Chapter Fifteen

A weight presses down on my chest, making it hard for me to breathe. My eyes feel thick and heavy, and it takes all I have to force them open. When I look down I find a leather strap across my chest, anchoring me to the cool, metal table beneath me. My whole body is tied down, unable to move. I try to struggle, but my limbs feel like dead weight, and every movement is like trying to swim through molasses.

I have no idea how I got here, or why I’m strapped to the table, and my mind goes into overdrive, creating dark scenario after scenario. As I start to panic, the blood rushes between my ears, creating a dull roar that nearly drowns out everything else. My heart hammers away in my chest, each beat so hard I’m afraid it’ll break through my ribcage and the skin. Each breath I take sounds like a dying gasp as I struggle to control myself. Slowly but surely, the room comes into clearer focus, and my breathing mellows out as the roar in my ears dies down.

I’m alone in this room, and the loneliness is nearly suffocating. I can hear buzzing from the lights above me, whirring from the computer on the desk to my left, and even water dripping from the sink faucet behind me, though I can’t see it with my body strapped down. The sounds are so loud in the otherwise totally silent room, bearing down on me and making my head hurt. Each droplet of water in the sink makes me flinch, and I start to struggle again, desperate to silence this room before it drives me crazy.

I hear the door slide open, and I look down past my feet. Dr. Richards stands in the open doorway, wearing his white lab coat as always, along with his thick-rimmed glasses and ever present notepad. He doesn’t say anything as the door slides shut behind him. He just sets the notepad down on the counter and heads to the sink behind me to wash his hands. I hear the sink start and hear the splashes, and when he turns the knob, the droplets continue as they did before.

He returns to the counter and grabs a pair of disposable gloves from a box. They make a snapping sound as he settles them into place on his hands, and I can hear the sound of plastic rubbing together as he flexes them excitedly. He’s fidgeting like he can’t wait to get his hands on me, and my mind flashes back to the poor woman on the tapes and the awful things he did to her. She was strapped to this very table…

Dr. Richards reaches out for me, and I cringe, trying to pull as far away from his touch as I can get. But the straps halt my escape, and Dr. Richards’ fingertips gently brush the hair back from my face. He looks down at me with a strange tenderness I would never have expected from a man as cold and distant as him, almost like he cares for me.

My mouth is paper dry, and I can’t get my lips to move. My throat screams in agony as I try to force anything to come out, but all I can manage is a tiny whimper. Dr. Richards smiles at me. “You’re awake! I’m glad. I was starting to wonder if you would be out the whole time, and that’s certainly no fun.”

What was he talking about? What did he think I would be out for?

There’s a small mobile tray that he moves closer to the table, and I catch a glimpse of shiny metal. I try to scream, but my throat still isn’t working, and even if he could hear me, I know he won’t care. But I can’t give up without a fight. As he examines the various tools on his tray, I buck as hard as I can, trying to break or dislodge the straps. Dr. Richards ignores my feeble attempts to escape and I begin to lose hope. It’s clear I’m too weak to break leather straps, and even if I managed, I’m not sure where I’d run.

I’m naked from head to toe, and I don’t know where my clothes are, where my weapons are, or where any of my friends are. As far as I know, I’m alone and naked and vulnerable. I’m at the mercy of Dr. Richards, and unfortunately for me, mercy is one thing he isn’t capable of…

Dr. Richards grabs a tool off the metal tray and I strain my neck trying to see what it is. When I see the harsh artificial light glint off the razor blade of a small scalpel, my stomach drops to my feet and I feel like I’m going to be sick. He grips it tightly, his fingers curling around the handle as he slices the air, adjusting his grip when he needs to. As I watch, my stomach begins to twist painfully. I try to even out my breathing, but my breaths come in short gasps, and I can’t seem to get enough air to my lungs, making me feel dizzy and a little lightheaded.

Dr. Richards advances on me. The scalpel is touching my stomach, lighter than a lover’s kiss. The cold steel makes me shiver, and Dr. Richards smiles, finding joy in his experiments where the world around him causes him disappointment. “This will only hurt for a minute,” he promises.

