May 22, 2019 - O2 Remaining: 112 Hours / 4.67 Days - 12:24 AM

Eury Morrissey

Kelly grabbed my arm and dragged me towards the propped open door of the shop. Inside, he closed and locked the glass door, but I could still hear howls and screeches they were making.

After double-checking the door, Kelly leaned in close to my ear and whispered, “I need you to go first, find somewhere to hide. If you see something or someone, shout.” His hot breath against my ear caused static ripples down my neck.

I nodded without thinking. Kelly’s lips disappeared as he nodded solemnly. 

I took a moment to take stock of our new surroundings. The building that we picked was a clothing store. Specifically, it looked like a baby clothing store. This was good for us since none of the racks were tall enough to hide in. But, that fact worked both ways and the lack of big, vision-obscuring racks meant we would have a harder time finding anywhere to lay low. Other than maybe the few aisles of shelves that made up the back of the store.

When it became clear none of them followed us to the shop, I hugged the side wall, and led us deeper into the store to avoid any window shoppers looking for their next meal.

I quickly regretted agreeing to go first. There was no way to know what, or who was waiting in the confines of long shadows. But that was all animal instincts compared to the real threat at the front, so I pressed onward to the back wall of the store. Reaching the dark back corner, I saw an opportunity, a simple wooden door at the opposite end of the wall. One that could have been our salvation. I didn’t know whether I should have breathed a sigh of relief or hold my breath. Whether it was our safe room or not, there were still the aisles to worry about that. The ones that opened to the maze that was the rest of the store.

Whoever designed this shopfloor deserved to be shot.

I slowly approached the first aisle. Peeked around the corner. And then thankfully found it empty. That being said, it did give me a good look at the glass storefront and the street beyond. Thankfully, it too was empty. Aisle after aisle. Nothing. No-one. The street was still empty, but I could hear the howling from them a little better.

As I approached another aisle, I heard a loud crash of broken glass and the whine of twisting metal outside cut through the quiet. I stopped, stared down the aisle.

Had they broken into the shop? Or was it...

For a tense few seconds, I stood there. Waited. Lungs craving more O2 than my cannula provided.

But nothing came.

I assured myself that they weren't coming. A lie to be sure, but there was only one more aisle. We were almost at the door. So close to safety. I continued on to the last aisle and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that like the others, it too was empty. I quickly opened the door for Kelly, letting him go first as I stood guard. But as he struggled to get the cart through the small door, my heart stopped.

Across the street, a pair of tearful eyes appeared, looking directly at me. It was as if my entire body was suddenly flooded with adrenaline. My heart began to pound as I stood as still as possible. A storm of O2 rushed through cannula as I tried and failed to breathe. The woman shuffled slowly across the street toward the shop, never taking her eyes off of me. But when the cart banged against the back door, the woman writhed slightly, breaking her hungry glare, her attention-drawing towards the front door instead.

“Shhh,” I whispered.

Kelly froze. Thankfully silent.

Her eyes flowed almost indecisively between me and the front door of the shop, never stopping on either one for long.

Could she not see me? We were in the dark, maybe between the glare of the glass and the shadows we were hidden.

“Leave the cart,” I whispered again.

Kelly quietly emerged from the door with a confused look on his face. I pushed my hand down.

*Leave it.*

He nodded, then his eyes widened. I turned slowly to see what grabbed his attention.

A man had joined the woman at the window, looking inside, but seemingly more interested in what the woman was doing rather than us.

I felt slight relief at the fact that he couldn’t see us too. Or at least he was too distracted to.

Then, just as suddenly, another man joined them. Then another. Then one more. Before I even realized, five of them, hands pressed against the glass, were skulking and hunting for us. I was frozen. Another torrent of O2 rushed into my nostrils as fear gripped my lungs. Kelly, having not let himself be paralyzed by his own fear, laid a soft hand against my shoulder and gently guided me first into him, then through the door.

After carefully pushing the cart out of the way, he gently shut the door behind us. In the dark, he put a single finger against my lips. I felt his hand travel down my arm, slowly. The fear that I had running around in my chest transformed into a wholly different kind of anxiety.

His hand stopped when it met the cold iron of the fire poker in mine. With a meaningful shake, he let go.

Grow up, Eury.

I heard his clothes rustle as he prepared something, then, with a click, the small backroom was lit up by his flashlight. The sudden flash of light made me jump as I frantically looked to the darkened corners and edges.

My subconscious couldn’t accept that we were alone here. So, I kept searching as Kelly advanced into the backroom. Down a small hall made by the void between the shelves that lined the wall, and the cardboard boxes of packed merchandise.

