Alive? Page 3

  Finally, there was nothing left. Violet was sweating, exhausted, and sore, but finished.

  What am I? What’s wrong with me?

  She needed to work this through in her head. Needed to put the pieces of this gross, blood-covered puzzle together. Quite obviously, the flesh-eating thing was a new phase in her life. It had to be connected to the bite. The taste of the man’s blood had made her lose control and blackout. She’d become like the other zombies, but now she was fine again. Was this happening to all of them? She doubted that.

  Violet shook the thoughts away. She couldn’t deal with them now. Not here, not with the dead man beside her. She straightened out her dress. It was dry, so she must’ve been passed out for a while. Head spinning, she moved toward the door, sliding the lock to one side and opening it cautiously. No sign of the zombies, but it was getting dark. She supposed she could stay in the store for the night, but she didn’t want to stay with the corpse; she wanted to go home. Stepping out into the rain, she began to walk.

  The rain was heavy, and the sky seemed to be getting darker by the second. Violet was soon soaked to the skin. Her hair fell like a heavy curtain around her face, and she shivered. The blood from her dress, diluted by rain, dripped onto the concrete as she walked.

  There was a sound behind her, and she turned to see a can rolling across the ground.

  Where did that come fro—

  The thought was interrupted by the sight of three of the dead, almost right behind her. The rain had disguised their footsteps. She had never even heard them.

  Oh, come on!

  She ran as fast as she could, water splashing up from the cold ground. Her wet clothing slowed her down, but she kept going. She arrived on George Avenue, and then darted into the first house she saw. The door was open, and she slammed it shut behind her. She didn’t think they’d seen her come in.

  There was a sound from her right, and Violet spun around. A figure stood in the doorway to what she assumed was the living room.

  “Please don’t be another zombie,” Violet wheezed.

  The figure moved forward, and she breathed a sigh of relief. He was definitely alive. Though there was little light in the room, she could see he was tall with dark brown hair. In fact, not only was he alive, but he was also someone she recognized.

  “Wait, I know you,” Violet began. “Matt, right? We used to go to school togeth—” She was interrupted as a zombie appeared behind Matt, grabbing hold of his arms. He staggered backward, forcing the creature into the wall as he attempted to shake it off. They struggled for what felt like the longest time, though it could only have been seconds, before Matt broke free and slammed a knife into the creature’s skull. It fell to the floor with a thud. Matt was breathing heavily, blood spattered on his face. He stood up straight, staring at her now.

  “Violet?” He said her name with surprise, as though the sight of her standing in front of him was completely unbelievable.

  “Nice to see another person alive,” Violet breathed, smiling. “How are you? It’s been a long time.”

  “Yeah, it has.”

  “What are you doing with yourself now?”

  Matt was currently leaning down to pull his knife out of the skull of the thing on the floor. He lifted his head, quirking an eyebrow.

  “Oh yeah…right. Zombies.”

  There was a crash as the front door began to buckle. The dead had found them.

  “Run,” Matt ordered, heading toward the back of the house. Violet followed him into the rain.

  “Where?” she called as they ran. Matt pointed to a large building up ahead. It was the high school. She tried to keep up as Matt charged for the open gates. The doors were strong, and if they could get inside before the zombies, they should be able to keep them out. Matt waited for her at the entrance.

  “Duck,” he instructed, swinging his bat over Violet’s head to hit the zombie behind her. She hadn’t realized it was so close. Using her last burst of energy, she sprinted to the main doors of the building, rattling the handles.

  Locked.

  Of course they’re locked.

  “Do you have the keys?” Violet asked frantically as Matt caught up. The dead were getting closer.

  He reached into his pocket, then swore loudly.

  Great.

  “This way,” he said, moving toward the side of the building, scanning the walls as he ran. He stopped, pointing at an open window. It wasn’t too high. Violet chanced a look behind her; the zombies were close, but they had enough time. Matt had reached the window first. He climbed into the building, then held out his hand to help her inside. She grabbed it, and he began to pull her up and in.

