Chapter Seventeen : Cassie

It’s been days since I last showered--not that I ever bothered to shower regularly before to begin with. But now, after wading through hordes of the undead, I’m so covered in dried-up blood that I want to peel my skin off. My own, I can live with. But this? This is the blood of strangers. Strangers I killed. Strangers who used to be people.

Mrs. Lockwood was kind enough to let me use her shower, and for that, I owe her big time. I step under the spray, and for a moment, I just stand there, letting the water carve slow trails down my body. It’s warm. Almost gentle. It doesn’t mirror what I’ve become.

I start scrubbing, harder than necessary, until my skin burns. The blood peels away in layers--rusty, dark, sticky. It runs down my legs in rivulets, pooling at my feet before spiraling into the drain. The tiles turn red. It should make me gag. It should feel like a crime scene.
But I just watch.
Hypnotized.
There’s something disturbingly beautiful about it--the swirl of red disappearing into nothing. It freaks me out a little, how calm I feel.
What is wrong with me?
Like, anything and everything
Fair enough.

Mrs. Lockwood let me borrow one of her husband's T-shirts and a pair of sweatpants. I’d washed Rath’s T-shirt last night and left it out to dry. Now I change into the fresh clothes, pick up Rath’s shirt on my way to the living room, fold it neatly, and shove it into my big bag. No wonder my shoulder hurts--I’ve been hauling around half a ton or something in there.

I help Mrs. Lockwood load the rations into a trolley and wheel it out to the garage. Their car’s parked inside. My bike, though, is still outside--right in the open. So I grab my chainsaw, brace myself, and step out to clear a path.

Once the way is safe, I hop on my bike. Emily pulls the car out of the driveway and onto the street. I told her to drive fast--zombies seem to love a good chase--and I match her speed as we take off.

She reaches her sister’s house not long after. A small horde has already started tailing us. I pull up beside her, rev the chainsaw, and start tearing through the crowd to clear a path for Emily and Jason. Emily runs to the door, pounding on it like her life depends on it--and it kind of does.

Her sister needs to open that door soon, because no matter how useful this chainsaw is, I can’t handle all these freaks at once. And with all the noise we’re making, more are starting to show up.

Emily knocks again, and the door finally flies open. I’m glad I made Jason wear a blindfold--what he would’ve seen might’ve scarred him for life. Her sister pulls them both inside in a flash. Emily tosses out a quick, frantic “thank you” before the door slams shut behind them.

Okay. Time for me to get back to my bike--preferably without getting bitten by one of these b******s.
A whole wave of them is already heading my way.
I grip my chainsaw and swing it wildly, carving out just enough space to push forward. If they had me surrounded from all sides, I’d be done for. Thankfully, they’re still scattered--gaps here and there I can slip through, keep moving, keep breathing.

I have to make it to my bike before this place is swamped. And I do. Barely. All thanks to this chainsaw… that Rath gave me.

I’m fighting tooth and nail, and somehow, still thinking about the one who got away. Not my fault he’s so...rememberable. Is that even a word?

I reach the bike, turn the key with one hand, chainsaw revving in the other, slicing through more of the undead as I go. But even I have limits.
Just as I’m about to break free, right when the road is almost clear--
A zombie sinks its teeth into my shoulder.
I scream, rage and pain boiling in my chest, but I don’t stop. I tear free, kick the thing off me, and floor the bike. The undead are on my heels, but I’m faster. I’m always faster.
Eventually, I lose them. Finally I can breathe without the stench of rot filling my lungs.

I got bit.
We certainly saw this coming. With the reckless way I’ve been living, it was bound to happen. I’ve wished for my life to end more times than I can count. But lately... I think I was starting to like it just a little, ever since the whole zombie fiasco began. Doesn’t matter now. There’s no going back. All that’s left is accepting my fate.

I’m going to turn soon.
So until then, I’ll live what little time I have left--to the fullest, with no regrets. But no matter how hard I try to focus on the now, my mind keeps going back to him. And this time, I let the tears fall. I’m going to die, after all--why bother holding in the tears? I ride fast, face damp, chest tight, trying not to choke on everything I’m feeling.

I don’t want to be outside when it happens. Don't want to be another zombie making life harder for the people still trying to survive. So I make a pit stop at one of the abandoned houses where I'll spend my final moments.

I go in and clear the few zombies inside. Then I sit. And think. Think about everything I’ve avoided because I always assumed I had more time.
I’m so tired.
Maybe it’s okay to sleep through the end. Maybe I don’t need to be awake for this part. So I lie down on the couch, let my body sink into the cushions, and close my eyes.

My life wasn’t perfect. But somehow, somewhere in the middle of the chaos, it got better. Even if just for a little while. Even if just because of one annoying, cocky b*****d who refused to leave me alone.
A small smile tugs at my lips.
Then the world fades to black.
My breathing slows.
I sleep.
Thank you for everything, Rath.