I watched as Alma carefully took Vera's arm and began to dab at the blood with a towel. My stomach twisted as I saw the bright red liquid seep through the cloth. I had done that to her. It was because of me that she was in pain. Vera held perfectly still and didn't resist as Alma began to bandage the wound.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Blake glaring at me. My heart was sinking deeper and deeper into my chest with every passing moment. What could I do? What could I say to make things better? One thing was certain; I owed Vera an apology. I edged myself closer to her, moving as slowly as I could. But my footsteps sounded heavy in the quiet of the house.
"Vera," I whispered gently. She didn't answer me. "I'm sorry that I hurt you. Please forgive me." I added. Still no reaction of any kind. There was nothing but a dull and distant look on Vera's face. This was the look that her face always seemed to carry nowadays. This pale and distant Vera was so very different from the relaxed and caring girl that I had first met. "Vera, look at me."
I reached out to rest my hand on her shoulder, but she pulled away from me. For a moment, fear filled her eyes before fading into that dullness. Instantly, I drew back. What was I doing? Of course she didn't want me to comfort her. She probably wanted me to stay as far away from her as I possibly could. I felt Blake grab my arm and yank me back.
"Leave her alone, Sadie! You're the one who did this to her! But you have the audacity to ask her to forgive you!" Blake shouted. She grabbed my shoulders and shook me hard. Fresh tears welled up in my eyes. Desperately, I tried to fight them back and hold them in. But it was no use.
"Blake, let her go!" Alma called out.
"Now you're crying. Look around you! You're the one who created this mess! You're always the one who does the most damage! I wish that the inspectors would just get it over with and take you away. We'd all be better off that way!"
"Okay that's enough!" shouted Alma, shoving herself in front of me. "Think about what you're saying for a second, Blake. Think about what your life used to be like. Think about every little thing that happened to you. Think about what the inspectors did to you! Then tell me honestly, do you really want someone else to go through that?" All the color seemed to drain from Blake's face. Anger, sadness, and then fear filled her eyes. Then at last, a strange expression crept across her face. It was an expression that I wasn't used to seeing Blake of all people carry. Finding the words to describe it is impossible. Blake just looked like a completely different person for a moment.
"N-no," she said at last. How small her voice sounded. All of the harsh gruff rasp that I was used to had left her tone. Blake didn't apologize. In fact, she didn't say anything to me. I didn't expect her to. But she looked at me with a sympathetic and pitying look. That was the closest I would ever see Blake come to an apology. I turned to Alma, unsure of what to say. Only she could silence Blake like that. How did she do it? Alma must be magical.
"Okay," said Alma stepping back. "None of you have eaten yet, right?" We hadn't. I hadn't realized just how hungry I had been until now. A sharp pain shot through my stomach, and it let out a low moan. "Blake, you and Sadie will go hunting and bring back some food while I stay here with Vera. It's okay if you don't find much. Just bring back whatever you find, and we'll eat it together," Alma went on. Now she had her 'let's all shut up and pretend that we're besties or else' look on her face.
"Outside," said Vera suddenly. Everyone turned to her. "Can we eat outside?" she whispered.
"Of course. I think all of us could use some fresh air," said Alma. A small smile appeared on Vera's pale face.
"A-alright," I said. "We'll come back as soon as we can," I added. She smiled at me. Blake was already walking towards the door. She didn't say a word. She just headed out into the fog without once glancing back. I followed, at a safe distance. Hunting had never been my favorite task. But there were certainly worse parts of being infected. It was so strange to think that I had once actively enjoyed eating cooked meat. How strange that seemed to be now. How anyone could enjoy such vile food was beyond me now.
Cooking it burned out all the freshness and left the meat tough and dry. Even though I didn't like having to kill for food, it was still better than eating that nasty stuff that the supervisors had fed us in the quarantine zone. I made my way through the woods as quietly as I could. I strained my ears, listening for any sign of life. Way off in the distance, I could hear the distinct sound of Blake's footsteps. She had probably already caught something and was bringing it back to the shack. Blake had always had a quick hand. Not to mention, she didn't seem to mind killing things.
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So why was it that she did less damage than me when she went into zombie mode? She did do a lot of damage of course, her superhuman strength made sure of that. But she had not yet tried to eat any of the other girls. I had tried about 15 times. Great, now I felt like throwing up and crying again. It was bad for me to think about things like that.
