot of noise.

“Okay, the main stairs across that hallway and to the left. Can't miss it. Make sure it's clear,” I said. It felt odd telling a soldier what to do, but he just nodded and headed over to the other end and disappeared out into the stairs.

He then stuck his head back and held a thumbs up. I turned to the stairwell behind me. Here we go.

“HEY!” I yelled down the stairs. “Bastards! Come up here and hang!”

I heard gurgling and gasps from beneath and soon the slumbering rapid steps of a horde of infected starting to stumble their way upwards towards me.

“Up here, you motherfuckers!” I yelled, banging the metal door with the handle of my handgun.

The roars came closer and once I saw the scalp of the first one I turned and bolted down the hallway. Looking over my shoulder I saw four of them, more in tow, enter the other end.

“Oh god,” I muttered, feeling like I was staring death in the face.

“Come on,” Abe yelled.

I hurried past the door and shut it and the two of us hurriedly put all the stuff we could find in the immediate area in front of the door to block it. I hurried over to one of the offices and found one of those old ass file cabinets and added it to the mix. But we really should have something to pry the door with too.

“Here,” an unfamiliar voice said behind me.

I turned and saw what I immediately thought was Steve. Tall, muscular, and with dark hair. But as I blinked I saw this guy was nothing like my deceased friend. The similarities ended there. This guy was rough looking, leathery like, and in his forties. He had to be in his forties, and he sported a thick bushy 70s mustache and sunglasses, his hair in a ponytail. In his gigantic hand he held a crowbar, in his other held a rather large machete.

“Where'd you come from?” Abe groaned, sweating profusely as he tossed a chair on top of the pile we had made.

The humongous guy didn't say anything, he instead grabbed the desk I had grabbed onto and helped me hoisting it on top of the other stuff.

“Raul,” the man said in a deep voice.

“Oliver. This is Abe,” I said, nodding at the ginger. “Thanks, but we need to get going. A lady needs medical attention ASAP.”

“Wait, I have a girl over here,” Raul said, nodding further down the hall. “She sprained her arm and has scratches, but she won't let me check her.”

“Grab her and we can see what we can do,” I replied. “We just need to close the other stairway so these assholes stay up here.”

“Me and Abe do that, you can take the girl to wherever you're holding up,” Raul said, heading towards a room further down. Raul opened the door and waved for the girl to come out.

It was a smaller girl, a few inches shorter than me. She had dark hair, and almond-shaped olive-green eyes peered over at me with a fright, as her full lips frowned and her prominent cheekbones squinted at the stench that I somehow had already grown accustomed to. She looked somewhat familiar. Was she a medical student too? I swore I had seen her before. She was my age for sure, I figured.

“Raul here told me you have some cuts? Do you want me to take a look?” I asked, worried she'd also have bite marks. Potentially at a place where we couldn't amputate. But the girl was hesitant. “We have a female doctor, if that helps.” The girl nodded.

A few minutes later we barged into the larger office space where Lauren, Peter and the doctor hunkered down. They had repositioned the injured doctor's sofa further away from the door and moved desks and chairs almost as a barricade to hide behind. Perhaps they'd be out of sight, but it wouldn't stop much from coming towards them.

“Where the fuck were you?” Lauren said angrily, hurrying over to me. “What the fuck was all that noise?”

“Sorry, erh, we met some of the infected and Abe shot them. We lured them upstairs and now a lot of them are trapped up there,” I explained, quite satisfied with my plan earlier.

“With the rest of the medicine? What if we need more?” Lauren said, quite clearly annoyed.

“Fuck…” I muttered.

“You could say that!” Lauren said. “And what if it didn't work? What if they came here?! You risked all of us!”

“Hey, we can't all think clearly in the heat of the moment?” I retorted, glaring at Lauren. “Hm? How you just shot–”

“Fuck off! I did that to protect you Ollie! Don't you think I know what I did?” Lauren said quite loudly. I quickly regretted taking it that far. Fuck. She was right. I reached out, but she swatted me away. “No. I can't deal with this shit right now. I did what I had to.”

