Victoria's Journal

May 22nd 2020

Morning arrived without apology. Sunlight poured through the truck’s windows, bright and relentless, turning sleep into a shallow, painful thing. My arm had throbbed all night, a dull ache that never quite let go.

I sat up slowly, breath careful, eyes scanning the parking lot through the glass.

“Quiet,” I murmured. “Good.”

This morning was better than the last. Yesterday had been a nightmare, one that ended badly. With my arm the way it was, I knew I wouldn’t be fighting anything off. Staying in the truck was our best chance. Staying close.

I let Robin sleep while I went through our supplies. It didn’t take long. We never had much. When she woke, she helped where she could, small hands sorting, counting, trying to be useful.

Breakfast was stale bars and water. Better than nothing. She climbed into the passenger seat afterward, working through school papers we’d grabbed before everything went wrong. Watching her like that almost felt normal.

Almost.

The parking lot was empty when I looked up. Too empty. I stepped out of the truck for air, leaving the door open so it could reach her too. My arm screamed, but breathing helped. I wish I’d paid more attention. Wish I’d noticed the low growl under the truck.

The scream came too late.

If my arm hadn’t been broken, maybe I could have pulled it away in time. Maybe I could have stopped it from sinking its teeth into her leg. I heard the crack of her foot slamming into its face as I lunged, dragging the thing free. It stumbled. Fell.

I jumped back into the truck and slammed the door, pulling her against me.

Blood soaked the seat. Tears soaked us both.

I wrapped the blanket around her leg as tightly as I could, hands shaking. I already knew. She didn’t have long. Soon, she would be one of them.

I stayed, and we drove.

I watched the light leave her eyes and watched warmth fade to cold in my arms. It took hours. When she came back, it wasn’t her anymore.

Still buckled in, she strained toward me, snapping, hunger, and hatred burning where her joy had lived.

Every instinct screamed at me to run.

I didn’t.

I had promised to protect her. I had failed.

Tears blurred everything as I spoke to her one last time.

“Robin… I’m sorry. Truly.”

Then I offered her my broken arm.

The pain ripped a scream from my throat, echoing across the empty parking lot. I smiled as I pulled away, knowing I wouldn’t be alone much longer.