Apocalypse: The Dead Lives
Chapter 41: Fiesty

Chapter 41: Fiesty

MARCO

I stumbled into an empty McDonald’s and slumped into a booth near the door. Rotten food lay scattered on the floor. Blood was splattered all over the walls. The smell of decay was all around.

I carefully took the mask I was wearing off.

My chest rapidly moved up and down, my breathing was shallow as I rested my head against the cold leather behind me.

I tiredly rested a hand on my chest.

My aching chest.

The pain from my bullet wound made me break out into a fever. The wound’s not infected, I’ve been monitoring it.

Even though I was not fully conscious I knew that this pain was only temporary.

Two days ago I was shot in the chest. I received the medical treatment I needed and left right after.

I have given up on my soldiers.

I have given up on my father and what he believed in.

I gave up on my sister a long time ago. She was a coward and she left me alone with the wrath of our father.

I’ve given up on Hailey-Jade and what I thought we could become someday. She chose Ronan over me and I knew better than to keep pursuing her.

A rotter came stumbling out of the kitchen. It slowly made its way over to me. Its head violently started twitching to the side once my scent reached its nose.

As the rotter reached to attack me I boredly stuck a knife into its skull. Then listened to the body dropping to the floor.

I groaned out in pain before shifting in my spot a little. I slid my jacket off before staring up at the ceiling. My vision slowly blurred out.

Then, suddenly.

I heard a scream coming from outside.

"Somebody help!" A woman yelled in agony. I sunk lower into the booth I was sitting in, hoping not to be seen.

I was already trying my best to battle the NecroVirus. Dealing with another human being would be the end of me.

Footsteps started to approach me and I fought back the urge to groan out in frustration. I grabbed my gun from my waistband. I took the safety off before placing my finger on the trigger and aimed at the door.

The door swung open and in stumbled a blurry figure.

I pried my eyes open with much difficulty.

"Who’s there?" A familiar voice came. It was too dark to look at her but I’d recognize that voice anywhere.

"My fucking my," I grunted in disbelief before sitting upright and the room dawned in silence. Neither of us moved.

"Marco," she gasped out. She made her way over to the door again.

"Fiesty-" I called her and her hand stayed glued to the door handle.

"I won’t hurt you," I assured her.

"Pretend this never happened. Pretend that you never saw me." She blankly stated.

"You don’t have to leave, Hailey. You’re safer in here with me than out there with them." I told her and her hand dropped from the door handle.

She raised her axe all the way up to her chest before approaching me. Her eyes curiously scanned my body.

Her eyes fell on my chest and she rushed over to me.

"You’re bleeding." She muttered, her voice raw with panic and concern.

I placed my gun back into my waistband. I quietly watched as she took her pack off. She grabbed an emergency kit from it.

"How do I do this?" She softly asked herself with a puzzled look on her face.

"How do you take my shirt off?" I knowingly asked her and she pressed her lips together in a thin line.

"Just don’t try anything funny." She demanded, and I only smirked at her words. "Raise your arms." She uttered in a much gentler tone.

I clenched my jaw before raising my arms. I grunted in pain but kept my eyes on her. She carefully pulled my shirt over my head. Her eyes slowly ran over my chest. She bit into her bottom lip and proceeded carefully.

She cut the bandage wrapped around my chest loose with a pair of scissors. I wrapped my hand around her wrist before she could place the bandage on the table.

"Why are you helping me?" I asked her in confusion.

"I don’t know, Marco." She softly uttered.

She placed the used bandage aside. Followed by some bloody gauze.

"Your stitches have all come out." She uttered before grabbing something from her kit.

"Are you sure you know what you’re doing?" I asked her to make conversation.

"Yes, my dad taught me- when I was nine. So this might hurt a little." She uttered before dumping some alcohol onto her hands then a piece of cotton wool. She pressed it to my wound.

I froze up at the pain that shot up in my chest. Lucky for me it only lasted a few seconds.

"Hold onto something." She said before sticking a needle into my skin. I harshly gripped the edge of the table.

"A warning would’ve been nice," I muttered under my breath.

"You broke that tradition the day you sprung that rotter on me in your office." She shot back at me while stitching up the wounds on my chest.

"I’ll never hear the end of this, will I?" I tiredly asked her. She didn’t respond to me though.

"What are you doing here, Marco?" She asked after a while. "Shouldn’t you be in the city commanding your troops?" Her voice came, soft and laced with confusion.

"No. I’m no longer the commander of those troops." I blankly stated while curiously watching her reaction.

She seemed taken aback by what I had said. She seemed to be in a state of denial as she watched me.

"So this was all a coincidence and not part of one of your sick little games?" She asked a deep frown resting on her forehead.

"I don’t play games, Hailey-Jade."

Once she was done stitching up my wounds she gently started wrapping a bandage around my chest.

"Yes, you do. I was just a game to you in the beginning. A game that you couldn’t win. So you became obsessed. That’s all it ever was. An obsession." She reckoned and I quietly watched her.

"What are you doing out here by yourself? Where’s Ronan and the others?" I asked her to move the conversation away from me.

"None of your concern." She softly uttered.

She will open up to me. Eventually.