The blade bites into my skin, tearing easily through skin and fat. As he opens my stomach, I crane my neck and scream…

I wake up in bed, echoing the scream from my nightmare. Ryder jerks, startled awake by my cries, and he sits bolt upright. Instantly his hand goes for his weapon, until he realizes that we’re alone in the room. It takes me a second to stop screaming, and when the room is finally silent, I stare in wide eyed terror at the wall at the foot of the bed, just so I don’t have to see Ryder’s terrified reaction to my screams.

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, and the two of us sit in silence while I get my breathing back under control. I’ve had vicious night terrors before, and Ryder is used to hearing me wake up crying in the middle of the night, sweating and gasping for air, but this is the first time that I’ve actually woken up screaming in a very long time, and I know that he’s freaked out and concerned.

He pulls me close, wrapping his arms around me and encasing me in his warmth. I can feel the harsh beating of his heart through his chest, and together, our hearts and breathing slow until they’re back to normal. When I’m finally okay to talk, he lets go of me and looks down. “Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks, eyes searching mine in the darkness.

“I was tied down to that metal table and Dr. Richards was coming at me with a scalpel. He used it to cut into my stomach, and I could feel his hands moving around inside of me, searching for something or maybe just playing around for fun. It all felt so real,” I say, trying not to shiver in his arms. “I swear I could actually feel the blade cut through my skin, and when I screamed in the dream, I guess I screamed in real life, too.”

I look over at him to find him watching me intently, and I hope he’s not wondering if I’m going crazy.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” I say quietly, looking down at my hands.

“It’s okay. People have nightmares, Sam. It’s not that big of a deal.” He hesitates. “Do you wanna try and go back to sleep?”

“No,” I say instantly. “I don’t think I can handle it. But you should get some more shut eye if you can. I’ll go sit on the couch and try to calm down some more.”

Ryder wraps his arms tighter around me and pulls me down until I’m lying on his chest. He pulls the blankets up, draping them over my shoulders until they’re covering both of us. “I don’t want you to have to sit out there by yourself. It’s already five in the morning; I’m not getting back to sleep anytime soon. Stay here and I’ll keep you safe.”

I curl up against him, letting myself relax a little more. Ryder is warm and familiar, and I never feel safer than when I’m in his arms. “Thank you,” I say, burying my face in his chest.

“Don’t worry about it. Just try to relax and get some more rest.”

I close my eyes, trying to do as he says. I know I won’t get back to sleep, but he might be able to, and I want him to be able to get as much rest as he can before we’re forced to leave this place. I know that when we’re back out on the open road again, Ryder will make sure to take care of all of us before taking care of himself. Ryder’s breathing starts to slow beneath me, and I listen to his quiet breathing as he slowly nods off again.

“I love you,” I say, my voice lower than a whisper. Ryder shifts beneath me and I can feel him smile.

*****

A couple of hours later, Dr. Richards invites us to join him in the lab to check on the progress of the zombie test subject. We all gather in the kitchen to make a hasty breakfast. We can hardly contain ourselves. We’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, before we even knew there was a possibility of a cure. And now we finally get to see the fruits of our labor. I just hope we’re not disappointed.

We find Dr. Richards in his lab, and my eyes go to the patient the second I enter the room. His skin has already started to regain some of its pink coloring, making him look less like a rotting corpse and more like an actual person. He’s naked from head to toe, and his body is covered in cuts and bite marks. Blood leaks from them all, but it’s not the thick, congealed blood that we’re used to seeing from zombies. Instead, it’s lighter and thin, and it flows from the wound.

“His heart has started beating again,” Dr. Richards says triumphantly. “The serum is making its way through his blood, returning it to normal as it wipes out the infection. I have very high hopes for the outcome of this experiment. We may very well have the answer to our problems, even sooner than expected.”

It hasn’t even been a full twenty-four hours yet, and we’re already making progress. There’s hope for the human race yet. But, I’m not sure if this cure will do only good. I hate to bring Dr. Richards down when he’s basking in his accomplishment, but I have to ask, and I have to ask now.

“What happens to the zombies that are missing limbs? What about the ones that have been lying in the sun until they’re a melted puddle? Or the ones submerged in liquid until they’re a bloated, gelatinous mass? Do they just get to come back from this like nothing happened? Or are they going to die an even more horrible death than they did the first time around? How much suffering are we going to cause with this?”

