Infected

Jimmy held me close, trying to shield me from our surroundings, but I rolled my head to the side to see. Through my half open eyes, the bodies swam amidst the flashes of gunfire. Elodie lay sprawled, her fiery hair clumping into sticky strings, highlighted by blood. Her lifeless eyes brought me no comfort - nothing could soothe the burning agony radiating from my chest.
“Lincoln,” I mumbled, trying to see him through the blur that was descending over my vision.
“What?” Jimmy asked, “What did you say?”
“Where’s Lincoln?” I tried again, using every ounce of energy I had to get the words out.
“I don’t know, Marina,” Jimmy admitted, slowly, “but everyone that was here is dead.”
I tried to peer out into the crowded bodies, but my vision had become too distorted, and once again a darkness clouded my sight.

Dimly lit, a rumbling hum, gentle motion. The van… we’re in the van. I fought to open my eyes and focus. I was still in Jimmy’s arms, and someone was sat opposite, leaned over me. Her chestnut complexion was paled, and her dark ringlets hung around her in a worried frenzy. Hallie.
“Hal,” I murmured through my short breaths, shakily reaching a hand out. She snatched it up with a little whimper and squeezed it tight.
“Auntie Maz,” she sobbed, “I’m sorry. I should have gotten to them faster. I’m so sorry. Please be okay.”
I shushed her, wincing as another wave of pain spiked out from the burning. I could feel my mind becoming clearer, more resilient against the cutting sting. I almost longed for the relief of unconsciousness again, but my brain was beginning to hold out and work against the pain.
“Jimmy,” I whispered, scrunching my face up as the burning heat from my wound seemed to increase tenfold by the second. He looked down at me, his features pulled into a concerned frown. Breathing through the stinging, I spoke very slowly. “In my pack, pain killers. I need them.”
Matt’s voice chimed in, “I’m on it.”
“Fuck,” Jimmy cursed under his breath, shakily. “Fuck. I can’t do this again, Matt.”
“Yes you can, Jimmy. Fucking work through it,” he replied, sternly. Jimmy grimaced as he looked down at me, taking in my wound. It was blistered and crusted at the edges, where the skin had burnt to a crisp, and was already weeping from the rawness of the trenches. It was distracting enough that I wasn’t really registering anything they were muttering to each other.
My body began to involuntarily shudder as I started processing what had happened to me. I could hear Matt digging through my pack that Hallie had managed to save from the school.
“Are you okay?” Jimmy asked, concern etched into his face. “I mean obviously you’re not, but are you?”
“Helpful question, Rev,” Zach piped up from the corner, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Seriously?” Jimmy spat, shooting him a scowl. Zach cringed away from it.
“Sorry, that was fucking stupid of me,” he apologised, sheepishly, soothing Jimmy’s ruffled feathers. I let out the hitched gasp I’d been holding in, as the heat in my wound grew. Jimmy’s face immediately lined with concern.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice wobbling with anxiousness.
“I need fucking pain killers, that’s what’s wrong,” I whimpered, frustration seeping into my tone. Bitter tears pricked at my eyes as I curled up tighter, trying to hide from the pain. “It hurts so bad.”
Jimmy’s face twisted, “I don’t know what to do. Can’t you find anything, Matt?”
“I’m looking,” Matt snapped, digging through the bag more frantically.
“Look harder,” Jimmy retorted impatiently.
“Hallie,” I croaked with a wince, immediately bringing a halt to their bickering. “I need to tell you, I love you. I know it might not seem that way sometimes, but I swear I do, more than anything else in this world. I just want you to know that you’re like a daughter to me. Your mother would be so proud of you right now.”
“Stop talking like you’re dying,” she blurted, looking alarmed. “You’re not, right? Tell me you're not.”
I didn’t answer her. The truth was, I wasn’t sure if I was going to live through this. I didn’t want to say it to her, or Jimmy (who was now looking rather panic-stricken at my speech), but in my foggy memory, I had an inkling that burns often came with shock, infection, sepsis… all things that we had no way of combatting. The best I could do was take the far-too-weak antibiotics we had at home and hope for the best. Hallie’s wide eyes brimmed with tears.
“Auntie Maz,” she began, quietly, “I love you too. Mom would have… she’d be grateful for everything you’ve done for me, just like I am.”
She leaned into Zach, who wrapped a comforting arm around her as she started sniffing. I felt Jimmy subconsciously hold onto me a little tighter, and even in my current state, the butterflies in me gave a little flutter of appreciation for his affection.
“Will these do anything?” Matt asked, finally digging out a box of oxycodone pills from the bottom of the pack.
“Yes,” I gasped out in relief. “Those will work.”
Jimmy took the blister pack from Matt’s fingers and wasted no time in handing me a dose. I swallowed them down and curled up tighter in his arms, waiting impatiently for them to work.

