One.....Natasha
It’s a hot summer day and the rotted smell from all the trash increases with the unrelenting sun. The stench of sulfur makes me want to gag; instead, I hold my scarf over my face to buffer the smell. Sweat beads on my brow as I walk along the roads, adjusting my small backpack on my shoulders. I wipe my hair out of my face and try to keep the sun out of my eyes. As I walk along the road, I keep my eyes open and search the piles of trash for anything edible. In a world where food is in short supply, one doesn’t pass up the opportunity to get some. People are always hungry and thirsty; the poor nutrition makes it difficult to survive. To fight off the infected, or as we call the Lycans.
I was thirteen when my parents were ‘killed’ by lycanthrope fever. I say killed because thinking about what actually happened to them is too painful. Because for all intents and purposes, my parents are dead. Somehow, I was shown mercy in not catching the fever, I don’t understand it but maybe there is a reason I was left alive. It was the beginning stages of the fever then, we still had homes and grocery stores. We still had airports and hospitals; I remember when people only had to deal with littering when walking through the streets. Boy how things have taken a turn, now people walk past mountains on top of mountains of garbage and debris.
Seattle used to feel like my home, now it feels like I am a wild animal trapped in a cage. I feel as though I am always watching my back, waiting for a group to raid all my belongings. It’s why I left the camp I was previously in when all of this started. Big groups tend to attract more attention than individuals. It helps we can’t take more than we can carry, so we can pass as unsuspecting wanderers.
Turning the corner, I come to see an old convenience store, even though the side has started to crumble it’s still in good condition. My eyes stare at it hungrily as my mouth starts to water and my stomach rumbles with hunger. I am not foolish enough to believe this place could be untouched, but there is a sliver of hope I have found my oasis. I quicken my pace but stop abruptly when I hear a set of voices. I look around frantically for a hiding place, my heart pounding. It’s been months since I made contact with another human being, I wasn’t ready then and I sure ain’t ready now. I look once more finding a pile of trash nearby and dive behind it right as two figures come from the distance.
I can hear them talking but I can’t make out what they are saying. I look around the wall of debris and see a man and woman standing in front of the convenience store. I close my eyes and take a deep breath trying to calm my racing heart. Feeling stuck where I am, if I move, I risk them seeing me and who knows what this group will do if they see me. Sometimes it’s better to be safe than sorry, I know that from my last group. They don’t take mercy on anyone; I was the exception because I was dating their leader at the time. They were so cruel; I couldn’t take being with them anymore. I have the scars to prove it.
“Vincent, do you think they have any candy? Man, I haven’t had sour candy in years.” A woman’s voice says, and I can hear the man scoffing and the scraping sounds of moving scrap. I chance a peek from behind the debris and see the man giving her an incredulous look. I lean back behind the wall before they see me, my heart pounding in my ears and a cold sweat starting. Can’t they just get their stuff and go already? I really don’t want to be here. I think to myself as panic courses through my veins.
“Really? The world has gone to shit and sour candy is what you’re worried about?” The man asks and I stumble backward when a dizzy spell muddles my senses as I fall backward through the pile of debris and paper. I land on my back with a thud, and I grunt, shielding my eyes from the harsh sunlight. I hear the woman gasp as I see the man reach for the gun at his hip. I look up and meet his eyes, the most striking green I have ever seen. I take a deep breath and brace myself for what’s to come. Praying for them to show me mercy.
“Vincent. She’s not a Lycan. If she was, she would have attacked us.” I hear the woman say as she stays his hand, and he turns his calculating gaze towards her for a brief moment. “She isn’t well, Vincent. Radio ahead, we can always use more scavengers.” She whispers and I feel myself slowly growing weaker and feel my eyes getting heavy. My head throbs and spots danced along my vision. I start to get scared and try to move to keep myself awake. I don’t want to pass out with these strangers near me.
“Shoot! she’s bleeding!” I hear the gruff voice of Vincent before a high pitch squawk “Prepare a bed for the infirmary. Bringing an injured girl. Doesn’t show any signs of being infected.” He says and I panic, there is no way in heck I am going to their camp. I can’t go through that again. I won’t go through that again. I try to sit up and get away, but I am too weak, and I start to become more afraid. What in the world is happening to me? Am I that hurt? Wait, he said I was bleeding, why would I be bleeding? Unless I hit my head on the concrete, is that why my head hurts like a bitch?
My eyelids start drooping and I give up on fighting them as I stare at the dark-colored sky. The sky becomes even darker as the spots become larger by the minute. My eyes start to close as I feel an arm slip behind my back and under the bend of my knees. “Ma’am, I need you to keep your eyes open. You can’t go to sleep yet; you need to get checked out soon.” He tells me as he carries me to their hideout, and I feel weightless in his arms. I groan and struggle to focus on him, noticing his green eyes and jet-black hair. He looks down at me and offers a small smile. “We’re almost there. Just hang on.” He says and I try to reassure him that I can make it there without passing out, but I start feeling lightheaded and I can’t seem to care anymore.
“I’m sorry. . . I can’t.” I tell him and his eyes widen as my eyes start to close and I feel myself starting to go limp. The fight leaving me in a heap in this guy’s arms. I don’t want this, but I am too weak to protest. I am afraid to get into his camp and be treated. I don’t want this to be like how Ian was, abusive and manipulative. I am scared to put my trust in someone else again when the world has taught me that the only person, I can trust is myself. Even if this Vincent guy is hot.