“I don’t know,” Dr. Richards admits. “I’ve been theorizing about the effects on those too far gone, but until we test it, there’s no way to no for sure. Perhaps the serum will heal them; perhaps it will just turn them human and let them die again. As long as they don’t reanimate craving flesh, I’m fine with however this turns out.”

“Of course you are,” Aaron mutters.

Dr. Richards narrows his eyes. “I don’t think you understand the magnitude of our situation. The world is gone. It is not coming back, not in its current condition. More than ninety percent of the world’s population has been decimated. Even if every zombie returns to normal, we’ll still be at a fraction of the population we had before. So many of them have been put down by the military, by other survivors, or have been eaten before they had a chance to reanimate.”

“How much do you think is left now?” Naomi asks.

He doesn’t even look at her, and I remember his racist comment about sand brats. “I don’t have the exact numbers. But based on my observations, I would say we’re hovering at around five percent, maybe a little more or less.”

Ninety-five percent of the world…just gone. Men, women, and even children…all lost forever. He’s right, too. Not all of the people lost can come back. How many people were swarmed in the cities until there was nothing to even reanimate? How many have we put down with a bullet to the head? Probably hundreds. And that’s just our little group. There are thousands of other survivors out there that have probably killed just as many, if not more than us.

“So you’re gonna need a decomposing one to test your serum on too, aren’t you?” Madison asks.

Dr. Richards nods. “That would be ideal. I’d like to test the effects on complete ones and incomplete ones as well. It’s for—”

“Science, we know,” Ryder says, narrowing his eyes. “You’re saying you want us to go out and find one that’ll just bleed to death as soon as we heal them.”

“Ryder, if that is what’ll happen to them, they’re all gonna die anyways when we perfect the cure,” Madison says gently. “At least this way, we’ll know for sure what will happen to them. And who knows, maybe they do heal and we’ll end up saving another person.”

“We can worry about that at another time,” Dr. Richards says, waving his hand. “For now, the main focus should be on those we know for sure we can save. I’ll require another specimen, preferably a female this time. I’d like to see if there are any differences between the sexes.”

“Why would there be?” Reese asks, frowning.

Dr. Richards doesn’t answer. His nose is buried in his notes once again, but I know he can hear us. He’s choosing to ignore us, and it’s probably because he doesn’t want to answer Reese’s question. I know why he doesn’t, too. Dr. Richards is a creep, and he enjoyed torturing that poor woman—his second human subject. He’s practically leaping for joy at the chance to test on another woman. My mind flashes back to my nightmare from earlier and it takes everything in me not to shudder in front of Dr. Richards.

Do we dare cross him though? Is it better to just give him what he wants? He’s a sadistic, racist creep, but he’s our only chance to right the world. If we say no, he may decide to do it without us, or he may just try to drag his feet, or intentionally mess up. He’s happy here with his notes and his new test subject. And he knows how important he is.

Apparently Ryder is thinking the same thing because he says, “When do you want her?”

“Immediately. I will head for the control room and open the gate for you. It doesn’t matter to me which of you goes and which of you stays. Do it however you see fit, just make sure she’s in good shape, and bring her back here to join the male subject.”

Reese frowns at the words “good shape”, but none of us argues with his orders. We look at one another, and Ryder is the first to speak. “Who wants to go and who wants to stay?”

“I think we should do it,” I say. “Aaron, Todd, and Madison did it last time. They shouldn’t have to go out there again. You, me, Reese, and Naomi are capable of handling this, I think. That leaves a strong group outside and a strong group inside to watch over Dr. Richards and make sure he doesn’t lock us out.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Madison says. “As long as you guys are all okay with it?” She looks at Ryder, Reese, and Naomi and finds no objections.

Naomi looks a little uncertain, but she doesn’t back out. She gives me a nervous smile, but she has nothing to be nervous about. She knows that Ryder and Reese are going to be with us, and they’ll never let anything happen to anyone in our group. They’ve got near perfect aim, and they have the training and senses to spot danger coming a mile away. This collection is going to be a piece of cake, just like it was for Madison’s group.

