Page 61 of Dating After the End of the World
“You’re gonna be okay, Blake,” I say, wrapping his forearm with a roll of bandage.
He’s still in shock, and I need to pull him out of it—otherwise, we’re not going to make it out of here alive. I need him to be present, to be with me. I tear the dressing with my teeth, toss the roll aside, and push his sleeve down. After returning the first aid supplies to his bag, I reclose it. A low growl comes from somewhere in the hospital, followed by shuffling feet. My heart pounds against my tightening rib cage. We have to get out of here. All the noise and commotion attracted more of them—and who knows how many more that actually is?
“Blake,” I say in a strained whisper, snapping my fingers in front of his face several times to no response. “Blake, come on!” I grip his shoulder and shake it as hard as I can.
My patience is worn thin due to what sounds like a horde of biters heading our way. Their raspy growls start to fill the hall right outside this room.Bang. Bang. Bang.A series of gunshots fire off in the distance. They sound like they’re coming from another floor or outside the hospital. JJ and Greg must be in deep shit too.Damn it, Blake!Without thinking, I raise my hand and swing, cracking him right across the face. Surprisingly, it fails to pull him out of his shocked state.
I need to get him to snap out of this. My hands fly to the back of his neck, and I pull him into me. Standing on my tippy-toes, I close my eyes and press my lips to his, passionately moving them, kissing him to hopefully bring him back to me. At first his lips are cold, but then they start to warm against mine, pulsating as though his heart has begun to beat through them. I draw my head back and look up at him, hoping he’s here with me again.
Blake blinks several times and then winces, gripping his bandaged arm. “Ahh,” he groans.
My hands cup the sides of his face, forcing him to look me in the eye, so he’ll hear me. “Blake, we have to get out of here.”
He tries to shake his head. “Just go without me.”
“No, I’m not leaving you.”
“I deserve to be left behind,” he says, defeated.
The grunts and groans grow louder. My pulse races and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up straight. They’re getting closer, and if we don’t get out of here, we’ll be cornered in this room.
I press my lips against his, this time with more force, giving him enough to want more, to come with me, to fight. “Let’s go!” I say, staring into his eyes. “Together.”
His face flushes, like he’s conflicted on whether to stay or to go with me. I don’t have time for this, so I clutch his lacerated forearm and squeeze until he cries out in pain—and then I yank him as I take off out of the hospital room and into the hall. To the right, the way we came in, there are dozens of decaying biters staggering in our direction, snarling and snapping their jaws. Only fifteen yards separate them from us.Fuck.
I swivel my head in the other direction, spotting an elevator at the end of the hall. With the hospital running only on backup generators, there’s no way it works. I glance back at the horde of rotting creatures closing in on us, realizing I don’t have a choice.
“Come on,” I say to Blake, pulling him with me.
We sprint down the hall toward the elevator, zigzagging to avoid tipped-over hospital beds, putrefied corpses, and random debris scattered about. I leap over a severed torso that’s been gutted and ripped apart.
At the elevator, I unsheathe my knife and jab it into the crack where the doors meet. “Blake, help me.”
He grips the handle of the knife and twists it, creating a gap big enough for me to slip my hands through and start to try to force it open. Blake uses the weight of his body to crank one door back in its slot. Returning my knife to its sheath, I peer into the elevator shaft.
“Oh good, it’s on the first floor,” I say as Blake forces the other door all the way open.
“How are we going to get down?” He furrows his brow. “We could break a leg jumping two stories.”
He’s right. But we don’t have any other option. The biters are gaining on us, and they seem to be moving faster than usual. Perhaps the thought of actually having a fresh meal rather than cannibalizing one another has motivated them. Blake appears both confused and shocked, like he’s still grappling with the bite while also trying to work out how it happened. My gaze goes to his belt, followed by my hands, swiftly undoing it.
“What are you doing?”
I don’t have time to explain, so I just keep moving, slipping the belt from the loops of his jeans. With the buckle clutched in my hand, I lasso it toward the elevator cable; with a flick of my wrist, it curves around it and returns to me. Catching the other end midair, I thread it through the buckle and pull it tight, ensuring it’ll hold.
“Here,” I say, handing it to him. “Go.”
He shakes his head. “No, you go first.”
“It’s gotta be you, Blake.”
I slip my backpack off and remove my shirt, sliding it up over my head.
He swallows hard, his eyes lingering on my cleavage and exposed midriff.
“Blake, focus,” I say.
He quickly snaps his attention to my face.