Lauren marched over to a window, fuming. I had hurt her. Badly. I hadn't been thinking. I carried a grudge for her killing Steve, but her blowing up sort of snapped me back to reality. What an idiot I had been…

“Hey!” the doctor exclaimed. “Forgetting something?”

“Right. Erh, we have a girl… could we look at her before we operate on you? I mean, just for bite marks,” I asked, once again snapping back to reality. The doctor rolled her eyes and waved the girl over, ignoring the fact we had dragged a new member in. The doc was all business when it came to her work, it seemed.

“What's your name?” she asked the girl.

“Ana,” the girl replied.

“I'm Doctor Roxanne Mallow, but call me Roxy. I'm going to roll up your sweater to look at your tummy while,” the doctor turned to the rest of us, “while the rest looks away.”

Me and Peter quickly looked away and a lingering moment rolled by.

“You're fine. Now, Oliver, that's your name right?” Doctor Mallow said, waving the girl urgently away and me towards her. She no doubt wanted to get the operation away as soon as possible.

“Sure thing, Roxy,” I said, finally having a name to her face.

“Dr. Mallow, nurse. Anyway, here's what's going to happen. Squeamish around blood? Tough stuff,” Mallow explained. “First give me whatever you got. In fact, what did you get?”

“Ketamine liquid and capsules, Oramorph tablets, blood thinners,” I listed, laying our haul on the small coffee table next to Mallow's sofa.

“Fuck. Morphine would be better, but if it's Ketamine it's Ketamine. I'll do the dosage, just to be sure,” Mallow said. “I'll break it down in four steps. We're cutting just below the knee, right here. Here, let me take your belt and I'll ligate the correct place. Next is the cutting. Do not do anything until I'm under. And if while I'm under we can't make it, please do not let me become infected.”

Dr. Mallow looked at me now, and I saw the significance of what she said. I had no idea if I was able to do something like that. Kill her? Lauren had shot Steve, and now the doctor wanted me to do her too? What had the world come to so rapidly where such things had become an option?

“Promise me, Oliver,” Mallow reiterated. I nodded, but unsure. “I'm putting my life in your hands. I need to know that I wake up human or not at all.”

“I- I… I'll do it.”

“If not, I will,” Lauren said with conviction, having made her way over to me. “No point in ruining two souls, eh, Ollie?” I heard the venom in her voice. I felt like the biggest piece of shit. Lauren, please forgive me one day.

“Thanks,” I muttered.

“I'm not doing it for you,” Lauren said coldly.

“Good,” Mallow said. “Then you cut it off. There is a bonesaw and a knife here somewhere, ask Peter. He won't do anything cutting, as he's too afraid, nor do I want him to. That being said, we need to start soon. I have no idea how fast the infection spreads, and I have no intention of finding out for myself.”

Mallow grabbed a syringe and one of the Ketamine bottles, while instructing me further.

“After, you need to polish the wound. That means sowing, cutting excess. You know the deal. Then bandage,” she finalized, handing me the syringe and rolling up her sleeve, then drawing a cutting line under her knee with a sharpie.

“You've already used my belt,” I said, as I took her arm. She was warm, very warm. I couldn't tell if it was her natural being or if it was the infection.

“Use a shoelace,” Mallow replied, her eyes widening in impatience. I set the needle to her skin, pressed through, and as I penetrated the vein I administered her the drug. “There you go. That's the stuff,” she groaned as the anesthesia worked its magic. “Puff the magic dragon,” Mallow giggled before passing out within a few moments.

The room fell quiet. Way too quiet. Except for the snarls from way outside. Somewhere along the way had Raul come back, Abe probably out keeping watch or something. Peter came over with an unsure expression on his face, saw and knife in hand. This was it. No meddling around. I had to saw the leg off of a pretty lady I had just met, who had entrusted me with her life. In front of an audience, as if it couldn't get any worse.