Ryder leads the way to the front door, and Madison and her group split off to join Dr. Richards in the control room to supervise the collection. We wait for Dr. Richards to open the gate, and I nearly shiver. There’s a fresh layer of fallen snow on the ground that crunches under my boots, and I pull my coat tighter around myself, trying to stay warm. I hope my gloves don’t interfere with my ability to pull the trigger of my weapon, but I can’t leave them off and risk letting my fingers go numb and totally unresponsive.

While we wait for the gate to open, we all do a quick check of our weapons while Ryder ascertains the situation outside the gate. Unfortunately, things look like they won’t be as easy for us as they were for Madison’s group after all. There are no zombies milling around the fence like the other day, meaning we’ll have to go into the trees and away from the safety of the laboratory to find one. But Dr. Richards needs his new test subject now, and that means we can’t wait for one to come stumbling by.

When the gate creaks open, we rush out in a tight group. Ryder takes the lead as usual, and Reese hangs towards the back, keeping a watch on our backs so nothing can sneak up behind us. I stick close to Naomi in case she needs any help, but she seems to have fully recovered from her ordeal in the river, and she looks determined and fierce. She easily keeps pace with Ryder as we head into the trees.

The area darkens as the trees swallow us, refusing to let much light touch the ground. We slow our pace and bring our weapons up, looking for any sign of a suitable female test subject. The woods are deserted though, and the only movement comes from our group as we make our way further and further from the laboratory. Already the gate is long gone and out of our line of sight, and I begin to feel nervous about heading this far away from the lab. Ryder shows no signs of slowing or stopping though, so I keep my mouth shut.

The woods are eerily silent, and I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck begin to raise as goose bumps dot my arms. After being in the warmth and safety of the lab, being outside in the cold is like a shock of freezing water to the face. It’s enough to disorient me, and it almost feels like a dream. Everything moves so slowly, and my senses feel more heightened, like something is about to happen and my body is preparing itself for it.

Ryder raises his hand, motioning for us all to stop in our tracks. We brace ourselves, waiting for any sign of movement that doesn’t belong to us. I listen to the woods around us, and hear crunching coming from our left, just past a row of trees. Ryder motions with his hands and Reese ducks away to scout out the area while we hold down the fort. Minutes pass by in near total silence, and when Reese returns, he looks calm and easy.

“Single roamer. Missing an arm so it was no good to us. I took it out with my knife. Nothing else in the area, for once.”

Ryder nods, and we continue on our trek through the woods. I’m beginning to worry that we won’t find any zombies until we hit the river, and by then we’ll be so far away from the lab that we’ll be in danger if something goes wrong. But this needs to be done, and I know that even if I voice my concerns, it won’t matter. Ryder won’t want to go back, and honestly, neither will I even though being so far away scares me. We both know how important this is and we won’t let our fears get the better of us.

We walk for another few minutes, and I realize that we’re probably way beyond the reach of the lab’s cameras. If something does go wrong, they won’t know it, and they won’t be able to offer us any help either. We’re completely on our own out here in the cold wilderness, actively searching for a zombie to catch and bring back to the lab. It sounds so crazy that I almost laugh, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop once I start. So I keep my lips sealed and focus on Ryder’s back in front of me.

We hear movement in front of us, and Ryder lifts two fingers—a sign he taught us before Madison and her group joined us. Instantly we split off into two teams, me with Reese and Ryder with Naomi. We head off into the trees, coming up and around the zombies ahead of us so we can annihilate them from both sides. I step closer to Reese, raising my gun a little more. We reach the edge of the trees, and find a small pack of zombies. There are a dozen or so, and we quietly hang back and look them over, trying to decide which one will please Dr. Richards the most.

I see a few with missing limbs that I rule out right away, as well as a woman missing an eye, along with the rest of the left side of her face. But behind her, there’s a female zombie with short hair, bright green eyes, and a slim build. She looks disturbingly young, like she’s barely a teenager.

The only thing wrong with her that I can see are two missing fingers on her right hand, but that’s a pretty minor thing compared to many of the other injured zombies around her. I point her out to Ryder, and he nods, having come to the same conclusion as I did. A quick count reveals ten other zombies surrounding her, and only four of us. These odds aren’t terrible—we’ve had worse in the past for sure—but we can never be too careful. But both Ryder and Reese being such good shots eases my worries enough to click off the safety of my weapon when Ryder gives the signal.