“Are you ready?” Matt asked, his face screwed up in anticipation of the pain.
I nodded, squeezing my eyes shut in preparation. We’d stopped at a gas station, and it had been raided of as much as we could lay our hands on that might help. I was currently sat on the gritty floor between Jimmy’s legs, with his arms wrapped around me to try and keep me still. Matt was knelt in front of me, a bottle of vodka in hand. I had a small audience of Zach and Hallie sat either side of me also, their faces mirroring my dread at the impending sting the alcohol was going to bring.
“Okay,” Matt breathed out with a wince as he tilted the bottle. “I’m really sorry, Marina.”
I cried out as the clear liquid hit my raw flesh. Tensing up, I pushed back into Jimmy, who held fast, handling my writhing with ease.
“Oh my god,” I gasped out, as Matt apologised over and over, pulling the bottle away. A sob forced its way from my throat as I fell limply forward, trying to breathe through the overwhelming sting.
“You’ve got this, I've got you,” Jimmy whispered into my ear, stroking my hair with his free hand. My breath came in short, sharp gasps as I leaned myself back into him, gritting my teeth. Our mediocre attempt at disinfecting the wound had almost hurt as badly as the branding had, and as a result I was feeling weak.
“Saran Wrap now?” Matt asked, wiping the nervous sweat from his brow. I managed a fraction of a nod as Jimmy helped me forwards again. He helped me slide the itchy green fabric down from my shoulders, his fingertips brushing lightly against my bare skin as he did so. His touch made my heart skip a beat, a welcome reminder that I wasn’t quite at Death’s door just yet. I lifted my arms as much as I could, whilst also trying to hold a small amount of material against my chest. Jimmy and Matt got to work winding the plastic wrap around my upper torso. The pressure against my raw skin was nauseating, and I felt the colour drain from my face as my mind began fuzzing again. Jimmy obviously noticed my paling as well, because he paused their clumsy first aid demonstration in concern.
“Are you okay?” he asked, eyeing the beads of sweat that were forming across my forehead.
“I’m just a little lightheaded,” I insisted, slurring slightly as my skin prickled with the cool flush of dizziness. “Just keep going.”
Jimmy and Matt looked at each other with furrowed brows, hesitant to continue.
“Auntie Maz, you really don’t look so good,” Hallie offered unhelpfully.
“Just get it done,” I ordered, as firmly as I could manage in my state.
Painstakingly, the two men continued passing the wrap back and forth between each other a few more times as they wound it tightly.
“That’s enough,” I muttered, as they wrapped a third layer around me. I hung my head and leaned back against Jimmy again, trying to get my bearings.
“Are you sure about this stuff?” Matt asked, pulling a face at the thin plastic dressing that I was now sporting. I shimmied the itchy material back up my arms and nodded.
“It’s the best we can do,” I replied in between deep breaths, “but, Jesus. I really need something else to wear. I don’t want to spend any longer in this psycho shit.”
“We’ll be home before long,” Jimmy reassured me, “and then, we’ll get you anything your heart desires. Within reason, of course. Don’t you dare ask for a poncho.”
I smiled weakly at his attempt at humour as I allowed him to help me to my feet and walk me back to the van. It suddenly dawned on me as the small crowd trailed behind us that I’d not seen Brian since we’d left Adam’s lair, or Johnny for that matter. Neither of them had appeared during our stop - unless you included Johnny poking his head out of the window briefly to lay demands on Zach to find whiskey. My thoughts fluttered briefly to Brian’s callous execution of Adam. It had been merciless. An act of vengeance, I was certain, but why? What had happened? My injury’s stinging protest of the first aid we’d administered brought me back into the present, putting on hold my curious exploration of the events of the past.