I took the saw and looked at it, then at Dr. Mallow's knee. Her skirt had been rolled up mid-thigh for access, and now sat with her delicate foot in front of me on the sofa and me on my knees on the floor next to it with saw in hand. She seemed so peaceful in her drug-induced slumber which was in stark contrast to what I would do, the warm, soft skin that grazed my finger where she wanted me to cut. Ruin her fine anatomy. But it had to be done.

I hunkered down so I was more at eye level with the task I had been dealt. My mission.

I took the saw and laid it onto the line she had drawn. 'Here goes nothing,' I thought, forcing myself not to throw up. Her skin was so much softer than anything I had cut through before, and blood seeped down into the sofa in thin lines. I was already regretting this. But I had to stay true to the task. Not for me. For everyone. For the woman who had trusted this complete stranger to save her life.

(Author jumping in here: if you're squeamish, jump ahead about a page)

A streak of fresh blood spilled from the opening. The others gasped but said nothing. I knew it was only a matter of time before I would meet the shin, but so far it was only soft tissue getting severed by the blade. I pushed the blade forward. Back again, and then the smooth sawing motion became jagged as the teeth of the saw graced against what was Mallow's bone. The slick rhythmic sounds of me piercing the skin and flesh over and over were soon replaced with a wet, hollow sound reminiscent that of sawing a log. But there was so much blood I could hardly see anything.

“Erh, could someone h-help clean the–” I started, but could barely hold my voice steady, and was certainly unable to pry my eyes away. If I did, I worried I’d never have it in me to look back.

“Here,” Ana said to my surprise. She took the towel and some ripped clothes and started wiping, soon her small hands were caked with blood as well.

It felt like an everlasting process. I knew none of the others were watching, but they all heard my grunts and saw the vast amount of pumping blood that trickled across the floor, spreading across. The horror show that was my hands, slick and covered in dark blood as it was smeared everywhere, trembled with every motion as the saw glided across the bone. It was virtually unavoidable to get caked down in dry or drying red wetness. It was tortously tedious sawing through bone, as it seemed to take forever. It was delicate work, and couldn’t be done swiftly, so I had to take my time doing it. But finally, the sounds reminiscent of sawing a log were exchanged for wetter, softer sounds as the saw tore into Mallow’s muscles and tendon.

I gagged several times, swearing I'd never eat mac-and-cheese again, as the sopping sounds of Mallow's meat getting pierced with the rapid thrusts of my bonesaw filled my ears. The sounds of breaking a well-cooked sausage in half tore through my ears as I broke through each millimeter. Now it was the remainder of her calf, where most of her muscle and tissue still hung somewhat together. With a small grunt, I managed to tear through it with a long series of loud squelches, and soon her lower leg laid freely below her, detached from the doctor on the sofa.

I dry-heaved a couple of times, nearly throwing up last night's snacks as I pushed aside what remained of her flesh. I forced whatever was coming up my throat down again, and then forced myself to inspect the pinkish and maroon wound, ready with a knife to cut excess. Quickly the musky stench of iron was all around me. My eyes watered, and I couldn't use my hands to clear them out as Mallow's blood was all over my fingers, hands, wrists, and probably more, but I honestly didn't care to check. Instead, I lifted a flop of flesh and tried to see where best to sow, ignoring the different colored arteries and the white tissue, while dabbing alcohol wipes around her wound to clean it as best as I could. From what I could tell, none of the blackness from around her wound had spread to her knee. Maybe the operation was successful. Only time will tell.

I grabbed the needle and thread, completely covering the coffee table in dark redness, and penetrated her skin with a small thud. Honestly, the sewing part was not as bad, compared to the other half of the operation. It took me some time, as my hands were shaking heavily and she required quite a lot of stitches, but in the end, I guess I could've been proud of the stitches if I wasn't feeling so utterly sick. I bandaged her leg the same way you wrap a ball in tape. Except the leg was drenched in blood and the tape was also coated in blood. I don't think anyone cares about the accuracy of my metaphors. I could only imagine how messy it would've been without litigating the leg first, her main artery being right there.