I see Naomi set the pole against a nearby tree, freeing both hands to steady her gun. When everyone is ready, Ryder nods. His first shot takes out the eye of the woman with the missing face, and she drops to the ground, taking another zombie with her. While it slowly gets back up, I take aim at the one nearest to me, and squeeze the trigger. My hand jerks with the force of the shot, and a man crumples to the ground, quiet and unmoving.

Reese expertly takes out two in rapid succession, proving once again that he’s an amazing sniper. Naomi and I follow him up. She takes down a hulking man that lumbers towards her, and it drops to the snow at her feet. My next shot grazes the scalp of my target, but the second shot lodges in his forehead, and he sways before collapsing. Ryder takes out another, his aim dead on. Reese puts a bullet between the eyes of a woman, and Naomi gets another at close range, blowing out part of his skull.

We all head for the girl zombie, and Ryder takes out the last one in our way, bashing him in the nose with the butt of his gun. It drops to the ground, and he stomps its head with his thick, heavy boots. On the third kick, the head pops and the brains gush out beneath his boots. Now the girl zombie is the only one left, and Naomi quickly grabs the pole while we try to figure out the best way to go about this.

I’ve handled young zombies in the past, and as much as it bothers me, there’s always a small part of me that’s secretly glad for them because they’re even smaller than me sometimes, and they’re not as much of a threat. They don’t have the same brute force that the larger ones do, and that will make her easier to deal with now. Ryder or Reese could hold her at arm’s length like in a cartoon, and all she could do is swing her arms and try to reach them.

Naomi joins us with the pole. Her eyes are wide and she’s breathing a little fast. “How are we going to do this? Is someone gonna act as bait and draw her attention while I sneak up from behind?”

Reese looks at her. “I can do the snagging if you want,” he offers.

Naomi thrusts the pole at him so quickly it catches him off guard and he fumbles the pole. He traps it between his legs before it hits the ground while we try not to laugh, and Naomi grins sheepishly. “Thanks. I really didn’t wanna be the one to do it…”

“I understand,” Reese says. He grips the pole tightly and nods to me. “Sam, get in front of her and clap your hands or something. Anything that will get her attention. Blood would work best, but that’s not gonna work. Your scratches are mostly healed, and none of us are injured. So noise will have to do.”

I nod. “If you’re happy and you know it…”

Naomi smiles. “Be careful, Sam.”

“I will,” I say, smiling back. “We’ve got this.”

I hope I sound more confident than I feel. My knees are weak and my mouth has gone paper dry at the thought of offering myself up as bait, but I know that with the others here, I’m in no real danger. So I take my spot across from the others, click on the safety of my gun, and slide it into the holster on my thigh. When Ryder gives me the signal, I bring my hands together, clapping as loudly as I can.

Even though there is three of her prey in front of her, they’re silent and unmoving. When she hears me making noise behind her, she turns slowly, facing me and advancing steadily. Her movements are more fluid than a lot of zombies we’ve faced, which means she probably hasn’t been a zombie for too long. Her skin is a deathly shade of white, but it’s still clear and in one piece. She’s not rotting yet, which makes her an even better candidate, despite her two missing fingers.

I slowly clap, keeping her attention focused solely on me. With her back turned to them, Reese finally moves. Ryder has his weapon aimed directly at her head in case something does go wrong, but I’m confident that everything will go smoothly. She’s a young girl, and Reese is a grown man with a tool that will keep her further than arm’s length away from us at all times. I feel safer knowing that he’ll be the one in charge of guiding the zombie girl back to the lab, even if it means we won’t have him to act as a lookout for the trip back.

Reese comes up behind the zombie girl, his hands twisting the pole nervously. I keep clapping, trying to force her attention to stay on me. She gets closer to me, and just as she’s about to reach out for me, Reese loops the wire around her neck and pulls it tight. If she were human, she’d be choking and out like a light in a few minutes, but since she doesn’t need air to function, all it does it help us anchor her in place and keep her from biting at any of us. I relax as Reese forces her to the ground easily.

