Regeneration

Chapter 10 - Bloody Hands

I squeezed my eyes shut as a high pitch terrified scream escaped my lips. All I had time to do was jerk the splintered end up at him.

I felt a warm thick liquid trickle down my hands. I slowly opened my eyes to see the mop stick inserted under his chin, as the massive man gurgled and twitched. The stick became heavy in my hands as his body went limp. Dropping it, my back still pressed against the wall, breathing heavily.

I stood there silently my eyes wide open, staring at my bloody hands in disbelief. I couldn't believe I actually did it.

I killed someone.

I heard movement and quickly whipped my head to the sound.

My dread was replaced with relief when I saw it was only the stranger. He was standing at the entrance, his gun in hand, aimed where the huge man's head was a second ago.

"How long were you standing there?" I asked trying to conceal my emotions.

"I just got here, I was about to shoot when you..." He trailed off, sparing my feelings, "Are you hurt?"

I ignored his question looking at the deep red substance on my hands.

"Listen I need to know if you're hurt... did he bite you?" He grabbed my hand, looking me over.

"No." My voice quivered slightly as I pulled my hand away.

I looked over at the lifeless body lying on the floor, still processing what had just happened. That man was dead because of me.

"He would have killed you, you did what was necessary." The stranger spoke.

"I did what was necessary," I repeated his words with disbelief.

Deep down I knew he was right but just the act of taking someone's life felt so horrible. This was against my nature. I took a life, a life of someone who got sick and possibly didn't know what they were doing; he had no choice in the matter.

The stranger walked away in search of something. He returned with a cloth, giving it to me to wipe my hands.

I felt my pockets, remembering the knife. I scanned the floor, it was hard to see with barely any light. When I finally spotted it under the desk, I walked over and pocketed it.

The stranger stooped next to the unmoving body, examining the wound in the man's head.

"What were you doing here?" I asked as I threw the cloth on the desk.

I moved to walk outside and he followed.

"I heard the noise figured you might be in trouble," he answered.

Once outside, he turned to walk in the direction of the motel room and I stopped. "I am still going to find my brother," I stated firmly.

He abruptly grabbed my arm, pulling me to the side of the office building. "Shit," I heard him mutter under his breath.

"What are you doing?" I said yanking my arm away from him.

He pulled me back against him, my back on his chest, this time placing a hand over my mouth, his other arm holding me in place.

"Hunters," he said lowly in my ear. He slowly moved his hand away from my mouth and I slightly peered out from behind the wall.

What the hell is he talking about?

What I saw petrified me.

Dozens of the crazed people were running down the street. Some ran towards the motel as though they were searching for something and others kept running along the roadside.