I checked Mallow, and found a steady pulse with one hand, trying to use the soaked towel to clean up blood from around her cut, helpfully assisted by Ana. I looked at the awkward leg lying alone without its owner. Surreal couldn't even explain it. Half an hour ago it was part of Dr. Mallow, now it was just there like it was some foreign object.

“Jesus Christ,” Lauren muttered. She must've moved closer when she realized I had sewn her up. “Let's hope it works.”

“What do we do with her leg?” I asked.

“Hey guys,” Peter said. “I didn't want to say anything, but I think the cannibals can smell blood pretty good.”

Lo and behold, I saw Raul and Abe standing by the door, holding it back while the infected pushed and roared at the door. I looked at Dr. Mallow, still knocked out. Shit.

“Raul, can you carry her?” I asked, him being much bigger than me.

“Fuck no! She's soaked,” Raul grunted.

“Peter?” I tried, but while he was taller than me, there was little doubt I was stronger.

“We need to go now!” Raul roared. Peter was already across the room to check the opposite hallway if there was a way out. He came back in and nodded.

“Lauren, help me hoist her legs… leg around me,” I said.

“You'll carry her?” Lauren said, moving to help me get Mallow into a seated position, I sat myself in front of her and wrapped her arms over my shoulder like a rucksack.

“I'm not letting her die after all that,” I said. “Besides, I promised I wouldn't let her become infected. Get that towel and tie her hands together.”

Lauren hesitated for a moment, unsure if she wanted to touch the soaked towel. Coming to her rescue I shot in, “Leave it. Use my shirt instead. The towel is soaked in blood and maybe it can serve as a distraction. Bringing it will only draw even more attention.”

A minute later I lifted myself up from the sofa, Dr. Mallow hoisted on my bare back, Lauren gathered the medical supplies we now doubt would need when Mallow woke up. Raul saw that we were ready to go. With a mutual nod, he and Abe let go of the door and we hurried where Peter and Ana were leading the way.

Chapter 3 - Oliver 3

Though the infected only walked fast, seemingly not able to keep the balance to run properly, the infected were unstoppable and insanely persistent and it made me wonder just how long I could jog around and also carry an unconscious female adult around on my back. Even in a place like college, you rarely had enough healthy cardio in your routine. But even if she was awake, Dr. Mallow couldn't exactly walk herself anyway. So I'd suck it up.

Raul, who had taken the lead, at least picked a route that gave the least amount of challenges. Abe took the rear, and would occasionally stop to fire off shots at the nearing infected, in return creating obstacles. In my strained mind, I thought the sounds of him shooting made unnecessary noise. Lauren agreed.

“Can you stop that?” she yelled through her panting. “We'll never shake them off when you keep shooting!”

And luckily Abe obliged. “We need, ugh, to go through a building or something, turn a corner. Just, ugh, just to get them off our backs or slow, ugh, them down. They can go on forever,” Abe panted.

“I agree,” I said, my voice barely audible.

“There!” Ana said suddenly. She barely spoke, but it was revealed she too had somewhat of an accent. Hispanic? Caribbean? I'd muse that when I wasn't running around with a lady on my back who I just had one of my most traumatic experiences with.

I didn't look at the building, as I was more focused on where my steps went, instead just followed as Raul led the group over to another campus office building. We couldn't keep moving like this. Mallow needed to remain stable and probably a blood transfusion. I was worried sick her stitches would come loose or that she'd start bleeding again. If only she could wake up when we got situated so she could tell me what to do. Though, slumber was perhaps the best part for her for now, as the coming pain and trauma would be something to behold, and I was in no position to give her pain medication.

“We need to get somewhere stable,” I muttered to Lauren, who was just to my right, trying to share my burden as much as it was possible. She had taken all of the medical supplies, and was the one who would occasionally check Dr. Mallow for a pulse.

“The stitches,” I muttered, tasting blood in my mouth, my breath icy and sharp.