We all take a quick second to catch our breath and settle our nerves, but all too soon Ryder is motioning for us to get ready to head back. “We fired off enough shots to draw some more zombies to this area. I want us all safely back to the lab before they arrive. Just because the woods were empty on the way here doesn’t mean they’ll stay that way for long. Now let’s get going.”

Reese forces the zombie girl back to her feet, and he steers her towards the way we came. He accidentally walks her right into a tree, and he winces. “Oops. Sorry about that.”

Naomi gives Reese a disapproving look. “I know you did not just apologize to a zombie.”

His cheeks turn redder than the cold has already made them. “Well, she might be human again in a little bit. I don’t want her to think I’m a jerk.”

I almost laugh, but Ryder motions for us to start moving. Reese takes the lead, guiding her back to the lab, careful to avoid slamming her into any more trees. Dr. Richards won’t be happy if his new test subject comes back with a busted face or a broken skull. Ryder walks a ways behind us, trying to keep watch for any sign of movement. But as we head back to the lab, it becomes apparent that the only sounds we’re able to hear are coming from our captive zombie. She groans loudly non-stop and her movements are so clumsy and noisy that it’s impossible to hear around us.

We’re practically sitting ducks out here…I think to myself. I almost say it out loud, but Naomi looks visibly shaken as she walks along beside me, and I don’t want to scare her anymore than she already is. I know exactly how she’s feeling right now, because I’m feeling it, too. This walk back almost makes me feel like a blind man running through the woods. I have no guidance and no sense of my surroundings.

“Sam?” Naomi asks quietly.

“Yeah?”

“I—I’m glad we came here. Even if Dr. Richards is a bit of a creep, I’m glad we took the risks we have. I want the world to change, for us, and for my brothers. The thought that I may get to see any of my loved ones again some day is enough to keep me going, even when I’m scared. And if it weren’t for you pushing so hard for this cure, I might not have ever gotten this chance.”

I put my arm around her, pulling her closer. Naomi and I have been through a lot together. We survived Frank’s tents, we survived the journey to our cabin in the woods, and we survived this search for the cure. We’ve gotten on each others nerves in the past for sure, but we share an unbreakable bond that I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world. Even though she’s a couple of years younger than me, I feel a connection with her, and I know she feels the same way.

“Everything is gonna be alright,” I tell her.

Naomi opens her mouth to answer and screams as a pair of blood-covered hands latch onto her, pulling her away from me. Broken, jagged teeth sink into her shoulder before I can even bring my weapon up, tearing easily through her flesh. She screams again, and I grab her hand and get close, putting my gun against the zombie’s face. I pull the trigger and the back of his head explodes out, showering a nearby tree with blood and bits of brain. Naomi crumples to the ground, her shoulder bleeding profusely. Already, her coat is soaked, and it shows no signs of stopping.

Ryder and Reese stare at us in stunned silence. I never saw it coming, and they didn’t either. That zombie just came out of nowhere and pulled Naomi away before any of us could react. But once it stops moving, the spell is broken, and I holster my weapon and kneel to the ground beside her, moving her coat aside to look at the wound. Ryder joins us while Reese grapples with the zombie girl, who is struggling wildly now that she’s got the scent of blood, looking on from a safe distance.

Naomi’s hand is pressed against her shoulder, trying to staunch the flow of blood. But I can see it seeping through her fingers, dripping down her hand to stain the snow below her. “Let me see it!” I scream, pulling her hand away. I’m too terrified to be sensitive or calm right now.

She’s crying so hard I’m surprised she can breathe, and when I see the wound in her neck, the air gets driven from my lungs like I just got punched in the chest. There’s a jagged chunk of flesh missing from the skin between her shoulder and neck. It’s deep, and it doesn’t look like it’s going to stop bleeding any time soon. I disentangle her hand from mine and force it to her neck. “Keep pressure on it. We’ll get you help when we get back to the lab.”

“We have to go, now!” Ryder says, bringing up his weapon.

