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.


10. Ten

After that day we camped in the woods, we abandoned the car, it was as useful as a fish out of water. It would take too many parts to fix up anyway, and we just didn't have the time. It was only a few days after that we came across a young girl, in her twenties or so, sat in a car. Jamie went to help the girl, but his intentions soon faded away when he noticed her milky eyes, staring blankly at the windscreen. She was dead.

It seemed as though she locked herself in the seatbelt before she Turned in order to avoid future harm to others. I felt I owed her something. I moved over to her and gently closed her eyelids. We unbuckled the seatbelt, carefully as to not knock her now decaying body. Jamie carried her to the side of the road where there was little debris. I grabbed a nearby flowering plant, and placed it under her hands. She had come so far as a survivor, and I owed her a moment, at least, to show that I recognised her bravery. No matter how many of the dead infected I see, a sight like this is something I don't think I will ever get used to. She, like many others, had not made it.

We couldn't carry on with a guilty conscience; we, however, didn't have a choice. We took her car. It was every man for himself, and we wanted to get out of this shit, alive and breathing, to tell the tale. Selfish really; in our own little heroic ways.

We are on our fifth supplies raid in a town in remote Wales. We have found a petrol station that looks pretty much in tact considering it has been around two months since the pandemic swept the country. Sam pulls the truck up to the petrol pumps.

"Jamie, see if you can get any petrol outta these things, Darcy and me are going to grab some food."

"Darcy and I," I say, and he turns at me, slightly bewildered. "You said Darcy and me, it's 'Darcy and I.'"

"We're in the middle of an actual apocalypse, and you're correcting my grammar?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Yes, why yes I am. If we're going to die, we want to be grammatically correct." I send him a smile.

Sam pries open the glass door with a crowbar that was strapped around his back. He looks proud of himself; he was assured it would come in useful, and it sure did. We swing back the door to reveal a goldmine of non-perishable food cans such as baked beans and tinned pasta. Looks like we're not going to die just yet. I grab as much as my hands can carry and stuff my holdall until it is brimming.

It's pretty dark, the only light is that from outside, so I daren't venture too far back otherwise the darkness will inevitably reveal some unwanted encounters. I hear Sam from the other side of the shop, muttering things like "Oh man, Spam, I love this stuff" and "This is making me so hungry." I grab my small flashlight from my back pocket and shine it down the aisles of darkness.

Although something at the back of the shop catches my eye. Shining, shimmering, metallic… bullets! I venture back, my eyes on the desperately needed ammo. My flashlight skims across some other luxuries… guns… a lot of guns.

"Sam…" I breathe. I pick up the gun nearest to me, a hunting rifle. I sling it over my shoulder and gather up the bullets and ammo and stuff them into my pockets.

I turn to the left a little, my torch light guiding me. My heart leaps at my throat at the sight of a man in a bloody puddle, his brains coat the floor, a bullet hole through his forehead, and a pistol in his left hand, I can faintly taste vomit as I try not to gag. I raise my torch higher to find another man, lying in yet another pool of blood, only this time has bite marks and chunks of flesh torn from his body. Dead bodies… no sign of the consumer. Not much smell. They're fresh. This is bad. This is really, really bad.

I feel a pair of arms cling around my shoulders from behind. I jump a little. "Sam, that's not funny, you scared the shit ou—" I turn around. It certainly isn't Sam. And it certainly isn't human. I swallow hard. Before I get a chance to scream, I feel piercing, sharp teeth bite at my neck and the arms grip tighter around my body.

"Sam! Sam! Sam, help me!" Hot tears run down my cheeks as it continues to gnaw at my skin, I can feel the warmth of blood seeping down my back. I yelp out in pain. I can't muster up the strength to push him off me; I haven't eaten a decent meal in days. It's never ending, the gnaw, gnaw, gnawing at my flesh. 

I accept it. I'm going to die. I, Darcy-May Johnson, am going to die today, on this not-so beautiful day in October 2010.

"Sam, I'm going to die." I confirm. He skids round the corner, pistol in hand and shoots, not even hesitating.

"Not today you're not." A confident bullet through the head of the Crawler sends its limbs sprawling across the floor. He swiftly removes his tshirt and presses it to my neck to steady the flow of blood. "Come on, we're getting out of here, you're going to be okay." He sounds terrified. And I know he doesn't know that for sure.

Jamie and Brooke see us and wave us over. They look a little closer and notice the constant river of blood running down my arm. Panic suddenly sets in and they run towards us.

"What happened? Are you okay? Darcy? What is going on? Are you hurt?"

"She got…" Sam steadies his voice, "she got bitten."

"What?!" They both gasp.

"I'll use the medical kit in the car, we'll find a place to sleep tonight and check it in the morning." Brooke nods. Sam goes to take the keys off of Jamie. He steps back, shaking his head.

"No." Sam and Brooke both look at him with disbelieving eyes.

"What did you just say?" Sam says, gritting his teeth.

"No," Jamie starts swinging the car keys around his index finger. "I don't want her in the car, I'm sorry man, she's gonna Turn, I don't want us all to die."

Ouch. Sam leaves my side and grabs Jamie by the collar. "You fucking hand me those car keys right now or I will tie you to the back of the truck and drive through a crowd of Crawlers."

Jamie straightens himself up and eventually hands Sam the keys. We get in the truck and I lean against Sam's side as he checks my neck every so often for obvious signs of infection. This is going to be a long ride…

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