Surviving Us

When It Came

I’m watching James in the corner of my eye. He’s trying to look at a tan coloured pair of shorts but I can sense he’s really watching me. I always know when he’s looking at me. Because when he does I get goose bumps, I feel giddy.

As I look up I see a man dressed in shabby clothes approach me. He looks homeless. He definitely seems sick and needs help immediately. But something about him doesn’t feel right. I can’t see his face yet so I try not to make myself known. I don’t want his attention. It wouldn’t be good. I can tell James is feeling just as anxious.

That when it screamed and looked straight in my eye and lurched itself at me. It body contorting with seizure like motions. Reaching for me. That’s when I took full notice of what I was looking at. His torn clothes weren’t because he was homeless but because something had attacked him. His body was mangled and flesh hanged from open wounds. He should’ve been dead. He looked dead. I scream in absolute terror. It lurches forward again but instead of grabbing me I’m pulled backwards instead into an embrace that I knew was familiar, James. He pushed me to the side, out of harms way. The man, that thing had then put his attention onto James. James grabbed a bar from one of the clothes racks and hit the man, the man only staggered and continued pursuing James. With one big hit James was knocked over only until there was enough time to pick up the bar which man drove himself into. James dropped the bar in shock. That’s when the screams of terror and death started. There was more.

People started running. Sprinting. Clashing into each other only to be caught. Caught and torn apart and bitten. James grabbed my hand and pulled me up fast.

“We need to get out of here! Ann! We need to go! Focus Ann.” He’s yelling at me because my focus is on the gore outside and not on us escaping. Eventually he just put me over his shoulder and carried me out of the store. As I hang upside down I can see the people on the floor crying for help with those monstrous people on top of them pinning them down. We found a corner into a hallway that leads to exits and restrooms, James gently puts me down on my feet holding me by my upper arms to help keep my balance. He pushes me into the disabled toilet and locks the door.

We stand there close together holding each firmly. Holding, not embracing, breathing heavy and noses touching. Fear had drawn us to close for comfort.

I can feel him. Only him. I can’t hear them. Or the screams. I can only hear his rapid breathing and his hoarse voice as he hesitates to speak not sure of what to say. All I can hear is his movement, the rustling of his shirt as his chest rises and falls rapidly from panting.

“We need to move. I can’t carry you. I need to be able to protect both of us.” He says between breaths. All I can see is his lips. The way they form each word, each syllable. His beautiful lips. I nod.

James slowly creaks the door open trying to draw as little attention as possible. Just down the hall is the emergency escape. People had tried to reach it but clearly did not successfully get there. “James?”

“Yeah,”

“What now?” He grabs my hand and sprints to the emergency exit dragging me behind him. He lurches the door open bringing to much attention. The sun blinds us for a few seconds. As we try to make our bearings we can see the havoc outside. The building across from us held a Chinese restaurant now alight. The gas must have exploded. Cars have been abandoned or have collided into poles, trees, other cars, even buildings. Blood was splattered everywhere, and pools of where bodies used to lie.

I grab James wrist instinctively and he moves his hand to entangle his fingers with mine. We sprint to his suv that is in our favour of being untouched.