You're Hoping For A Taste

Noise.

Everywhere I turn there's noise, tents, people.

I steer clear of everyone because in the dark and the confusion I can't tell if they're Walkers or not. Everyone's running. Everyone's screaming. Everyone's stained with blood.

I'm running blind. My heart is punching my rib cage and my feet are pounding the floor. I just need to find the boys. But how am I ever going to do that in this stupid commune, this stupid fucking commune, where I can't tell the Living from the Dead?

I'm trying to make my way back to the camp fire. I can see its glow in the distance, flickering as shadows flit across its path of light. I know the guys won't be there, but I don't know what else to do.

Someone collides with my side and I only have time for a feeble scream as I fall. Yet whoever it was doesn't stay, they're on their feet, scrambling away, and I do the same.

I try not to think that next time it could be a Walker.

I reach the fire. I knew it would be useless. I'm the only one here. I can see everyone else, all around, shapes of muted colour, rushing from tent to tent.

Out of desperation I try yelling the guy's names, but with so many other voices filling the night air they'll never hear me. This can only end badly.

My next best bet is the tent I was sharing with Kellin. I break into a run, the light receding the further I move from the fire. A gunshot goes off nearby, and I rush past a man, his gun aimed at a corpse. The smell of blood floods my nostrils. I ignore it.

I recognise the paisley pattern of the tent cover and I sprint for it, my legs and lungs beginning to ache as I run and yell Kellin's name. I turn for the tent and-

Something smacks me full force in the face. I hit the ground. My back jars, pain shooting along my shoulder blades. My bottom lip throbs. Everything tastes like iron.

A groan. I bolt upright, looking to my side, blood trailing warm down my chin. But it's not a Walker I see beside me. It's Gabe.

He coughs and groans again, slowly pulling himself into a sitting position. I breathe a sigh of relief, my heart practically choking me, but he only stares dazedly.

“Fuck, Alexa, you almost knocked me out,” he grumbles, rubbing his eyes.

“I almost knocked you out?” I scoff. “Get up; you'd better not have concussion. We don't have time for that.”

I help him to his feet, trying to make him move fast, but his limbs are sluggish.

“Your lip,” he says, pointing.

I wipe at the blood, only managing to smear it across half my face. I'm at the point where the adrenaline is so concentrated in my veins that I can barely feel the pain. “Yeah, thanks for that, Gabe. Now come on; where's everyone else?”

Gabe furrows his brow, and a sense of urgency returns to him as his head clears. “I- I don't know. I don't. We all just ran, and I was with Jack and then I wasn't and I came here. I don't know where they are.”

Panic flutters like a captive bird in my chest.

“Okay,” I say, “okay, okay. We'll find them. We have to find them. Come on.”

We start moving. I stick close to Gabe's side as we run, aimlessly, in the darkness. He holds his arms out protectively, shielding me as we round corners, swerve out of people's reach.

And then the Walker hits.

It takes Gabe down like he weighs nothing, tackling him, and for a second you could mistake it for a rugby tackle, just a game, not life and death at all.

And before I really know what I'm doing, I'm grabbing the lantern from the tent beside me and swinging it so hard my muscles scream as my voice does.

The lantern hits the Walker, knocking it off Gabe, who scrambles away. And with a hiss the Walker goes up in flames. I drop the lantern, suddenly aware of the oil dripping from it. One second longer and I'd have been joining the Walker.

It writhes on the ground, snarling and shrieking, searching for the human it just lost. But now Gabe is at my side, panting and shaking. He grabs my hand and pulls me away, yet I don't need to be forced to run; I just do it.

We charge between tents before I think, properly think, and I'm tugging Gabe to a stop. He wheels around, staring at me. “What? What's wrong?”

“Are you bitten?” I ask. Those fatal words.

He's gasping for breath, but he shakes his head. “No, no I'm fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Okay, good.”

I feel like I could cry and be sick. I'm on the verge of gagging up my floundering heart.

I turn and look at the scene around us. I can see the flames from the Walker and the lantern, licking at the sky over tents. People are still running, alive or not, and I'm terrified that at any second Gabe and I will be one of the Dead running.

That's when I see him. Or at least I think I do.

I elbow Gabe in the ribs, probably a little too hard from the way he winces, but right now I don't care. I point, frantically grabbing Gabe, trying to make him see. “Is that Kellin?”

“What?” Gabe says. “Where?”

“In the tree,” I answer, my surprise and desperation evident in my voice.

“Shit, it is,” Gabe replies, practically laughing, “it is, come on.”

We run. I don't take my eyes off Kellin, standing on that stupid branch, his head looking this way and that, searching for something, for us. I start shouting his name, and so does Gabe. You can tell when he hears us, because his head suddenly snaps to a stop, his body entirely still. Then he leans forward, precarious, his hands hanging onto the branch above him.

But then he stiffens again, his posture straightening, and he's pointing at us. No, not at us; behind us.

Gabe looks behind first, and whatever he sees has him faltering. He grabs my arm just as I'm turning and yanks me to the side. There's a rush of air behind me, and I whip around.

The Walker stumbles to a stop. The Walker - a girl, no older than me – just looks at us, her lips pulled back over her teeth as a liquid growl rises from her throat.

We watch, frozen. We have no weapons. Our legs are tired from running. We could try and outrun her, but she already caught up to us once. She, a girl, once like me. Whoever she was is gone now.

“Gabe,” I say, and it comes out a whisper. He's still clutching my arm.

“It's gonna be okay,” he answers, his voice surer than mine, but it's a false hope, I know it.

This might be the end of me.

The branch cracks into the Walker's skull with a sound like lightning striking a rain-soaked tree. She hits the ground, and Kellin brings the branch down on her head again and again and again until she twitches and lies still.

Kellin looks to us, breathing heavily, the branch hanging limp in his hands. He drags an arm across his forehead and drops the branch, unsteadily stepping away from the corpse. I rush to him, throwing my arms around his neck, and in turn he wraps his around my waist.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his breathing laboured, his chest rising and falling.

“I'm fine, are you?” I feel him nod, and I pull back to look him in the eyes, just to check the truth in his words. His face is drawn, but his eyes are alert, searching mine for the same thing. “Where are the others?” I ask.

He simply says, “Come with me,” nodding at Gabe to follow.

We don't have the breath to say anything else, we just move, following Kellin as he skirts the edge of the commune. I try not to look at the commune; I don't want to see.

We find Jesse, Jack and Justin huddled behind the trunk of a large oak, the three of them crouched on the ground as they hurriedly load some guns. They startle when we appear, but are immediately on their feet.

“Thank God,” Jesse says, releasing the breath he was holding.

“Everyone okay?” Kellin asks.

“All good,” Justin replies. “Now we need to get out of here.”

“How though?” Jack snaps, his tone irritated and desperate. He drags a hand through his short hair.

And that's when I remember. I reach into the pocket of my jeans, my hand feeling metal and plastic. I pull the car keys out and hold them up for everyone to see. All five of the boys smile.

“Come on,” Kellin says. “Let's get out of here.”