An Undead Boy

Today is four days since the bite. I haven't asked to see it again but the knowledge of it being there feels as if I can't tear my eyes away, that I'm reliving it over again in my head.

The day is undeniably miserable for May and as I cross the quad, a shortcut through the school and to the library where I'm meeting Danielle, I can't help but be reminded of the day I died - albeit, dimly reminded.

I remember a lot of rain on that day, much like now, and wearing a grey zip up jacket. For the first time in my second life, I wonder who was driving that red car. I'm not sure if they were found or owned up to it because no one told me anything when I woke up again. I just spent my time in the hospital, with no news or visitors or anything. Do they think about me often? They must surely know that I'm walking and talking again, maybe living in terror that I will track them down for revenge? They need not fear though; I am past my angry stage, currently residing in reluctant acceptance.

Reaching the library, I throw a casual glance over my shoulder to see if anyone is watching before proceeding through the doors. This is my favourite time of day because yes, I get to see Danielle but also because of the library itself. I've grown fond of our little sanctuary, grown accustomed to the musty smell and the walls of books forever pressing in at us. It doesn't feel claustrophobic - more like a whole other world, a secret island for me and Danielle.

I shake the rain from my hair, winding my way through the shelves to find her. Of course she's in our corner but something makes me hold back for a while, a nagging in the back of my head that tells me to just watch her for a minute.

I can only see the back of her. She is sat on a desk, letting her legs swing back and forth idly with a book beside her although she isn't reading, shoulders hunched. Her hair is down; a rippling, silvery waterfall on her jumper. She pulls her legs up onto the desk, folding them under her, turning to the side. From here, I can see that she is ghostly white, a slight sheen across her face which she is fanning with a second book. I presume that the room is warm because I can't really adapt to my environment, only feeling heat when Danielle touches me.

I step out into her view, throwing my bag onto a chair as I search the shelves for something new to read.

"Hey." she grins when she spots me, the make-shift fan still flapping at her face.

"Hi - nice weather we're having." I say, nodding in the direction of the window, the rain pounding the glass so hard that I half think that it will shatter.

I scan the Horror section, decide against it because it's too close for comfort so I move over to History.

"Perfect for picnics." Danielle replies, her voice slightly breathy. "How about it? You, me, the park and my sandwiches. I don't have a blanket but I reckon the curtains from in here will do."

The curtains happen to be a thick, cobweb-covered floral affair. I humour her, chuckling as I stoop low over the books.

"Certainly - if you can bear the thought of sharing it with spiders?"

Danielle is quick to reply. "Oh, but I know you'll protect me from them, right?"

I change my mind, figuring that I'd prefer some light reading after all but those kind of books are on the other side of the library. I stand up, using the shelf to lean on.

"Protect you?" I cry to her, glancing over at the other bookshelves away from us. "I am the champion spider slayer of the whole world! Spiders quake at the thought of facing me!"

I expect her to laugh, or in the very least snort at my unofficial 'Champion of Spider Slaying' title but there's nothing except a sharp intake of breath. It obviously hasn't come from me so I look over to Danielle, being the only other candidate for producing the noise. She has given up with her insist fanning and I can see the sweat dripping from her hairline, falling off her chin.

"Are you okay?"

"Actually, I don't - I don't feel too good, Charlie." she gasps, clutching her side as she slides off the table to her feet. "My breathing feels...a little...tight."

Her knees suddenly give way and she drops to the floor, landing so hard that pockets of dust lift up into the air. I run over to her, shout her name but it doesn't register with her, like she can't hear me anymore. All she does is stare up at me, her eyes slightly out of focus, and her mouth forms a small 'O' before she collapses with a thud on her side.

I press my hand into her neck, about to feel for a pulse but there is no need. I can see her chest rising and falling heavily, can feel the hot breath on my face as I lean closer. I don't know how I can tell but her skin feels hotter than I'm used to beneath my cool fingers and this sends me into a fresh frenzy.

I don't know what else I can do - I lift her up in my arms unsteadily, my wiry frame hardly the necessary material to transport teenage girls from one side of the school to another. But this is Danielle, a passed out Danielle, and there's no question that I will carry her to the school office where the nurse resides even if all my limbs drop off.

With a slight wobble, I kick my school bag out of the way, vowing to come back for it later and awkwardly shift sideways so that I can get both of us through the door without smashing Danielle's head off the frame.

As I struggle away from the library, I realise one thing: the whole school is on their break. Even now, with my efforts solely focused on not dropping Danielle, I can hear their screams and shouts from outside and in the corridors further up from us and I know what they're going to think when they see me carrying an unconscious Danielle. It only takes the smallest thing for people to jump to conclusions but this is a big one; I might as well be dragging her lifeless body on the floor behind me with blood splattered on our clothes. They will think I've attacked her, although it's technically true but at the wrong time, and I have no way of defending myself because I just want to get her to the nurse before - in case - she gets worse.