Opposite to the door into the back room, there were another two rooms. Kelly used his sword to open the first. Satisfied, he progressed to the second. Opening it, he quickly walked inside, taking the light with him. As I found myself in darkness again, I felt an odd sense of relief. With the return of the darkness, the return of the quiet, I was alone, and somehow, I felt safe. The seconds passed quietly. Eventually, the muscles in my legs thawed allowing me a few trepidatious steps toward the room at the back. My legs were exhausted like I had run a mile in a minute.

The soft glow of the flashlight spilled out of the open door. Inside, it was silent.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

That’s relieving.

Walking inside, I was greeted by an interesting sight. Kelly sat on a comfortable looking rolling chair, legs resting open, with his head laying back like his neck was broken. I slowly closed the door behind me. I spoke the moment the door shut.

“I think we’re—”

“Uggghhh.” Kelly interrupted me with a long, drawn-out sigh.

“—fine to talk. You okay?” I asked but he didn’t even look up.

“Yeah. I'm good." Kelly responded, in an unconvincing monotone.

After taking off my bag, and untangling my cannula from the straps I took a seat on a small foldable chair. It felt like my knees fell off my body as my muscles finally, fully relaxed. We sat in near silence for a few minutes. The only sound being the sound of oxygen being forced into my nose, and Kelly’s laboured breathing.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked again, finally looking at him.

He leaned forward in his chair and looked at me. It was like he had just finished a marathon. Exhausted, probably dehydrated, most likely hungry—just like me—already desperate to call it a night, even though we only just started.

“Yeah.” He repeated, in the same monotone.

I lightly kicked his chair. “Okay, seriously, what the hell’s going on?”

“It's just… I’m just… I’m tired I guess.”

“Yeah, that was… pretty hectic.” I chose my words carefully.

“You could say that.” As he leaned further forward, it was like a switch flipped in him. Gradually, his affable demeanour began to rise to the surface like scum on broth. “You could also call it a cluster-fuck. But hey, tomato, tamato.”

“Why didn’t you run when I told you to?” I asked.

“I thought I already answered this.” 

“No, you just turned it around on me,” I said pressing the issue.

“And then, I called us both suicidal idiots, or something like that, didn’t I?” Kelly responded.

“Idiot or not, why didn’t you run?”

Kelly screwed up his face, confused like logic left the room. “Because then you would’ve been hurt. Or worse. And god knows what using that gun would’ve done.”

I crossed my arms. “It would’ve done what guns usually do.”

“Yeah, go boom and probably bring down the whole infected population of Sheridan for a fancy feast party. Not a great plan, unless you haven’t figured that out.”

“...I have.”

“Also, in case you’ve forgotten in O2-deprived noggin, I’m not looking to let you die. And I promise that I’m gonna do everything in my power to keep you safe while I keep you alive. Physically and mentally.”

Mentally?

Far too late for that isn’t it?

Kelly continued, “I just… I want to make it up to you, and right now, this is all that I can do. And I’m not gonna let this chance slip through my fingers again.”

Again?

“Make it up to me? What the hell are you going on about?” Kelly looked away from me which made me more curious. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“it's nothing, I’m just pissed at myself is all.” He massaged his hand. “I fucked up last night, then I nearly messed it all up again. I just keep getting you hurt.”

“Hurt? How have I been hurt?” I wasn't enjoying the cryptic talk.

“Don’t lie. Not for my sake. I heard you yesterday, I know.” Kelly looked at me with remorse in his eyes.

“Know? What the hell are you talking about?”

“I heard you crying last night! Plus you’ve been pissed at me all day because of what happened last night, and—”

“Pissed? Oh god.” That was how he saw that? I was trying to be nice. “I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at myself!”

Kelly’s eyes flung open, shocked. For fuck's sake, of course, that’s how he’d see it.

“Because of... what happened with Curlers?” What started out as a statement quickly became a question as he asked it.

“Well, you’ve at least got that part right,” I said.

“Then you are angry. I knew—”

“Shut up please,” I said, interrupting him. “I’m angry and upset about what happened last night, you’re—”

“That’s wh—”

“I told you to be quiet for a second. I’m upset with myself, about what happened, and to tell you the truth, it makes me even more mad that I made you think I was mad at you.” I said, staring at my boots. They were soaked. I didn’t even remember going through any puddles. “I’m mad because I almost got you killed, all for me. All because I made a stupid mistake. I’m so sorry. I don’t want you to get hurt because, if you haven’t noticed, I can’t do this without you.”

