[Win – Forest Clearing]
The pipe in my hands is so heavy now, slicking with black gore and my own blood. Every swing is sending pain spiking up my bitten arm, but I don't stop.
I literally can't stop.
Palm is curled on the moss behind me, barely breathing, his fever turning his skin into fire. His soft "I love you too" is still ringing in my ears and it's louder than the this moans. Three Basics shamble toward us with working jaws and empty eyes.
I plant my feet, swing wide—CRACK—one skull caves and body dropps like wet cement. I'm getting too presice in killing them. Practice makes a man perfect I guess. The second lunges and I sidestep swinging pipe to its knee, it crumples but the third is faster, its claws raking my shoulder, tearing fabric from my shirt. I shove it back with hammering heart and hot blood on my skin.
Palm groans behind me, he's weak and barely audible.
"Win…"
I glance back for just a second. That second is too long. The third zombie is already rising with bared teeth.
But then I see a flash of silver. A scalpel slices clean through its throat. It's black blood sprays and the body collapses. A woman steps into the clearing with scrubs torn and filthy cloths, wild hair, wife eyes with something between terror and fury. She's breathing hard and her scalpel dripping black blood. I know her instantly. She's Nurse Mali. Lin's mother.
But why is she here in this forest?
She stares at us with heaving chest.
"Win? Palm?" Her voice cracks on our names. She looks from me to Palm, then back, eyes landing on the blood soaking my sleeve.
"You're hurt," she says, already moving toward us.
I step back instinctively with my pipe still raised.
"How… how are you here?"
She doesn't answer right away. She drops to her knees beside Palm and her fingers pressess his neck, then forehead.
"He's burning," she mutters.
"His fever's too high and pulse is too weak." She looks up at me with sharp eyes despite the exhaustion carved into her face and asks,
"Where's Lin?"
The question hits like a punch. I open my mouth to answer but then close it. I don't know. She ran, luring the horde away so we could escape the roof. That's the last I saw of her. I didn't see her get bitten. I didn't see her turning. I didn't see her body. But she's gone. I feel it in my chest like a hole.
I shake my head slowly. "We got split while running from the zombies but I'm sure she's safe." I can't tell her the truth not when I myself don't know the full truth.
Her face crumples for half a second but then hardens. She doesn't cry but just nods once, and it's a tight body.
"Okay." One word. Then she's back to work, checking Palm's pupils by lifting his eyelids.
"How did you end up here?"
I ask, with my rough voice.
She answers without looking up. "The whole hospital turned, same as everything else. I ran to rescue myself and Lin and kept running. The forest was a shortcurt to school." Her voice is flat, like she's reciting facts. "I heard some fighting noise and came to help." She finally meets my eyes again. "But I didn't expect to find you two."
---
Palm groans, shifting weakly. His eyelids flutter and are unfocused. "Win…?" I drop to my knees beside him, pipe clattering. I can't loose him.
"I'm here only. I'm here with you."
I grab his hot and clammy hand. Nurse mali is already pulling supplies from her battered pack: alcohol wipe, gauze and a small flashlight.
She shines it in his eyes, frowns deeper. " His pupils are sluggish and he's septic. That gash is infected very bad." Then she glances at my arm and sees blood seeping through my sleeve.
"You're bleeding too boy."
I look down. Te bite marks are angry red, teeth are marked deep, but strangely, no black veins. No fever. Neither shaking. It just hurts a l ot. And it's starting to itch—deep, under the skin, like ants crawling inside my body. I scratch it without thinking and nurse mali notices.
"You were bitten?" I nod once with tight throat.
"Yes. During the fight earlier."
She stares, then shakes her head. " and you have no turning signs. No necrosis. No fever. Nothing?"
She looks at Palm, then back at me.
" isn't t that a bit weird."
We hear A low moan drifting from the trees, that means more are coming. How th do they know we're here? nurse mali stands fast and syas,
"We can't stay here, we need to move because They'll just keep coming." She looks around and scans the surroundings. "There's a maintenance shed half a kilometer east, it's an old park service building. It's concrete and lockable. I always rest there when I'm camping in this forest. We can get there and we can breathe." I hesitate at first, looking at Palm. He's barely conscious.
"I can carry him," I say.
Nurse mali nods.
"Then let's move."
I slide my arms under Palm—his weight is terrifying, limp, burning hot. Once we get out of here I'll ask him to loose some weight or i won't be able to pick him up when we doing some couple things. Nurse Mali covers us with scalpel in one hand and flashlight in the other. We move fast, but quiet through the trees. Moans follow us, but they're scattered. The forest is too thick, branches are clawing.
---
The shed appears through the trees its low concrete with a rusted door and a padlock hanging open. Nurse Mali kicks it wide and it's fortunately empty with just old tools, dusty shelves and a small window. She barricades the door with a metal cabinet while I lay Palm on a pile of tarps. He's shivering now and his sweat is soaking through his shirt. Nurse Mali kneels beside him again for checking his vitals.
"Still no seizure," she mutters. "But he's not getting better. He must be trying his hard to fight the virus."
I sit against the wall with pipe across my lap and throbbing arm. The itch is worse and deep, like something moving under my skin. I scratch again, harder. Nurse Mali notices it.
"Stop that," she says sharply.
"You'll make it worse."
She crosses to me, grabs my wrist and inspects the bite.
"Still no sign of spread. No fever or discoloration." She looks at me like really looks and questions,"How do you feel?"
"Like crap," I admit.
"But… normal crap. Not like zombie crap."
She exhales, shaky. " since the start of disaster I've seen bites turn people in under an hour. Palm is fighting it but is getting worse minute by minute but you, should be on the ground by now but you're not even showing a slight symptom." She glances at Palm, then back at me.
"What if your immune system is different?"
I stiffen.
"What?"
She pulls a small and sterile syringe from her pack.
"I'm not saying it's a cure but see you're not turning. Palm is. If we can get some of your blood into him…"
I stare at the syringe.
"You want to inject him with my blood?"
"It's the only thing we've got," she says, in low voice.
"He's dying, Win."
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