Chapter Three
Briggs
I grunt as I pull this man onto my back. Fuck, he’s way heavier than I thought he would be. Thank Christ I’m strong enough to carry him. There’s no way I’m leaving him behind. Now that we’re out of that fucking camp, there’s no turning back.
I look behind us once, just making sure there’s no one trying to follow us.
They’re too busy dealing with the zombie outbreak in their camp.
I turn and start jogging, trying to move as quickly as I can while still making sure not to jostle the werewolf on my back too much.
I have him over my shoulders in a fireman's hold, the only way I know to carry him that I can handle for a long while.
Doing my best to keep my head on a swivel, I move. I start with a jog but when my lungs start to ache, I slow down to a brisk walk. I never stop moving. The more distance between us and that camp, the better.
The dogtags around my neck jingle and I carefully slide them back into my shirt, keeping them quiet. The jingle reminds me of how important it is to keep going. No one is getting left behind, not this time. Not ever again.
Sweat drips down my face and I do my best to wipe it against my shoulder. The last thing I need is sweat in my eyes if a zombie suddenly pops out from behind a tree.
Normally, I would be hiding up in a tree when the sun is down like this, but there’s no way in hell I’m getting this guy up into a tree while he’s passed out like this.
As the night stretches on, I just keep walking.
Any time I think I hear something, I make sure to turn away from the sound, keeping us away from anything I might need to fight.
For once in my life, luck seems to be on our side. As I break out of the tree filled area, I find a little town. On the outskirts is a little farm house that seems abandoned. There’s no signs of zombies out here but I have a feeling that’s because they’re all crowded inside the town.
I get closer, finding a cellar door. I listen for a moment, waiting to hear any sort of shuffling or groaning.
When I don’t hear anything, I pull the cellar door open.
It’s silent down here. I’m guessing this used to be a storm shelter which makes sense as before the whole ‘end of the world’ bullshit, I’m pretty sure this used to be tornado alley.
Weirdly, we don’t really get storms as much.
If I had to guess, it’s because humans aren’t emitting pollution like they used to.
I carefully crawl down into the storm cellar, closing the door behind me. If someone intelligent showed up, we’d be sitting ducks but there’s no chance a zombie will be breaking in. For now, I think we’re relatively safe.
Laying the dude on the ground, I step back, trying to get my bearings. Jesus fucking Christ, I’m tired. All of the adrenaline that was keeping me going fades away all at once, leaving me more exhausted than I’ve ever felt before. My hands begin to shake.
I quickly get my backpack off, pulling out a bottle of water and a sleeve of crackers.
I munch on them, trying to keep my blood sugar from plummeting.
I need to check this guy over and make sure he doesn’t have any other wounds but first, I need to take care of myself.
There’s a reason flight attendants used to remind you to put your mask on first before helping the people around you.
I feel around my backpack until I find a candle.
Then I find my box of matches. I light the candle and set it down.
This place is small enough I can see the entire area we’re in.
There’s a wall with shelves on it, filled with emergency supplies.
There’s only enough room for about four people to lie down side by side which is plenty for sharing with just this werewolf without feeling too crowded. This truly was a lucky find.
Now that I don’t feel like I’m about to pass out, I crawl over to this guy. I can’t wait until he wakes up so I can stop calling him guy in my head. Maybe I should give him a nickname. Sleepy Head? SH? Good enough.
I look over SH’s face. This is the first time he’s looked peaceful since I first saw him a few days ago.
His face has no worry lines or wrinkles.
This close, I can see he’s quite handsome.
Tanned skin, full lips, a sharp jaw. He’s bigger than me.
I have a feeling if he was able to actually properly eat, he’d be quite stocky as well.
“Okay,” I murmur to myself. “Let’s check things out.”
I look over his arms, making sure there are no bites or scratches. What I see shocks me to my core. Covering his arms are bites and scratches and wounds that have scarred over. He looks like he’s been a chew toy until now.
My stomach sours as I look over his legs, finding the same exact thing.