A few seconds later, I looked back up at Kelly, who was staring at me. Without blinking.

“Can you stop it? You’re being creepy.” I said, trying to break the tension a little.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I was just joking.”

“No, I mean, I’m sorry. It’s… it’s all of this. It’s a fucking nightmare. I just wish that I could wake up from it soon.”

“God, I know what you mean.”

Finally, for a few sweet minutes, we were quiet, and I felt a huge weight of tension float off the both of us.

But then, Kelly began to chew on his thumbnail again.

Why’s he nervous now? He wasn't the only one though. There was something about being back here alone with him.

“So,” He hugged his knees closer to his chest as he spoke. “I don’t really know how to ask you this.”

“Spit it out,” I said, I could feel my blood pressure rising. Was it excitement or anxiety?

“Do you… Do you hate kids or something?” What the hell? Was that a weak-ass proposition or something? Not really the best line to open open things up with.

“What? I mean I’m flattered but—” I began, but I was interrupted by his laughter.

“No! I mean, don’t flatter yourself but that’s not what I was talking about.” Before continuing, he looked back up at me with a genuine smile. I couldn’t help but notice the worry that still lingered in his eyes. “Thanks for that though.”

“For letting you turn me down, or?”

“For making me laugh a little. Things have been… really terrible and then…” He trailed off.

“Then what?”

“Then the bridge happened.”

“The van, you mean?”

“Yeah.”

Even though it hadn't been half an hour, thinking back to it now, it almost felt blurry in my mind.

“What was that even about?” He asked.

“I… don’t really know. I barely even remember, to be honest.”

“You don’t remember it? You were standing there holding that gun at—It doesn’t matter, it was like you were possessed or something.”

“Possessed?" I asked before seeing the similarities. "I mean, that is a way to put it."

“Like the Manchurian candidate or something?” He glared at me warily. “You’re not actually crazy or something, are you?”

“No, I’m not. But in a way I sort of feel like I am.” I fidgeted with the cannula tube. “I don’t really know.”

“The brown fox jumped over the lazy dog. Go go go." He said, with a smile. "Is that your kill phrase or something?"

I leaned over and flicked his head.

“Ah! That hurt.”

“I’m not a sleeper agent, you parasite. I just don’t feel like myself. It’s just that since I’ve been back here since all of this began, I just… Everything just feels wrong.” I collapsed back into my chair. “I feel like maybe I’m starting to become like them?”

“Them? You can’t be serious, right?” I nodded.

He shook his head. “Then you must be crazy because you aren’t anything like them. I’d know. It’s not like I’d stick around if I thought that you were. Whatever’s wrong with you—if there’s anything wrong with you—it ain’t whatever’s happening out there. When would you have gotten sick anyway?”

“My dad thinks that it might be in the water, or the air or something,” I mumbled.

Maybe he's right? Maybe I'm not infected like them, and maybe all these thoughts, those almost actions, maybe they're just me. Am I really just going crazy then?

“That’s not it.” He said definitively.

“How can you be sure?”

“Because I… I saw it. First hand. I know what it looks like. I know the symptoms. And you don’t have it.”

“The symptoms? You said that you didn’t know!”

“And I lied to you!”

“Why?” I asked.

“Why? Yeah, why wouldn’t I want to relive some of the worst weeks of my fucking life? I wonder.”

“Weeks?” There was no way that this has been going on for weeks. This sort of thing? Alaska would have known about it long before I even got here if that was the case. “That’s impossible. I’ve seen them change. It takes hours, not weeks.”

"It wasn't quick at first.” As he spoke, it looked like the emotion of the memories were starting to get to him.

“At first?” A part of me was unwilling to press him, but at the same time, there was that same feeling, that need to know. “Did you know them well?" The question I really wanted to ask was whether or not they were addicts or not, but I knew better than that.

Kelly nodded slowly. His eyes still, empty.

“Oh god, Kelly, I’m so sorry,” I said, standing up. In my haste, my cannula came loose, but I ignored it. By the time I made it to him, tears had begun streaming down his face. I brought him into my arms, his sobs muffled as I pressed his head into my stomach. “I’m so sorry.” But I knew the right words to say weren’t there. Because the reality was, there was nothing that I could say that would make this right.

It took a long time, but eventually he finally stopped crying. Not much longer after that we created a bed out of clothes and laid down for the night. There was no way we could continue on for tonight. Not like this.

May 22, 2019 - O2 Remaining: 111 Hours / 4.63 Days - 1:24 AM