“Abe, buy us a moment,” Lauren called.

Abe turned to shoot and Lauren quickly checked the bandages wrapped around the stump, before we resumed our brisk walk. The lack of response was all I needed to know. Lauren hurried up to Raul, talked to him, and shortly after came back.

“He wants us to get to the town center,” Lauren panted, giving a glance over her shoulder at the infected continuously following us. There were quite a bunch back there as blood and gunshots seemed to be their forte. “But he'll get us up to somewhere high so we get an overlook of where to go, or something. I don't think he's from around here.”

“We're lost?” I panted.

“Kinda,” Lauren muttered.

I would've been annoyed, being a local resident, but I was too exhausted and covered in sweat to care. We didn't run all that much but added weight made the brisk walk all the worse. I guess I was the only one who knew the ways around here, besides perhaps Lauren, but she hadn't lived in these parts for a while.

“Auntie, you know the new luxurious apartment building on the 17th? The one with eight floors?” Lauren nodded and went ahead again. It felt weird calling her auntie, as we never had that type of relationship. But she was my aunt after all. Anyway.

Raul nodded, hurrying over to a nearby building. He peered through a window. Inside were a number of desks and plenty of obstacles, but more importantly a back door that we could once again pry shut. Jamming doors was becoming a specialty.

Ana hurried to the door and whipped it open.

“Wait!” Raul called, shoving the girl aside. Immediately one of the infected fell over. Raul lopped its head off in one swipe with his big machete before it gave us trouble.

“Me and the broad clear it quick,” Raul said, nodding towards Lauren.

“Broad?” she asked indignantly, but donned her snubnose and followed. I didn't like her going in there, as I was worried more infected people lingered around.

I turned and looked at the horde behind us. Abe didn't shoot at them, but they still kept lumbering towards us. How were there so many? Peter hurried inside with Ana as Raul and Lauren made their way through the building. Soon we were boarding the front door and escaping through the back, out on the 17th finding the aforementioned apartment building right away. I carried Dr. Mallow in and had Raul slam the glass door shut once everyone was in. Few infected saw us so we looked to be safe for now. I almost fell over from exhaustion, but having a living being on my back forced me to remain standing, at least until someone would help her down. I doubted I could even crouch properly.

“The elevator is fucked,” Abe said, after mashing the buttons.

“Up the stairs,” Lauren suggested. I silently cursed.

“Then we gotta fight for every single floor,” Ana groaned.

“If there's any left,” Peter said hopefully, finally uttering something. I then noticed he had my, erh, I mean Abe's Glock.

“Maybe, ugh, don't shoot?” I suggested, remembering how the flock kept at us. However, I guess that was because they already had seen us. But still, best to be quiet, right?

“Soldier, help me here,” Raul said, shoving yet another set of sofas in front of yet another door, Abe rushing over to help.

An apartment block. A fucking great idea in the heat of the moment when we were fucking escaping from hordes of fucking infected, but as the horde was indeed behind us, we now had to fight up the stairs of each floor. Not only did we have to fight in hand-to-hand combat as each infected seemed to explode by the blades of Raul and Abe, but also my knees burned and screamed with each step. I wasn’t able to move quickly, nor did I have the energy to start again if we stopped. The other’s kept the fight going, while I focused on the one thing I could focus on, carrying Dr. Mallow just one more step at a time.

Dr. Mallow had started to groan as we reached the 7th floor. I just hoped she wouldn't be too audible once the pain kicked in. I was uncertain if I should give her any more pain medication without knowing the dose. By the time we got to the rooftop, Mallow wasn't conscious but I could tell pain wracked her body.

The last couple of meters felt like forever as my knees and shoulders ached.

“How did we not bring any of the sofas from downstairs?!” I joked. "Ana, how much you weigh?" I asked as she held the door for me.

“Erh?”

“I need a reference, and I think you're lighter than she is. Better to be safe, I figure,” I said. Ana was confused. “For dosing morphine, sorry.”