Worse than that, there’s a fresh bite on his ankle from our fight earlier.
It’s still sluggishly bleeding. I look at my shoulder and sure enough, there’s blood all over my shirt from his ankle and his thigh bleeding all over me.
I really don’t want to have to kill SH. I only just saved him, but the sight of a fresh bite makes bile rise up in my throat. No one should have to go through the process of turning. I could kill him in his sleep and he’d be none the wiser.
The scars make me pause.
He’s been bitten before and hasn’t turned. What the fuck does that mean? Is he somehow immune to the zombie virus? I know that werewolves can be turned, so what is it about SH that keeps him from becoming undead?
With shaky hands that have nothing to do with my blood sugar, I clean the bite on his ankle before wrapping it up to keep it clean.
Then I cut his pants open, exposing the bullet wound.
I give the bullet wound on his thigh the same treatment.
My heart is in my throat as I finish up and move away, putting my supplies back into my bag.
I move to the other side of the shelter, going through everything on the shelf. There are canned goods and medical supplies I shove into my bag. Then I sit down on the ground facing SH.
“Okay, Sleepy Head. Please don’t make me regret saving you.”
As much as I’d like to stay awake and keep an eye on SH, my eyes have other plans. I try to fight sleep but before I know it, my eyes are closing and I’m passing out, every last bit of my strength used up and gone.
I’m not sure how long I sleep but when I wake up, I can feel eyes on me. My heart skips a beat, wondering if I’m going to wake up to SH or if there’s a zombie in the room with me. Surely, if he had turned, I wouldn’t be waking up at all, right?
“I know you’re awake,” Sleepy Head says, his voice gravelly and deep. “I can hear your heart rate spike.”
Huh. I guess being a werewolf means having advanced hearing. I assumed as much but hearing the confirmation is interesting.
Slowly, I sit up, turning and facing the man I saved. The candle is somehow still burning, on the very last bit of its wick. The man looks good, especially considering everything that’s happened.
He pulls the bandage off his ankle and instead of a fresh bite, there’s a mostly healed bite. Jesus, it must be nice to have such quick healing! Although, that only adds to the tragedy of his story. What the hell did that camp put him through that he just healed from over and over and over again.
I do my best to always keep a level head but in that moment, I’m filled with rage I’ve never felt before. Fuck that camp. Fuck those humans. Fuck them all. In that moment, I can’t help but feel relieved that they’re all dead.
“Good morning, Sleepy Head,” I say, nodding towards his leg. “How’s the leg?”
“Mostly healed,” he tells me, pulling the bandage off his thigh as well. That one is still red and enflamed, probably because of the silver that was used. “And don’t call me Sleepy Head. I’m not some little kid.”
“Sorry,” I say, “it’s what I’ve been calling you in my head.”
“Call me Wade.”
“Wade,” I say, repeating the name, testing it out. I nod to him in understanding. “I’m Briggs.”
“I should be thanking you,” Wade says slowly, his eyes never leaving me.
He’s sizing me up, trying to get a gauge of the type of man I am.
I don’t blame him. After all he’s been through, I don’t think I would be able to trust anyone ever again.
“I won’t grovel or beg. I won’t do as you ask.
I don’t owe you shit. If you ask me to suck your dick in thanks, I’ll bite it off at the root. ”
I can’t help but smile. It’s not funny but the entire situation is so absurd I can’t help but find it amusing in its own sick and twisted way.
“I promise, you owe me nothing. What they were doing was so fucked up I don’t even have words. Getting you out of there was the least I could do.”
“So what do you want?”
I shrug. “What does anyone want anymore? To survive? To live long enough to see if it’s possible for things to get better? I don’t even fucking know anymore, man.”
Wade stares at me for a long moment before finally looking away. Apparently, my answer was good enough for now. I turn to my bag, pulling out two cans of food. I hold them up for Wade to see.
“Do you have a preference? I have fiesta corn, tuna, shredded chicken, and black beans.”