The drive home passed quickly for me, despite taking hours. I spent much of it sleeping, lulled by the narcotic pain relief and the gentle motion of the van. I only stirred when we’d stopped, and the creaking of the rusty gates opening alerted me that the comfort of home was not far off. Jimmy noticed my eyes fluttering open and helped me to sit upright.
“We’ll get you inside where you can rest soon. You're not looking so good,” he pursed his lips in worry as he looked me over. I couldn’t imagine that was untrue, given that I felt like absolute shit. The van rolled to a stop, and Jimmy pulled one of my arms around his shoulders.
“You ready?” he asked, bracing himself to lift me.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, wincing as he helped me to my feet. We took it slowly, treading back the house as gently as we could. I held myself rigidly; my skin felt as though it was shrinking around the raw letters on my chest, and the tiniest movement felt as though it was ripping me open again. I gritted my teeth and sweated through the pain as we moved forwards, trailing behind the others.
We eventually stepped through the front door of the house, much to my relief. Jimmy began to help me towards my room when Hallie piped up from beside us.
“Wait,” she called out, hesitating as we looked over at her. “Auntie Maz… do you…”
I looked at her expectantly as she trailed off, “What, Hal?”
“Do you want to come back upstairs?” she asked, flushing slightly as she looked away.
“Are you kidding?” I smiled weakly, only wishing I could manage a beaming grin. “If you’ll have me, I’d love to... but maybe downstairs is best for now, though? I kind of suck at walking.”
“You do suck at walking right now,” she agreed, as Jimmy snickered. Well, thanks, you two.

Jimmy helped me stagger into my room and over to the bed. He lowered me down onto it and sat next to me, anxiously drumming his fingers against his knees.
“Are you feeling okay?” he asked, eventually. “Like, okay okay?”
“I don't know. I guess so, under the circumstances” I answered, tilting my head as I looked over at him. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay. Are you okay?” He looked up at me, a faint glimmer in his eye. My chest was stinging with a burning heat and nausea was creeping in, accompanied by the realisation that I was scarred forever; but for a fraction of a second, that twinkle made me completely forget. For a moment I was blissfully unaware... and then it all came flooding back. The realisation that I was fighting against the odds prickled at me.
“Jimmy,” I began, heavy heartedly, “if I don’t survive this-”
“Don’t say it,” he cut in, looking at me with an unfathomable sorrow emanating from the depths of his eyes. “I can’t do it again.”
I lowered my voice, “I don’t understand. Do what again?”
“I…” he faltered, his lips pulling down at the corners. “It doesn’t matter. Just don’t go anywhere, promise?”
“You know I can’t promise that,” I replied, quietly. “I can’t, Jimmy.” He gave me a pained look.
“Marina, don’t you feel this?” he asked, reaching his hands over to mine. I tried to whip my hands out of the way, but he grabbed them quickly.
“Jimmy, don’t do this now,” I pleaded. “This is fucking hospital level shit, and we don’t have a hospital. If I die-”
“Stop fucking saying that,” he argued, screwing up his face. “Listen to me, ever since I met you, since I watched you fucking shuffling that chair along the hallway like a fucking idiot-”
“Not winning me over here,” I laughed, weakly, taking my turn to interrupt. He smiled sadly at my quip.
“Marina,” he persisted, squeezing my hands. “There’s something about you, about us. All this shit has happened and all this time I’ve just been living through it, but then you turned up.”
“Jimmy,” I whispered, trying to stop him, but it only spurred him on.
“Everything feels different… More vivid, more colourful. I feel like I’ve got blood pumping through my veins again,” he paused, his icy blue eyes piercing into me. “Don’t you feel that too?”
I tried to speak. I wanted to tell him to stop, to not fall right now, but I couldn’t. I wanted to deny him for his own good, but I couldn’t. I wanted to protect him from the inevitable heartache, but I couldn't. So, I did the only thing that felt right. I leaned into him, planting my lips softly against his, just for a second.
I pulled away, gazing deeply into his eyes, getting lost in the ocean of his eyes.
“Of course I feel it,” I whispered, leaning my head into his. He let me rest against him for a couple of seconds before pulling away from me.
“Jesus,” he gasped, quickly placing the back of his hand against my forehead. “You’re fucking hot… Are you feeling okay?”
I became aware of the thin prickle of sweat over my skin and the way my heart was racing.
“I’m not sure,” I murmured, gently touching at the site of my injury. The heat was radiating through the plastic wrap as the letters beneath burned away. Jimmy’s mouth twisted into a grimace as he helped me lay down.
“We need antibiotics for you, but I don’t know if we’ve got the right kind,” he fretted, as he began to pace back and forth.
“Just get anything,” I urged, trying to follow him as he moved around the room.
Jimmy stopped pacing, looking over at me forlornly, “Marina… please don’t go anywhere.”
I closed my eyes, letting the swirling colours beneath my lids dance.
“I won’t.”

Notes