WILLA, стр. 35
After that, we did a lot more running. Sweat and blood ran down my face, blurring my sight. I don’t know in which direction we ran. I don’t know how long we ran. I don’t even know when I lost my family. I thought I was following the sounds of their feet, their guns, and their yells reasonably well, but at some point, I lost them. Next, the sounds of their voices faded, and then the cracks of their guns were gone.
Once or twice, I called out their names, but for the most part, I was too out of breath to make a sound.
Eventually, I collapsed at the foot of a large tree. I was too tired to run anymore—too tired to fight. If I was going to die, then so be it. But nothing attacked me. As my breathing calmed and my heartbeat stopped thumping in my ears, I realized the world around me was quiet.
I opened my mouth to call someone’s name, but the only noise I made was a dry squeak. The bag of stuff I accumulated while searching the park was gone. I was sure I’d dropped it early on in my flight from the zombies. My backpack was in shreds, and most of the stuff I had in it had fallen out. I found a bottle of water at the bottom. That was all that I had in the way of sustenance. Fortunately, I still had most of my weapons.
After sipping the water, I used a torn shirt to wipe my face. Once I could see, I scanned the forest around me, wondering where I was. I saw no sign of my family or the creatures that chased us out of the trailer park. Panic wanted to overwhelm me, but I forced myself to take a bunch of deep breaths before ordering my body to move.
I continued to sip the water, but I’d screamed and cried myself hoarse, so I had no way of calling out to my family.
For hours, I walked in the direction we’d run. I found no sign of my uncle or cousins. Footsteps and debris littered the ground, but they led off in too many areas for me to follow. The only thing I knew to do was find shelter for the night.
Eventually, I stumbled upon a small house sitting by itself just past the tree line. I prayed as I opened the door that my family had found the place as well.
They hadn’t.
The home appeared to have been empty since day one of the outbreak. There were some supplies left in the cabinets, so I’d be all right staying a day or so and waiting for someone to find me.
I ambled into the bathroom and stripped with only a glow stick to shine a light on my actions. I threw my dirty clothes into the hamper out of habit. I rinsed blood and dirt off my body the best I could with a jug of water I found in the back of a cabinet in the kitchen.
Once clean, I discovered a nasty wound on my upper arm. When I had gotten it, I didn’t know. I hadn’t felt it until I had cleaned it. I guess that was due to shock and the adrenaline pumping through my body.
“Shit,” I said, pulling the bloody rag away from the wound. The skin and muscle looked so gnarled that I was sure it was a bite wound.
I didn’t know how or when I was bit, but that was what the wound had to be.
I wanted to curl into a ball and cry. I thought about putting a bullet in my head right then, but I couldn’t bring myself to pull the trigger.
I did throw up the water I drank before forcing myself to get my shit together and bandage my arm. The entire time I cleaned the area, doctored it, and wrapped it, I cried.
After dressing and eating a can of Vienna sausages, I had a long mental talk with myself.
There was no way I could go back to my family with the wound. Uncle Jamie would shoot me on the spot, and I wouldn’t blame him. He’d looked so tired and lost those last few days. He didn’t need the nightmare killing another family member who was still alive would give him, and I couldn’t risk them letting me turn.
Once dressed and fed, I left the house. I needed to run from Uncle Jamie and my cousins. I had to make sure neither they nor anyone else found me. I knew I had to find a place to lock myself inside where I couldn’t get out and hurt people.
25.
In a deep state of shock, I walked late into the night. I had no idea what direction I was going and didn’t care. Eventually, I fell asleep in a dollar store. The front doors of the place were gone, so I grabbed a pillow and blanket off a shelf and curled into a back corner, fully expecting to wake as a zombie.
I didn’t.
I knew I hadn’t because the pain that woke me some hours later was horrific. Those creatures never appeared to hurt, not even when they lost a limb. I was both relieved and sad when I woke alone.
For some time, I lay on the floor crying and wishing I’d die already. When the pain got to be too much to bear, I rose and searched the store for medical supplies.
With tears pouring down my face, I dressed the wound in the store’s bathroom—though I knew it was pointless—and put on clean clothes that I’d pulled off one of the racks. Once that was done, I ate a protein bar.
A part of me said I should stay in the store and wait for my death, but I couldn’t. I didn’t know where my family was, and I