Wade looks at the cans and then back at me. “Shredded chicken.”
I toss the can over to him before popping open the fiesta corn. If possible, we should go check things out upstairs and see if there’s anything worth taking up there. Depending on how Wade’s leg heals, we might even be able to venture into this little town.
“What’s the deal with all the bites?”
Wade’s body tenses. He pauses his eating in order to look over at me with unsure eyes. They’re such a bright green color. Like grass right after a lightning storm. They’re pretty even if they have so much distrust in them.
“I’m not a danger.”
“That’s what I’m trying to determine. I’m not trying to grill you about your past or what happened or anything like that. I’m just trying to make sure I’m safe to be around you.”
Wade takes another bite, chewing slowly, giving himself time to answer me. I follow his lead, tipping the corn back and eating some of it. This would be so much better if it was warm but this is better than nothing.
“I realized I was immune after they’d caught me. I tried to give up. I was hoping the bite would end my captivity but it simply healed over. I don’t know why. I can’t explain it. But no matter how many times I’m bitten, they always just heal.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, not knowing what else to say.
“I don’t want your pity.”
“I don’t pity you. I’m just sorry you had to go through all that. No one should be treated that way, Wade.” I take another bite before I quickly add, “it might make me just as bad as them but I’m not sorry they’re dead. The world is better off without them roaming free.”
Silence stretches between us. It’s Wade who breaks it. “That doesn’t make you a bad person.”
“Thanks for saying that.”
“You’re welcome.”
We finish our cans of food. It’s not really that filling but it’ll have to do for now. I have no idea what time of day it is or how long I actually slept.
Turning towards Wade, I ask, “you know what I could really go for right now?”
“A cheeseburger?”
I snort and shake my head. “No. A bag of popcorn.”
He looks at me like I’ve grown three heads. “Popcorn? Really?”
I smile. “Yeah. It used to be my favorite. I haven’t found a bag in forever and even if I did, it’s really hard to actually pop the bags without a microwave. It’s just not the same over a fire.”
“You’d need to find a pot and then just dump the kernels in.”
“Yeah, but carrying a pot around is a pain in the ass. Probably not really worth it.”
Wade shakes his head. “Popcorn. That’s such a silly thing to long for when everything else has gone to shit.” He lets out a chuckle and the atmosphere in here is suddenly much warmer. He doesn’t trust me but at least now the wall between us is coming down just a little bit.
“Do you know what time it is?”
“No idea.” He closes his eyes, tilting his head. He’s listening, I realize quickly. “I don’t hear any shuffling but there are lots of insects so it’s probably still dark outside.”
“I think we should rest up until the sun comes up and then would you be up for checking out the nearby town? We can see about supplies and then make a plan from there?”
“I still don’t trust you,” Wade says instead of answering.
“I would expect nothing less. I’m not asking you to trust me. Honestly, it’s probably safest if we never trust another person. Keep your head on a swivel. That’s smart. I’m just proposing that we equally not trust people together.”
“Why?”
I shrug because I don’t really have a good answer. “Let’s stay together until we get you properly supplied. Once you have everything you need to survive, then we can part ways.”
“What do you get out of this?”
“Let’s just say I have a weird survivor complex. I couldn’t save someone in my past and now I see him in everyone I can save now.” It’s close enough to the truth that it steals my breath. I quickly look away, not wanting Wade to read my emotions.
“Fine,” he eventually says. “Rest now. Supply run. And then we part paths. Neither of us owe the other anything. If we run into trouble, we help each other until we depart.”
“Great,” I say, suddenly feeling a bit too splayed open.
I lie down on the ground, using my backpack as a pillow.
I turn my back to Wade. I’m glad I was able to save him but the sooner I can be back on my own the better.
The last thing I need is to grow attached to someone I’m just going to lose.
I don’t wanna go through that again. In all honesty, I’m pretty sure that would be the thing to finally break me. “I’m gonna sleep til the sun comes up.”
I don’t wait for Wade to answer before closing my eyes and letting myself find rest.