Our Days Are Numbered

Four friends embarked on a memorable trip in the countryside to celebrate the summer; however, while they were isolated from the world, they were unknowing of the mortifying reality that waited for them when they returned from paradise. They were young, free, and having fun, if there was one thing they weren’t, it was prepared. Especially for the hell-inflicting disaster of the zombie apocalypse. Darcy, Brooke, Sam and Jamie have one task, and one task only, and that is to survive.


6. Six

My eyes squinted open, and I winced in complete pain. Everything hurt. Sam was sat in front of me, cupping my hands in his. "W—what happened?"

"I shot the dog. You passed out from blood loss, Jamie's gone to get a bandage from the first aid kit."

"Sam, I thought I was going to die." I paused, realising what he'd just said, "And you have a gun?"

"For very reasons like this." He said, and I raised my eyebrows at him.

"So you knew a wild rabid dog would come and attack me?"

"Well, no. But you never know what it could come in useful for."

I rested my head back against the chair and exhaled heavily. "Sam, what is happening?" I let out a soft sob, and he kissed my hand.

"I don't know, Darcy, I don't know, but what I do know, is that you're going to be okay. I managed to shoot the bastard before he could do much damage."

I gave him a sad look, "it was a she, she was called Piper. She seemed so peaceful at first. And then it's like, as soon as the sun went down…"

Jamie came back, his arms full of first aid stuff. He knelt down in front of me and rested my leg against his. "Right," he said, pushing his blonde hair out of his face. I looked down at my leg and noticed the blood oozing from the wound. It was beginning to yellow around the edges.

"Is it infected?" I said, panicking.

"We can't be sure," Jamie said; his mum was a paramedic which meant he knew roughly what to do, "as soon as we leave tomorrow we'll drive you to a hospital. It should be fine if we treat it now." I'd never seen him so serious. I just looked at Sam and nodded.

He dipped some cotton wool in some salty water and caught my attention, "this is gonna hurt a bit." He placed it to the skin and I felt a burning sensation travel up my leg. I grabbed Sam's hand and gripped it so tight he worried it might fall off. Jamie gave me an apologetic look and continued, whispering "sorry," every so often. Once the initial pain became tolerable – still there – but tolerable, he began wrapping the bandage around my leg and I just prayed to God it wouldn't get infected.

We all sat around the fire, rather solemn that evening. It was pitch black, but nobody was tired. I was sure I was delusional, but I could have sworn I kept hearing the growl of that dog, even though Sam shot it clean in the head. I got up, barely limping, and started grabbing some large twigs.

Sam rushed to my side. "Darcy, what are you doing? You need to be resting." I brushed him off, and continued gathering some metre long sticks. I went over to the fire and lit the end of them. Brooke and Jamie looked at me confused.

I carried them back over to the edge of camp and stuck them in the ground. I continued until the camp was surrounded by an entire circle of fiery branches.

"What are you doing?" Sam chuckled, in a way that made me feel like I'd gone insane.

"Being safe," I said bluntly. "Dogs can stay in packs; they might get angry if they find out we've killed one of them." I really, quite honestly didn't know what I was talking about, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.

"It's pointless," Jamie said matter-of-factly, "it's not likely to happen again."

Sam looked at him, "just leave her be," he said, as if I wouldn't hear.

"You all think I'm crazy, don't you?" I had started to cry. I wasn't sure why, I had no reason to.

"Don't be stupid, Darcy." Brooke said. I was tired. I just wanted to go to bed.

"Whatever, I'm going to bed." I said, and hobbled into the tent. I was so mentally and physically drained from the day's happenings I didn't even change clothes. I got into bed, adjusted my position so it was reasonably comfortable on my leg, and started drifting off.

The last thing I felt before I fell into the depths of sleep was Sam kissing my forehead. "Goodnight, Darcy." I wanted with all my heart to reply, but I didn't have the energy to do anything but lull into a blissful, pain-free unconsciousness.

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