“55 kilos,” she replied.

“Erh, what's that, erh,” I muttered trying to convert to pounds in my head while almost stumbling onto the roof, immediately looking for someplace to lower Mallow down safely.

“About 121 pounds,” Peter said, helping me untie the still-wet towel keeping Mallow's wrists together. “I'm an engineer… or student… I mean I study engineering. Computers, mostly.”

I just nodded, trying to yet again find somewhere stable for Dr. Mallow. As this was one of the fancier apartment buildings they had been building in the later years there was a pool up here. And thus pool chairs. Lucky. Peter and I laid down Dr. Mallow on her own plastic pool chair before I sat on a bench next to her, taking out all the stuff from Lauren. I should've sorted it so I didn't have to empty it all out.

Mallow groaned annoyedly.

“Where's the leg?” Mallow moaned, pain tickling the absent limb. Phantom pain. A common occurrence among people who had an amputation.

“Erh, we left it, Doc. Infected came and we kinda had to go,” I explained, not daring to meet her eyes. She was kind of a scary lady, not gonna lie. Or maybe it was just impatience.

“Good riddance,” she muttered, not crying over spilled milk, starting to sit up in the chair. I wasn't sure what kind of mental state she was in, so I moved a hand to her shoulder so she wouldn't stand. “You got any of that ketamine?”

“Right here. I measured it for 121 pounds, 55 kilos,” I said.

“You need more than that,” Mallow said, gritting her teeth as pain no doubt rose from her foot. “Give me the syringe and I'll save you the awkward question. And we need a blood transfusion. And you even brought an IV? Good boy.”

“I saved it for the transfusion. I'm type O negative, by the way,” I said, hoping that would help.

“Splendid,” she grunted.

We did the transfusion in silence. I was just happy I was the one who had raided for supplies, I doubted anyone would've thought to bring all this other stuff. I saw Abe's questioning glances. He was the military brat, and so had to be tough and everything. Yet, he wasn't the one who had the knowledge to bandage nor the one to take the lead. Raul seemed like a natural leader in the group, despite being the newest. Even if we could call ourselves a group. I looked at the others. Besides Lauren, I didn't know them. We hadn't really gotten introduced with everything being so hectic.

I turned to Mallow. She was scanning the others too, who all were looking in all random directions. She then looked back at me.

“Dr. Roxane Mallow, here to save lives,” Mallow joked, looking at her missing leg. “As a surgeon you did well, aside from not bringing the amputated leg, everything went great, I think.”

“Thanks,” I muttered. “So ehm, Dr. Mallow, I'm Oliver. Nurse, local resident. My favorite color is blue. I don't know, we should probably get to know one another. The six of us.”

“Good to know. For the bandages, if you should need any,” she responded. “And I like red, as in red wine. Was it you who carried me all the way up here?”

“Yup,” I responded, nodding at the less-than-fond memory, of which I still felt burning in my quads. Mallow took my arm and gave me a friendly squeeze.

“Strong kid. Thank you,” she said and smiled triumphantly.

“You know these other guys?” I asked.

“Not really,” she said. "But I'm not in a condition to go around and introduce myself. I like your aunt though. And that one, the new girl, is really pretty.”

“Fair enough,” I responded, standing up. Who first? I guess Peter, as he was closest by, hanging around a vent doing something. I also wanted to kind of get a feel for Raul. “You are Peter, right? Student here at the college.”

“Yes, computing and software engineering. Have we met before?” he asked. He seemed calmer now that we were somewhat out of danger.

“No, erh, well maybe, but not really,” I said, holding out my hand. “Oliver. Oliver Johnson.”

“Peter Kull,” he said, accepting my hand. “You're a pretty good nurse.”

“I had a good teacher,” I said, nodding at Mallow. “How'd you guys meet? You, Abe, and her?”

“We met at the medical place you found us. I was there to meet a girl… well… Abe was closing the door, one got through and then bit Roxy. So I only know them like ten minutes more than you. You and Lauren? And who are these other people? The tall guy suddenly taking the lead?” Peter said.