  The window was smaller than she’d anticipated, and it wouldn’t open any more than it already was. Violet’s head and shoulders were in, but her bottom half was dangling. It might’ve been her dress catching, but she couldn’t help but feel that getting stuck in a half-open window during the zombie apocalypse was enough of a reason to start feeling bad about her body shape. Matt was still pulling, and she began to move forward into the school. The dead had arrived now. One grabbed hold of her leg. She kicked out violently, managing to free herself, and was finally yanked into the room.

  She and Matt stood in the darkness for a moment, both struggling to catch their breath.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  Violet nodded, bending over and taking a big lungful of air. The building was dark, but within seconds, she realized they weren’t alone. Someone else had entered the room through the door in front of them.

  Oh crap.

  “Violet?”

  Amy’s face was just visible in the fading light. Her expression was a mixture of shock, joy, and fear. She grabbed hold of Violet, pulling her in for a hug.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” Amy whispered when she finally released her friend.

  Violet shook her head. She couldn’t believe it either. Had all of that really just happened? Had she just escaped the dead for the third time? Fourth? She couldn’t even remember.

  “Come on,” Matt said, as the zombies continued to pound on the glass. “We should get out of here before the sound draws more of them.”

  Amy took Violet by the hand, leading her from the dark classroom. Matt shut the door. The three of them made their way through the hallways, now almost completely black, up a flight of stairs, and into a small room. The lights were on up there, and Violet could see several people dotted around inside. She recognized the room as the teachers’ lounge, though it had changed since the last time she had seen it. Several of the chairs and couches had been moved around and turned into makeshift beds. There were cans of food piled on one of the kitchen units, and a few bottles of water on another. By the state it was in, she guessed it had been lived in for at least a week.

  I need to find out how long I was unconscious.

  There were five other people inside, all staring at her with shocked expressions. Violet supposed a new arrival covered in blood would hardly be a comforting sight. She was just grateful her bite was hidden by the coat.

  Violet was able to see Amy more clearly now that they were in the light. She appeared tired. Her blonde hair was limp, tied roughly with an elastic band. Her eyes were red, with large bags underneath. She was thinner, and her usually clear skin had broken out in pimples.

  Ha! Who’s smug about their perfect skin now?

  That’s horrible; you’re a horrible friend.

  Now that she could see properly, she could also take in Matt. She’d had some classes with him at school, but he’d moved a couple of years ago. He wasn’t much different than last time she’d seen him: skinny, unkempt dark brown hair, bright green eyes. Violet always thought they were the kind of eyes that seemed to see right into her soul.

  Violet might’ve had a crush on Matt at school. Though she wouldn’t have admitted it, of course, because Amy wouldn’t have let her forget it.

  Apparently feeling her scrutiny, Matt smiled and said, �
��It’s good to see you, Violet.”

  Thankfully, Violet was too exhausted and emotionally drained to take part in her go-to response when a boy she liked spoke to her—blush profusely or do this weird laugh-snort—so she simply nodded.

  Amy addressed the rest of the group. “This is Violet.”

  The others moved closer. The first to speak was a tall guy with brown hair and warm eyes. He was probably a couple of years older than her.

  “Joe,” he said with a smile, speaking with a strong English accent. “Nice to see someone else avoided the biters.” He thought for a moment. “So far, anyway.”

  “Comforting, Joe,” Amy muttered.

  Violet was introduced to another guy—Sam. He was shorter than Joe, muscular, and had short brown hair. Sam seemed like the kind of guy who was probably used to using a lot of product to keep that hair in check, and it had become a little messy after some time in the zompocalypse.

  No one ever thinks about the effect the undead uprising has on your hair.

