Plagued (18 page)

Mitch—still lagging behind and focused on his
aggressors—was now ten feet away from the Land Rover. He heard the engine start
up and turned back around in horror, realising they were leaving without him. In
his distraction, he didn’t see the body beneath his feet in time and his leg twisted
as made a last-minute attempted to leap over it. He let out a shrill screamed as
he fell to the floor.

“My leg! I think it's broken!” Mitch cried, trying
to pull himself off the ground. “Help me!”

The three infected were on him now and more joined
them; attracted by Mitch’s wails. They laughed like children with awesome
Christmas presents as they listened to his feminine screams for help. The three
inside the Land Rover stopped what they were doing and watched morbidly,
revving the engine ready to leave.

“Play!” an infected man yelled and pulled Mitch’s
leg. Mitch yelped like a dog as the infected man bit a hole in the flesh. Blood
poured from the wound and splashed all over the man’s face as he chewed on
Mitch’s leg meat. “Play!” he said, spitting blood from his mouth.

One of the infected was a young woman that had tried
desperately to escape but didn’t make it to the fence in time. Her clothes had
burned off in the fire. She jumped on Mitch, grabbed his other leg and took a
small bite from it, playfully mimicking her friend. Mitch let out a gurgled
scream and tried to bat her away with his fists but this just made her laugh
even more.

As the rest joined in, playfully nipping him all
over his legs and arms, Mitch looked to the Land Rover helplessly, seeing the
people inside watching him without sympathy. He knew they had no intention of
helping him. Mitch understood then—he was being judged for his sins. Not by
God, like the Bible had said, but by all the innocent people he had murdered
and raped, a few of which were now chewing on his legs. He laughed to himself.
It
came back to bite me in the ass
.

From the jeep, Annie saw Mitch look at her so she
gave him the finger. They watched in silence as the group of infected ripped
his fingers from his hand and chewed on them like sweets. One of the infected
had picked up a gas canister and threw it at him; squashing his head like a
watermelon. The infected jumped in circles in triumph at his accurate shot.

“That’s for Emily,” Sarah said, trying to push her
turmoil out of her head. She ripped a piece of material from her vest and tied
it around Mark's waist; the bleeding finally started to slow down. “We need to
go back to town, there’s one last thing I need to do.”

The drive back to Solitude was uneventful; the
hordes of infected that now filled the roads were too distracted by the orange
glow of the burning caravan site to pay them any notice. A few more heavy
explosions came from the camp and the sky in their rear-view mirrors was a mixture
of black and orange in the light of the approaching dawn. Smoke clouds swirled
in the sky.

“This is his fault,” Sarah muttered, between quiet
sobs, thinking of Emily’s horrific death.

“He’s dead now, baby. It’s over,” Mark said,
stroking her face and wiping a tear away with his hand.

“Not him,” Sarah said quietly, looking out of the
window, distracted by her thoughts.

Mark watched Sarah intently as she checked his
wounds, which thankfully were a lot less serious that they looked. His knees
would need a few stitches but were holding steady with the make-shift bandages
from their shirts. The bleeding had altogether stopped and he was beginning to
feel more like himself. He thought about telling Sarah there was no need to
keep checking him over, but he liked the feeling of her hands on his skin—it
comforted him.  

Her quietness worried him, he knew that Jack was
on her mind and it bothered him. He had noticed the difference in her attitude
when he and Annie had gone to rescue her—she was colder now. Not towards him,
but towards the situation. That nervous, self-conscious girl was gone. What had
Jack done to her?

They pulled into the village. Without streetlights,
the darkness gave the village an eerie feeling; the trees and rooftops were
silhouetted by the glowing orange sky over the camp-site. Black smoke plumes curled
in the sky and grew like a giant, mushroom cloud. It blew steadily towards the
village in the wind.

They pulled up outside the centre and helped Mark
out of the Land Rover; the colour was finally returning to his face.

Sarah turned to Annie. “Can I borrow the shotgun
for a while?”

Annie gave her the shotgun, and then walked
towards the front doors.

Holding back so Annie was in front of them, Sarah
turned to Mark and placed her hands on his chest.

“Mark. I don’t know what’s going to happen from
here on out but I just wanted you to know that I’m glad you found me that day
in the street.” She smiled up at him, a single tear rolled off her cheek.

“What’s going on Sarah?” Mark asked, in confusion.

“You’ll see soon enough.”

“Sarah,” he started quietly, putting his hand
through her hair and holding her face towards him. “You might be clumsy and
stubborn and you nearly get me killed
all
the time but I love you, and I
always will
.
”

 “I know.”

She took his hand and they went inside together.

~

There was a crowd around Annie as Sarah and Mark
entered the room, they hugged her and handed her blankets and drinks as she
tried to answer all of their questions.

Sarah found Jack standing by the window and nausea
hit her, as she thought about Emily’s story. She tried to shake off the thought
and regain her composure—she would need it. Since he was at the window, he
would have seen her and Mark outside, in each other’s arms. An old pang of fear
hit her again, as she momentarily worried about his reaction—but she pushed it
down into her stomach. She wasn’t scared of him. Not now.

Jack sneered at Mark as he saw them enter and then
—seeing Sarah—smiled a huge, toothy grin. Two days ago she would have been
fooled by that, but now she saw the maliciousness behind it. He rushed towards
her, his arms out dramatically, beckoning her to come to him.