“Lauren is my aunt. Raul and Ana? I'm not sure. They kinda just showed up when we were raiding. Ana lent us her backpack for the supplies, and Raul seems pretty capable, but I don't really know a whole lot about him,” I said.

“I asked him. He's a former Marine. Gunnery sergeant or something,” Peter replied. “I don't know if I like him. The way he looks at me… I don't think he likes nerds very much. Nor Abe, it seems.”

“Abe seems capable too though,” I said. Though he had a habit of being late it seemed. “Favorite color by the way?”

“Purple?” Peter answered unsure.

I gave Peter's shoulder a quick friendly slap and headed over to Lauren. I felt like I overstepped with her. It felt like a week ago, but it was just earlier today. So much had happened since she woke me up at five AM. The world was completely different from just a day ago. How did it happen so fast? I didn't even know what time it was now.

“Lauren?” I said, looking at her sitting on a wooden crate of sorts, her form cascading against the sky behind her, her brown hair blowing lightly in the wind.

“That's me,” she said. Her tone made it hard to gauge how she felt. So I sat down next to her and just went for it.

“Listen, I'm sorry for holding Steve's… you shooting him when he turned over you. I now know the danger, but I had no idea. But it's wrong either way. You did it to protect me, and I truly apologize for hurting you that way, even if it sucks that it was Steve,” I said.

“It's okay. I know it was earlier today but I'm over your little outburst. I forgive you. After you operated on Roxy, then carried her all over despite being dead tired? I know you can be a good person. Just watch what you say sometimes,” Lauren said, standing up. “I'm still human, y'know.”

She then bent down and gave me a soft kiss on the forehead, gave me a small smile and headed over to our amputated doctor and Ana. I felt oddly strange as she did that. It was motherly like when my mom would do it, but I don't know, it felt kinda odd. I think I even got a light tingle of goosebumps. Perhaps it was just the touch of a friendly caring lady after a long, extremely tough day that did me in a little bit.

I shoved it aside and decided to find Raul instead. Abe was watching the door so it seemed like Raul was the only one scouting around.

He glared over at me with almost angry eyes behind those sunglasses. Like I had done something to offend him. He best be on good behavior though, as Mallow and I were the only two medical personnel between us and the town center, and only I had legs.

“Mornin'” he greeted.

“Howdy, stranger,” I replied. “What's your favorite color?

“What the fuck have you been drinking?” Raul asked. He hesitated for a moment, as if he actually gave it a thought, then replied, “Blue.”

“Cool. Getting any wiser here? I haven't been able to look around. I'm sort of from here, so,” I said, glancing at whatever Raul was looking at. Just flat hills and buildings. “If you wanna look at the down center, you're looking the wrong way.”

I moved towards the correct direction, and to my surprise, Raul followed.

“Maybe you can get us out of here then,” Raul said.

“Out of here? What do you mean?” I asked, slightly confused.

“I know where the town center is, that's not why I was looking in the wrong direction. Look,” Raul said, pointing in the, indeed, right direction. I looked. There it was.

I could see the barricades even from where I stood. Barbwire, containers, sandbags, fences, all the jazz you'd expect from a makeshift fort. And surrounding it was what had to be thousands of infected holding it under siege. The snarls and roars of the horde could be heard even up here. There was no chance we'd ever get there. And even if we did, what then? They looked doomed.

“What is that?” Ana suddenly asked excitedly. Raul and I looked over.

“What's what?” Dr. Mallow asked, trying to peer over the half-wall. Being seated, and with only one foot that didn't hurt like a motherfucker, made it hard to see.

I looked at what Ana pointed at. It was Courtington Park, North West of the town center. Then I heard it. Shooting and helicopters, even the roars of the infected as they got gunned down. The military was striking back!

*

Hope you enjoyed. Let me know what you think, any feedback is appreciated.

The name is a working title, might change it. Maybe I could do a poll?