I look over my shoulder, and my heart stops as a pack of zombies comes out of the trees behind us. I can hear more off in the trees, but they’ll be here soon enough, and we won’t be able to fight them all, especially with Naomi in such poor shape. She’s of no use in a fight, and she’ll be dead weight all the way back to the lab, but we’re going to be fine. I grab her free hand and haul her to her feet, forcing her to lean on me for support. I take my gun out of its holster with my free hand and click off the safety, though I’m not sure how good my aim will be while I’m half-carrying and half-dragging Naomi.

Ryder shoves us forward harshly, and Naomi nearly stumbles to the ground. Her free hand is still pressed to her neck, but it’s not doing much good and I can already tell that she’s losing a dangerous amount of blood. Her face is rapidly losing its natural brown coloring, and she puts more and more of her weight on my shoulders with each step. But we’re making progress, slowly but surely. I can hear Ryder behind us firing off shots, taking a few seconds to reload when necessary, but I don’t dare look back.

If I do, I’ll lose my grip on Naomi. So even though I’m terrified for Ryder’s safety, my focus has to be on Naomi. Ryder can take care of himself—he’s proven it time and time again and now isn’t the time to start doubting him. So I heave Naomi higher on my shoulder and force her to keep going, even though my back and my legs are screaming at me from the added weight. This is just like one of my most recurring nightmares, the one where I’m trying to drag someone to safety but I’m too weak to do it. Usually it’s Ryder, and I never thought for one second that it would be Naomi.

We follow Reese as closely as we can while he forces the zombie girl forward. Naomi says something, but her voice is so soft I can’t hear it over the sound of the gunshots behind me. I lean my head closer to hers, trying to hear what she’s saying. Her voice is so soft it’s like a gentle breeze, but I make out her words this time.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

“Don’t be,” I say, pausing to lift her higher on my shoulder again. She keeps slipping down further and further as my arms weaken. “We’re gonna get you back to the lab, and Dr. Richards will fix you up until he can perfect the cure.”

She gasps for air, her lungs making a horribly wet rattling sound, and I’m afraid she’s about to start coughing up blood. “I’m not gonna make it…”

“Don’t say that!” I snap. “You’re gonna be fine. I promise.” My voice breaks.

She looks up at me with half closed eyes. “I’m sorry,” she says again.

She slips from my grasp and drops to the ground. I grab a fistful of her coat, trying to haul her back to her feet, but she’s entirely dead weight, and I’m not strong enough. “Ryder!” I scream. Tears burn at the backs of my eyes and cloud my vision, but I can see him running to me. I manage to get Naomi on her feet, but she sways dangerously, and I grab her hand and put my arm around her waist to steady her, expecting Ryder to take her other side. “Help me carry her!”

A zombie grabs her coat and pulls her closer. I plant my feet on the ground and pull, refusing to let her go without a fight. I’m losing ground, and there are several more zombies coming for her. There’s so much blood in these woods that even I can smell it, and I’m not a predator like them. They’re being drawn to Naomi like bugs to a porch light, and I can’t fight them all off. There’s too many of them, and not enough of us. The zombie holding onto Naomi’s coat leans forward and sinks his teeth into her throat, silencing Naomi’s whimpers. I scream and pull harder, refusing to let go of her.

Dr. Richards can save her. She’ll be fine; we just have to get her back and everything will be alright, just like I promised…

Ryder rushes to my side, whipping a zombie in the head with his weapon and sending it crashing to the ground. Instead of helping me, his arm slips around my waist, and he lifts me off the ground. I cling to Naomi with everything I have, but I can feel her being pulled away from me as more zombies latch on to her. Naomi’s hand slides from my grasp, and it falls limply to the ground. I fight Ryder tooth and nail, struggling and beating on him, but he carries me effortlessly away from Naomi kicking and screaming.

I’m helpless, and forced to watch as she’s torn to pieces by the pack of zombies. They swarm over her, tearing away at her clothing to get to the warm flesh beneath. Blood spurts through the air, staining the snow of a nearby tree as Naomi screams, finding enough life left in her only to lose it in a heartbeat. A gap in the pack opens up, and I catch one last glimpse of her blood-streaked face. Her lifeless eyes are locked on mine, and I swear I can see the accusation in them.

I close my eyes against the carnage, but I can still hear her screams echoing in my head even though they’ve long since stopped.