But Your Heart Pumps and Pounds After Death.
On a Mission.
Frank's POV
"For fuck's sake, somebody help me!" I screamed as Gerard's limp body fell against the wall. But I was too far away from where we were camping and none of the other guys could hear me.
"I'll get you out of here, buddy," I murmered with a quick kiss on Gerard's ice-cold cheek. I pulled Gerard's body into a fireman's life and tried to stand up, but it seemed that my matchstick body was no match for Gerard's chunkier figure.
"No offence, Gee, but you really should lay off the cookies," I told him. Thank God nobody was around, or they would have thought I was an absoloute headcase talking to a possibly dead or comatose person. I pushed the thoughts to the back of my head and picked Gerard up again, and strangely this time I could do it. Barely.
I stumbled in the direction that I thought the tent was, but it was so dark and the area so big it was hard to tell where I was going. I trudged around for a while, looking for some kind of map, before I tripped over something.
"Shit," I said under my breath, and tried to pick up Gerard, but my legs wouldn't move. There was something wrapped around them. They were human hands. The rest of the dead that had been bitten or shot were turning fast, and I had collided straight into one. She pulled me towards her, muttering quietly, her wide eyes unblinking. I took out my gun from the waistband of my jeans and fired one shot. It ringed out across the silent festival and eventually the girl losened her grip on my leg. Her eyes began to become clearer and clearer, until they were shining brown eyes filled with unshed tears.
I felt sick, conatminated. I had killed a 13 year old girl. I vomited over the wall next to me and held onto the railings for support. She had barely lived her life, and I had cut it off completely; even if she was undead I shouldn't have killed her. I looked back at her body and stroked her matted hair. Blood oozed out of the single bullet wound in her head and I felt ill again. I looked at Gerard's body and suddenly remembered what I had to do.
"Don't worry," I told the girl. "You won't be forgotten."
I walked back towards the main stage and caught a glimpse of the yellow tent about 200 yards away from me. I fell down and rested Gerard's head on my knee.
"Help!" I yelled. "I need help!"
Bob, Ray and Mikey came sprinting out of the tent the second they heard my voice.
"What the hell happened?" Bob asked me urgnetly. I was suddenly filled with anger and rage at them for not helping me or Gerard at anytime when we were in trouble. With or without the zombies.
"What do you think just happened you fat fuck?" I shouted at him. "He just tried to fucking kill himself!"
"Don't go shouting at Bob," Ray warned. "He hasn't done anything."
"And that's precisely the point," I said. "None of you tried to help! Not even Mikey would help his brother when he was planning his own suicide."
Mikey had been unusually quiet, but this time he hit back.
"Get the fuck out of here, Frank, you rejected Gee straight from day one! He trundled after you like some stupid fucking lovesick puppy, and you pretended not to notice."
I opened my mouth to voice some witty comeback, but my throat was dry and constricted with guilt.
"He always loved me?" I whispered.
"Always," Mikey nodded. There was an awkward silence, and everyone shuffled around awkwardly. I suddenly had an idea.
"Isn't the ambulance team still here?" I asked. The guys looked at each other and nodded.
"They could save Gerard!" I said. Mikey patted me on the back.
"Good one," he smiled. "Now let's go find them."
"Let's go save Gee," I said.
"For fuck's sake, somebody help me!" I screamed as Gerard's limp body fell against the wall. But I was too far away from where we were camping and none of the other guys could hear me.
"I'll get you out of here, buddy," I murmered with a quick kiss on Gerard's ice-cold cheek. I pulled Gerard's body into a fireman's life and tried to stand up, but it seemed that my matchstick body was no match for Gerard's chunkier figure.
"No offence, Gee, but you really should lay off the cookies," I told him. Thank God nobody was around, or they would have thought I was an absoloute headcase talking to a possibly dead or comatose person. I pushed the thoughts to the back of my head and picked Gerard up again, and strangely this time I could do it. Barely.
I stumbled in the direction that I thought the tent was, but it was so dark and the area so big it was hard to tell where I was going. I trudged around for a while, looking for some kind of map, before I tripped over something.
"Shit," I said under my breath, and tried to pick up Gerard, but my legs wouldn't move. There was something wrapped around them. They were human hands. The rest of the dead that had been bitten or shot were turning fast, and I had collided straight into one. She pulled me towards her, muttering quietly, her wide eyes unblinking. I took out my gun from the waistband of my jeans and fired one shot. It ringed out across the silent festival and eventually the girl losened her grip on my leg. Her eyes began to become clearer and clearer, until they were shining brown eyes filled with unshed tears.
I felt sick, conatminated. I had killed a 13 year old girl. I vomited over the wall next to me and held onto the railings for support. She had barely lived her life, and I had cut it off completely; even if she was undead I shouldn't have killed her. I looked back at her body and stroked her matted hair. Blood oozed out of the single bullet wound in her head and I felt ill again. I looked at Gerard's body and suddenly remembered what I had to do.
"Don't worry," I told the girl. "You won't be forgotten."
I walked back towards the main stage and caught a glimpse of the yellow tent about 200 yards away from me. I fell down and rested Gerard's head on my knee.
"Help!" I yelled. "I need help!"
Bob, Ray and Mikey came sprinting out of the tent the second they heard my voice.
"What the hell happened?" Bob asked me urgnetly. I was suddenly filled with anger and rage at them for not helping me or Gerard at anytime when we were in trouble. With or without the zombies.
"What do you think just happened you fat fuck?" I shouted at him. "He just tried to fucking kill himself!"
"Don't go shouting at Bob," Ray warned. "He hasn't done anything."
"And that's precisely the point," I said. "None of you tried to help! Not even Mikey would help his brother when he was planning his own suicide."
Mikey had been unusually quiet, but this time he hit back.
"Get the fuck out of here, Frank, you rejected Gee straight from day one! He trundled after you like some stupid fucking lovesick puppy, and you pretended not to notice."
I opened my mouth to voice some witty comeback, but my throat was dry and constricted with guilt.
"He always loved me?" I whispered.
"Always," Mikey nodded. There was an awkward silence, and everyone shuffled around awkwardly. I suddenly had an idea.
"Isn't the ambulance team still here?" I asked. The guys looked at each other and nodded.
"They could save Gerard!" I said. Mikey patted me on the back.
"Good one," he smiled. "Now let's go find them."
"Let's go save Gee," I said.