"Charlie? What the hell - "

A blind moment of panic until I see Matthew Wilkes striding towards me and I seize my chance because it's the only alternative I can think of.

"You have to help me! Danielle - she said she didn't feel good and she - she passed out or something and I have to get her to the nurse but I can't! I can't carry her, I won't even be able to get past the rest of the school because they'll think I did something to her but that doesn't matter, she just needs to get to the nurse!" I say hurriedly, barely pausing.

I don't even know him that well and I have no right to ask anything from him but this is for Danielle. I pray silently as I watch his reaction - he looks blank faced for a second before nodding, holding out his arms.

"Give her to me - I'll take her."

The relief is palpable and I step closer to place Danielle in his outstretched arms.

"Thank you, I - I don't know what I - "

Matt readjusts his hold on Danielle as carefully as he can while I stutter, pulling her into his chest. I feel a stab of unjustified jealousy over the fact that he can do this for her while I can't.

"If you follow behind us, maybe take a different route to the office and we can meet up there? That way, the school won't see that you've been with her and they'll never know." he tells me calmly, as if he's done this a thousand times.

I can only nod dumbly as he strolls away down the corridor, making carrying Danielle look easier than I found it, her hair swishing freely side to side.

When they're out of sight, I head off in the opposite direction, hoping to double back in a few minutes to give them time to get a head start. I decide to collect my bag, and while I'm there I gather up Danielle's things too. As I scoop up her jacket, I lift it to my face for a second, trying to catch her scent - coconut shampoo and the faintest trace of some flowery perfume. It's hits me like a slap and as I check the clock and quicken my pace to leave the library again, I wonder why Danielle is so ill.

The sweating, the apparent fever, her dizziness, the fainting. She was fine yesterday, maybe it's some sort of stomach bug going around? But then, her health has generally been excellent and I don't know anyone who has had any bug of any kind. There's something niggling at the back of my brain, something that I don't particularly like but the insistence for acknowledgement is too powerful to overcome.

This all started after the bite.

What if I'm contagious? I haven't given it a second thought since the day of the assembly at the start of the year, when those girls were gossiping that I'd touched other people and had infected them; my fear was driven off by the impending future. What if my undead zombie genes have somehow mixed with Danielle's alive human ones? That can't be a good combination. What if I've really, truly doomed her?

The urgency to get back to her is stronger than before and I fly through the corridors, past yawning teachers and my startled peers - they haven't seen me move so fast in months. It's incredible how quickly I get around the school, the office is just in sight and as I'm about to literally throw myself through it's door, I almost crash into someone.

It's Matt. He comes out of the office, his face grave and his posture tense. He takes one look at me before ushering me into a corner, his arm draped forcibly around my shoulders.

"You better go. The nurse found the plaster on her neck, we saw the bite mark. You can imagine that it's not going down well in there, they recognise the teeth marks are human and naturally, they see only one culprit here - unless Danielle has some sort of fetish for bites but I think we both know that's unlikely."

"Matt - " I begin but I don't know what to say. I just feel like I need to explain to him what happened, to make him understand that I didn't mean it and I'll do everything I can for it to not happen again. It seems important to me for him to know, for some reason. I think I don't want him to be disappointed in me.

There's no need though. He waves a hand at me and casts a glance over his shoulder to the office. I can hear muttering inside, the sound of a phone ringing and occasional muted footsteps treading across carpet.

"I'm not judging you, Charlie." he says sternly. "But I think you should probably keep your distance from Danielle for today, go home and take your mind off things? I want you to promise me that you'll keep yourself safe."

Even though he's only a year older than me, he seems to have assumed the role of responsibility and he is showing nothing but fatherly concern for me - some kid who he's only spoken to once before. I'm inexplicably touched by this and I open my mouth to tell him so, at least in a non-creepy way but he's already shaking his head at me.

"It's what Arthur would do." he says determinedly, as if it's the axis that the world revolves around on. "You're a good guy, Charlie. I know you are so just go home, okay?"

This makes what I do next harder to do than I thought it would be but I have no choice. I lie.

"Sure, you're right. I will." I tell him, handing over Danielle's things. "Give her these for me, please?"

He takes them without question, as he had done with Danielle herself and I can't believe I'm lying to him. Still, I have no intention of going home because I won't be able to hear any news there. I'm going to stay in school, go to class, act normal until word spreads; if there is something wrong with Danielle, I will find out.

"Thank you, Matt - really."

This last part is not a lie and now, he looks as if he wants to say something to me. For a moment, I think he knows that I'm not being honest with him but he swallows whatever he is about to say and claps me on the back instead, retreating back to the office without another word.