  There was a red-headed girl—Maggie—who was probably around fourteen or fifteen. An older woman—Emily—had caramel skin and beautiful dark eyes. She had a familiar face, and Violet recalled she’d been a teacher. Not one of hers, though. The last was a man—Tom. He had blond hair, and an expression she couldn’t help but think was rather smug.

  Amy shook her head. “I still can’t believe you’re here. Violet, I was so worr… Is that my dress?” She eyed the bloodied, sequined monstrosity and scowled. “I told you to be careful with that.”

  Violet raised an eyebrow. “Really? Now? We’re doing this now? I almost got eaten by dead people.”

  Amy shook her head. “Sorry.”

  “That’s okay—”

  “It’s just my favorite dress, and I thought—”

  “Yeah, I got it.”

  Sam, clearly feeling the vibe of the room, stepped a little closer.

  “Have you been out there all this time?” he asked. He meant outside, out with the dead, alone. Violet nodded. Sam seemed surprised, but also a little impressed.

  “You must be fast.”

  You literally could not be more wrong.

  Violet shook her head. “Just lucky.”

  “She’s covered in blood,” Tom said. He pointed at Violet accusingly. “She’s been bitten.”

  Her heart began to race. She knew the coat was covering the bite, for now, but she didn’t like the certainty in Tom’s voice. What if they found out? Everyone was staring at her now, and Sam moved forward.

  “Show us.” It wasn’t said unkindly, but it was firm. Violet was suddenly aware of the baseball bat he held casually in his left hand. It was still down at his side, but he seemed to be gripping it more tightly.

  Amy stepped in front of her friend. “Don’t,” she said to Sam.

  “I’m not going to do anything,” he replied. “We just need to be sure. You know the rules. If she’s been bitten, she can’t stay.”

  “Why?” Violet asked, though she was sure she already knew the answer. “What happens if you’re bitten?”

  The group looked confused, as though the question made no sense. When Sam finally spoke, it was slowly, as if to a child.

  “You turn. You become one of the biters.”

  Violet felt a lump in her throat. “How long does it take?”

  Matt shrugged. “An hour. Sometimes a few more. Not long, though. I’ve seen it happen even faster.”

  Sam regarded Violet carefully. “Have you been bitten, Violet?”

  What could she say? If she admitted she had, they would throw her out. She wouldn’t last another day outside. Even if she managed to explain, which would be practically impossible, would they believe it? What would she even say…

  Yeah, I was bitten, and I think I might be dead, but I’m not sure. I’ve definitely eaten at least one person, though. Anyway, where shall I sleep?

  No, that response pretty much guaranteed being kicked out at best, getting beaten to death with Sam’s baseball bat at worst.

  “No,” she lied. “I haven’t been bitten.” It was easier than she’d expected; the words slipped right off the tongue. The others seemed happy enough with it, though Sam kept his eyes fixed on her. It was Tom, however, who shook his head.

  “How can we trust you? Show us!”

  Matt held up a hand. “If she says she hasn’t, that’s good enough for me.”

  Violet felt a huge flood of gratitude toward Matt, even though he was technically making a catastrophic mistake.

  “It won’t be good enough when she’s chewing your face off,” Tom continued. “Get her to show us!”

  Violet scowled. Someone just got himself to the top of the face-eating list.

  Joe raised an eyebrow. “What do you want her to do, strip in front of all of us?”

  “Amy,” Sam began, his voice gentle. “She’s your friend. We’ll give you some privacy, but you need to check her.”

  “This is stupid,” Amy protested, but Sam held up his hand.

  “We have to know for sure.”

  She sighed. “Fine.”

  The others turned away, and Violet’s heart began to race again. Amy caught her eye with a puzzled expression. Slowly, understanding washed over her face. Violet unzipped the coat, and then pulled her arm free to show the bite. Amy stared at it for several seconds. She reached out and gently felt the stitches, moving the arm to inspect it closer before looking up into her friend’s eyes.

  “Well?” Sam asked, his back still to them.