I turned my attention back to the task at hand. My mind filtered out the sound of Blake's footsteps and focused on all the other noises around me. An icy cold breeze stung at my cheeks and tugged at my short, dark hair. I could hear the wind gently whispering in the trees above me. The river could also be heard clearly from here. The soft lapping of waves on sand was a truly soothing sound. When I strained my ears harder, I could hear the hum of electricity that came from the wall which surrounded our forest.
Then, very faintly, far beyond that, I could hear the sounds of a city. I could hear the sounds of cars driving and people talking. Only a few years ago, I had lived in a city like that. Now, these sounds seemed strange and alien to me. A pang of sadness shot through my heart. So, so much had changed since then. I had changed. My friends had changed. Humanity had changed. There wasn't a single thing in this world that the plague hadn't changed.
But I didn't get a chance to dwell on my self-pity because the sharp caw of a crow broke the stillness. It was nearby; I could tell. My feet carried me through the dense undergrowth and towards the sound. I couldn't afford to hesitate. I had no choice but to go straight for the kill. Now I felt as if I was flying. Across fields, past streams and up into the branches of a tall pine I ran. Before I could even understand what was happening, I had it. The dark bird lashed out at me, aiming right for my eyes. But I was too fast for it. With a loud crack, the bird was defeated. I just sat there for a moment, looking at it.
Blake was right about one thing; I spent far too much time crying about my meals. I probably spent too much time crying about many things. But it was I who had taken this bird's life. It would never fly again because of me. The feeling was sickening and sweet at the same time. The fact that I had destroyed a life was sickening. Yet, this was one of the few times when I felt in control of my own power. Hunting was something I chose to do, and I was good at it. It wasn't something that was forced on me.
After a little bit of crying and sniffling, I managed to tear my eyes away from the limp body. The others were waiting for me, and they were probably hungry. Alma had given me a job to do. It was my responsibility to help feed the group. I swung myself down and started back towards the shack. The others were waiting for me by the river. They must have known that I was planning on passing it.
"Another crow; it seems like the forest has been full of them lately," Alma remarked. I sat down next to her.
"Aren't crows a sign of bad luck?" Vera asked softly. "Like in the poem?"
"What poem?" I asked.
"Wasn’t there a poem about a crow, or a raven,” said Blake.
"I didn't know you liked to read poetry,” Alma said.
"Ooooh, that poem," I said. "I can see why Blake would like poems like that. It's very depressing and confusing. Just like you Blake." To my surprise, Blake flung back her head laughing. I had been a little afraid to make that joke. Jokes were things that Blake could take. Anything else was a lethal trigger for her. Alma was smiling to now. We passed the two crows to her, and she began to pluck the feathers out.
"What is the opposite of that?" Vera asked.
"Do you mean happy poetry?" I asked. "I'm not sure, I don't know enough about poetry. To be honest, I'm not sure I've ever read a poem all the way through."
"There's no such thing as happy poetry. I thought the whole point of poetry was to be all dark and depressed," said Blake. Now everyone was laughing. I loved moments like these, moments where we all felt happy. I lived for these moments of laughter and silliness. Alma began dividing up the meat and passing it out to each of us. My stomach growled once again. We would probably feel better with some food in our stomachs.
"There are lots of happy and hopeful poems out there," said Vera. "Just think about how many poems have been written about love," she said.
"Do you know any happy poems?" asked Vera. Alma frowned and looked thoughtful for a moment.
"Not that I can think of off the top of my head," Alma said at last. I lifted the crow meat to my mouth and took a huge bite. The meat was soft and cool and juicy. The flavor and freshness filled my mouth. Instantly, I felt more relaxed.
"There is no need to be snappy, I made a poem that is happy," said Vera quietly.
"Great, there's some happy poetry for us to all enjoy," said Alma brightly. More laughter rose up from my little group. It was almost as if we were friends again. Soon all the meat was gone. But we stayed by the river, watching the sun set. Soon the sky was filled with twinkling, glittering stars. The chilly air had become bitterly cold. But no one left. We all just huddled closer to each other for warmth. My eyes closed and I rested my head on Alma's shoulder. It used to be like this all the time. If only I could travel back in time. A bitterness crept over my heart while a smile crept over my face.
Things could always be worse. At least I wasn't alone. The only thing I could imagine that could be worse than putting up with the others would be putting up with myself. I felt Vera slip her arm around my shoulder. She was smiling at me now. I smiled back. This was her own silent way of telling me that she didn't blame me. I turned my gaze to the glittering sky above. Right now, the past didn't matter, nor did the future. I didn't care about what was to come or what had happened. All that mattered was that I was happy in this moment, and I wasn't alone.