Chapter 1 - Morning Sickness
Corn. Why is there always corn?
I don’t even remembering eating anything that even resembled corn. The sound of the toilet flushing filled my ears as I swiped loose strands from my face. Wiping the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand, I pulled myself up. God, when did surviving zombie hordes also come with nauseating morning sickness?
Shifting up from the linoleum floor and away from the porcelain throne where I had just spilled my guts into, I took a seat on the side of the tub. My shoulders slumped as I let my head hang. My vision was spiraling out of control since this morning, and from the shifting light from the window, I calculated that it was around 3 pm. How the time flies when your busy out-heaving a Boomer.
It had been a total of two days since I last saw the people I was traveling with. Kova, I wasn’t so much worried about. The girl was emotional but she had a good head on her shoulders. An average civilian but one that learned quickly. If it had been any other circumstances, we could have been fast friends. No, who I was more worried about the younger boy, Kantaro. A pacifist as much as an unarmed civilian. He wasn’t going to last long alone. I only hoped that he had been smart and followed Kova.
The explosion had been a last second decision. It was stupid of me to not check under the vehicle. God, it was first year academy s**t! If I had only taken the time to look, we would still be- Damn. No, blaming wasn’t going to help anything now. I had to level my thinking. It’s only been two days. Kova was heading towards the coastline for a reason and I doubt it was to visit the Gettysburg battleground. Since then I had been slowly moving out, avoiding wasting ammo and drawing unneeded attention. There had only been one time when things looked like it was going to Hell.
My footsteps echoed on the tile floor of the bathroom as I moved to the bedroom of the apartment. I had taken shelter in small buildings here and there and high above the ground floor. Handling Smokers and Hunters were one thing; They gave themselves away with their hoarse calls and cries. But Tanks were another story completely and loved to hide in storage sheds and basements of structures. I had taken to roof hopping and sniping from a distance. Much safer.
Zipping up my boots and pocketing the small knives back into the under folds of the leather, I felt my stomach heave again. My hand pressed against my belly, my eyes shutting as I tried to control my throat muscles to shut down. I hadn’t been able to keep down my food very well ever since the injury I received at the jaws of an undead. I didn’t panic or stress over the idea of turning into one of them. I was s**t-filled scared that I would but I kept my cool in front of the others. The only thing that was keeping my wits about me was the heavy, reassuring weight in my breast pocket. Inside was a small vial that contained the cure to this disease…. I shouldn’t say cure. Vaccine. Small dose of the infection, made to make me immune.
Two vials to start with and now I was down to one. Just. One. And know my body was rejecting it. The virus curled and twisted my insides, making everything nauseating, food, water, ….air. My lungs burned with every inhale, relief in the exhale; throat convulsing, mouth desert dry. Tears burned my eyes, coughs racking my body. I grabbed a bottle, uncapping and forcing the water past my cracked lips, feeling it slither down my esophagus slowly.
I exerted a sigh in concentrated bursts before opening my eyes and staring at the closed door, knowing that the weak wood would only hold for so long. I collected my few things, mostly things that went bang or boom, my medical supplies dwindling to just a bottle of pills. Manufactured pharmaceuticals, taking the shape of a hand full of tablets; and yet to my throbbing head, it was a godsend. I knew I should wait, but I took a swig of water and with difficulty, swallowed those suckers down.
Just as I went to put my shotgun into its holster, I heard it. Little pitter patters of feet, then numerous thumps. Soon, I knew, it would become a thunderous roar of teaming and convulsing bodies. I look at the several gas tanks that I had piled at the door. Maybe I should have waited before I had taken those pills.
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