  “She’s fine,” Amy replied, without breaking eye contact with Violet. She put her friend’s arm back into the coat, squeezing her hand as she did so. When the others faced them again, the mood was immediately more relaxed.

  “Good,” Sam said. “Sorry we had to do that, but we had to be sure.”

  Violet nodded, not trusting herself to talk.

  “Where’s the blood from?” Tom asked.

  Violet caught sight of a few irritated glances in Tom’s direction, and couldn’t help but wonder whether he was a particularly popular member of the group. She already knew she didn’t like him; though probably because he was the only one who seemed to think there might be something a little ‘off’ about her.

  “I was with someone who died,” she replied. It wasn’t technically a lie. She had just decided not to add, And I was the one who killed him.

  “I’d rather not talk about it,” Violet continued.

  Sam seemed to understand. “We’ve all got stories like that.”

  I’m pretty sure you haven’t.

  “If you want to go and clean up, the showers are still working,” Emily said. “I can wash your clothes for you and find you some clean ones to wear in the meantime.”

  “Thank you,” Violet nodded.

  “I’ll take her down,” Amy offered, taking her by the arm and leading her from the room.

  The girls changing room was large, with lockers and benches on one side, and showers on the other. Though Violet and Amy had made their way down through dark hallways, Amy flicked the lights on when they got inside.

  “We only use the lights in rooms with no windows, or where we can block them,” she explained.

  Violet remembered how the blinds had been drawn upstairs. “Are they drawn to the light?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  For a moment, neither of them spoke. Finally, Violet took Amy’s hand.

  “Thank you.”

  “I know you wouldn’t try to put us in danger, so I need you to explain to me why you didn’t say anything. If you’re going to turn—”

  “I’m not,” Violet interrupted.

  “How can you know that?” Amy asked. “Everybody does.”

  “I was bitten on the first day. I’m fine.” Violet chose her words carefully. She didn’t want to tell Amy about the man she had killed. Not because she didn’t trust her. Amy was, and had always been, fiercely loyal. She’d keep her hideous secret. But Violet couldn’t tell her because
she didn’t want her to worry, or worse, be afraid of her.

  “I’m not going to turn,” Violet repeated.

  Amy’s whole body seemed to relax. “Wow,” she breathed. “So you must be immune to it? To whatever this thing is?”

  “I don’t know. I think I’m infected with…something.”

  “Why?”

  Violet took off her coat, holding out her arm. “The veins around the bite are black. Something has happened. I’m infected; I’m just not like them.”

  “But they’re dead.” Amy paused, eyes widening. “Are you dead?”

  “I don’t know.” Violet ran her hands through her hair in frustration. “It’s not like I can google my symptoms.”

  Amy punched her on the arm.

  “Ow!”

  “So you felt that?”

  “Yes!”

  “Maybe you’re not dead?”

  Violet scowled. “Thank you, Doctor.”

  Amy crossed her arms. “I’m just trying to help.” She sighed. “Okay, well, what do we know? The infection kills people. They die, and then they come back to life. What happened after you were bitten?”

  “I blacked out,” Violet admitted. “For a while, I think. How long have you been here?”

  “Ten days.”

  Violet’s eyes widened. “I only woke up today. So I must’ve been unconscious ever since the day it happened, the day after the party.”

  Amy sounded surprised. “You didn’t eat or drink for nine days?”

  God, I hope not.

  “I don’t know. How can we find out if I’m dead?” That was a question she’d never imagined herself having to ask.

  Amy thought for a moment, and then her eyes lit up. “I could cut your wrists?”

  Violet paused, eyes narrowing. “Okay, good idea. Can you see any problems with that?”

  Amy seemed to be thinking, then bit her lip, “Oh, yeah.”

  “Yeah, what’s the best that can happen in that scenario? I find out I’m not dead…and we celebrate in the ten minutes it takes for me to bleed out all over the floor.”

  “Okay, it was just an idea.”

  “Yeah, well, it was terrible.”