Who We Were | Book One

31. Dead Eyes

I could only pray that it was one of the Sightless as I turned to the creature, pulling my mask back over my face from where it had sat around my neck. My gun sat on the rocks an arm's length away and as my fingertips brushed the metal, the stones shifted beneath me.

A creaking head shot in my direction and snapping jaws lurched towards me. It threw its body down the hill and hurled itself on top of me as my fingers closed around the weapon. Patches of skin peeled from its face and its teeth snapped ferociously and animalistic. Its arms were covered in deep cuts, likely from axes and knives which had all penetrated to the bone. I held my forearm against its uneven chest, forcing it away as it struggled. Snapping down the hammer, I brought it up to the side of its temple and squeezed my eyes shut as I pulled the trigger.

The body slumped and my ears rang out, my head echoing a sharp whistle. As I pushed the body off, it rolled over onto its back into the shallow water and its dead eyes stared back at the blank sky. Aside from the missing patches of skin that stamped its body like patchwork, the pinprick pupils and the dark veins which covered its body like a tube map, it looked normal.

That's what scared me the most about the Infected; they weren't terrifying because they were physically decomposing, they were terrifying because there was still a part of them that looked human.

I took off sprinting back to the pub. Within minutes, I'd forgotten every grudge I'd been holding against Josh and all I could think about was how much safer I'd felt with him around. My rucksack bounced against my lower back like a heavy drum while my damp hair slapped against the back of my neck. I was only halfway back when I heard voices.

I slowed when two figures emerged from one of the houses that lined the street. One had a large gun which was slung over his shoulder like Josh carried his rifle, the other carried a cricket bat covered with nails. They'd already caught sight of me before I'd even thought to hide.

"Hey!" One of them yelled. I could barely hear their voices as their words were carried by the rain, leaving their sentences unfinished. "... Dawn Hill?"

I sprinted.

The adrenaline coursed through my veins and made me feel sick as my legs powered beneath me, the saliva in my mouth thickening. My heart hammered as I thought of nothing but Josh and the pub. I was distanced from everything except for the heavy drumming in my ears. A shot echoed past and I stumbled as birds scurried from the trees.

Behind me, the man with the gun had brought it up to his chest once again and had it pointed in my direction. I dodged to the right before the blast soared past and a searing pain shot through my left arm. My foot caught on a loose rock and I hurtled to the ground, landing against the damp grass.

"Shit!" I heard one of the men yell as I swung my hand over my arm and grabbed as tightly as I could, trying to hold the skin together. I scrambled as the men picked up their pace towards me, yelling indistinctly as I tried to pull myself away from them, my legs numb from exhaustion.

"Drop the gun!" One of them yelled when they were a few metres away.

They were both dressed in black clothing and the man with the gun wore a dark hoodie which stopped just above his eyes. Blood seeped through the rip in my jacket and covered my fingers as the weapon remained pointed at my head.

"Drop the gun!" He repeated, edging closer. When I did, he gestured to the man with the bat. "Grab her," he ordered.

My lungs ached and my muscles were tensed, I wanted to fight but everything in my body screamed against it. The man with the bat had torn the rucksack from my shoulders and had thrown it to the other as he gripped a tight fist around my arm that wasn't bleeding.