Page 48 of All Your Days
Dawn breaks on thehorizon but the sun is not a welcome sight. Light reflects off the clouds rolling in from the west. Taller than the hills we passed only two days ago, red and angry, I can feel them coming in my blood.
For the first time in more years than I can remember, the red rains are here.
“Jacob!” I hiss, shaking him violently. We’re plastered together between the emergency sheets, his long black gun still resting on our thighs. He’s not asleep, just… well, he’s not resting either. Neither of us have managed that. I think his body just shut down.
He comes to with a jerk, elbowing me hard in the ribs.
“Shit. Sorry.”
“It’s fine. It doesn’t matter.Look.” I point to the clouds swallowing up the sky. They seem to be sucking all the light from the sun.
“Oh no. No.No, no, no, no.” Jacob repeats his denial, scrambling to his feet. He runs his hand through the tangled mess of his hair and scrubs furiously up at his brow.
I wish I knew what to do to help. Just like last night I’m completely useless here. Worse than useless—I’m a dead weight that could see him just as dead as the others.
Bile rises in my throat as my panicked thoughts bring up flashes from last night. The world shifts underneath me, like it’s just falling away.
Just as I’m about to lose my shit completely, Jacob squats down, refolding the first blanket into its tiny pouch.
“We need to go back to camp.” He mutters, yanking me back from my panic.
“Is that safe?”
My terror is still right there, threatening to completely undo me, but I know that’s not going to do us any good. So I follow Jacob’s lead. I couldn’t feel the pain in my legs last night, but I can now. They protest loudly when I roll to my knees to try and fold the second sheet. I do a shit job of it, my hands are shaking too much.
“I don’t know. But being out here with no food or water is a death sentence.” He mutters, snatching the blanket out of my hands and efficiently refolding it.
“How do we even get back?”
Without stopping the efficient way he’s packing us up, Jacob points off to the north. The fire from our camp stove still burns in the distance, smoke curling into the sky. It’s a decent walk; we ran further than I realised. I guess in the dark, we had no way of really taking notice.
My mouth is painfully dry, my feet are bleeding in my boots, and my stomach feels like it’s going to eat itself in hunger. I don’t complain, though. Neither of us say a word as we make our way back to whatever is waiting for us, but I know Jacob is suffering, too.
We’re both carriers. The red rains are calling to us both, making the sickness that infests our bodies vibrate.
This is the last fucking thing we need. Last night was too close a call. I’ve been around the zombified before, but I’ve never had one chasing me like that. Never had one after my blood. And Ryan… he… Oh fuck. I can’t even think about what happened to our team.
I slam the mental door shut on last night and refocus on the new shit creek we’ve found ourselves up with the Rains.
Jacob’s jaw is tight, and I don’t know if the frown is ever gonna leave his face after today. Is he as scared as I am? It’s been so long since I had to suffer through the Red Rain. Is that why Cale turned? What if Jacob turns? I could never hurt him, even like that. And I couldn’t survive without him out here. I would die in less than a day.
But what if I turn? What if I hurt him? What if he has to take me out? It would destroy whatever’s left of him, I know it.
Jacob’s face is hard as stone, eyes focused only on the smoke coming from our camp. Lips pursed, his growing beard dances with each flex of his cheek.
My stomach clenches with a different sort of pain.
I would rather die now than hurt him.
We just need to survive the Rains. Together.
Each step closer to our destination only makes my dark thoughts spiral further. The closer we get, the more the mirage of camp becomes clear. Real. The white of our tents, the water tank. Our trailer.
The bodies of Cale and Ryan.
The smell is overwhelming. The close range of the rifle removed all traces of what Cale became. Ryan is draped across him. From the back it is nearly impossible to tell what happened, the tear in his throat barely visible. Their blood pools beneath them, mixed in their final moments.
Turning from the gory sight, bile rises uselessly in my throat. There is nothing to vomit so I just gag and spit into the dirt.