“Sarah! You’re alive!” He said in a strange, high
voice. “I can’t believe it!”

People turned around to face them.

“Sarah!” her mother screamed and tried to run
towards her. Annie grabbed her gently by the arm and whispered something to her
that made her stop. Her parents looked on, perplexed. She gave Sarah a knowing
look.

 “Strange, considering you saw me just a few hours
ago. Duke sends his regards,” Sarah said, stepping away from his outstretched
arms.

“He told us Duke had killed you!” Her father
cried.

Jack froze and his smile slowly faded from his
lips. He lowered his arms slowly to his side and his eyes darkened.

“That’s the second time you’ve told them I was
dead, darling. I’m starting to think it was wishful thinking on your part,” Sarah
smirked at him, desperately ignoring the small spark of fear that ignited when
she looked at him. Old memories.

Jack opened his mouth to speak but Sarah
interrupted him.

“He,”
Sarah said, pointing at Jack, “made
deals with Duke knowing those women were to be butchered and raped. Because of him,
Emily was murdered tonight!”

There was commotion in the hall, people gasped and
cried at the news. Jamie held back Frank as he tried to lunge for Jack in blind
fury. They cursed and spat at him.

Jack ignored the uproar and concentrated on Sarah.
He tried to bring back his smile but he couldn’t hide his rage. He gritted his
teeth in a strange grin that reminded her of Duke.

“Baby, you have to understand. I had these people
to protect, and they needed
me. I’m sorry—”

“My daughter needed you, you bastard!” Sarah’s
mother shouted.

Jack shot her an angry glance then walked closer
to Sarah and tried to put his arms around her. She moved back a few steps and a
look of intense rage shadowed his eyes. “What is this really about, Sarah?” he
asked, rage building in his voice. “Are you leaving me for Rambo
over
here? Is that what’s going on?”

Sarah could feel his breath on her face. She
backed away again, trying to fight the rising fear in her chest. His cold,
angry eyes gave her a sense of déjà vu. She had seen this face many times
before.

“I left you a long time ago, Jack,” Sarah said,
loud enough for everyone to hear.

Jack looked startled for a second and he began curling
and uncurling his fists restlessly. “Then why did you spend the night fucking
me if you didn’t want me,
my love
?” he spat.

Sarah watched as Mark clenched his jaw, visibly
pained. A lump rose in Sarah’s throat but she forced it back down and held her
head high. Jack couldn’t see her vulnerable. “I didn’t know you then. But now I
do. I remember everything. Not just the day of the outbreak, but our whole relationship,”
Sarah said, the words giving her confidence.

Jack's hard stare faltered for a second, but he
recovered quickly. “You are crazy, you know that?” he said, playing the crowd. “We
were good together, we were strong.”

“No, we weren’t. I left
you that day. Do
you remember that
?
The day the virus took over, I left you locked in the
house and I ran away,” Sarah said, beginning to yell. “Do you want to tell them
why, Jack?”

Jack's face turned red, his eyes glared at her
intensely and his top lip curled upwards into a snarl.

“That never happened!” Jack said through gritted
teeth. “You’ve been through a lot. If you come back to me now then we can
forget this whole thing ever happened,” he said, trying to smile.

“Oh, it happened alright. I knew something wasn’t
right about you but I couldn’t remember what. Now I can and everything makes
sense! The reason you never came for me and why you told my family and friends
that I was dead! Twice!”

“Don’t do this, baby,” Jack whispered to her, his
fists curled tight at his side.

“I’m not scared of you anymore….and I’m not your
baby.”

Sarah turned to face the crowd.  “I wasn’t here
during the outbreak because I ran away from him!” she said loudly.

Jack tried to grab her but she held up the shotgun
and pointed it at him. He backed off in surprise.

“He’s not the man you all think he is,” Sarah continued.

“Sarah,” Jack warned, his eyes bright with rage.

“Jack Archer beat me to a pulp that afternoon,
because I went to town with my friends. I wouldn’t let him control me and he
didn’t like it, so he knocked the living shit out of me. And it wasn’t the
first time,” Sarah exclaimed.

The crowd gasped and her father swore at him
loudly. Jamie held him back but was snarling at Jack himself.

“She’s lying!” Jack accused and tried to laugh it
off. “She’s fucking lying!”

“It’s true! He did the same to my best friend
weeks ago, she told me! She’s not here to testify so I will have to do it for
her. He beat her and he raped her because she wouldn’t do what he wanted her to
do. The same thing he did to me for over a year.”

“I’ll kill you!” Mark shouted and ran at him.

Sarah tried to stop them by standing between them,
but Jack pushed her out of the way and she dropped the gun on the floor.

Mark punched Jack in the mouth and he fell to the
ground, blood dripping from his lip. He went for Jack again but Sarah grabbed
his arm. As he tried to free himself from Sarah’s grasp, he yelled, “You
bastard, you’ll never fucking touch her again!”

 “Stop,” she whispered. “You’re not like him.
Please.”

Mark stopped dead, completely disarmed.

“Mark!” Annie screamed in the crowd.

Jack had taken his knife from his belt and was walking
to Sarah. She turned around to see what was happening as he grabbed her by the
hair, pulling her backwards away from Mark.

“Get your fucking hands off of him,” Jack growled.

Mark ran for them but Jack spun her around and
held the knife to her throat. Mark stopped in horror. Her mother screamed in
the background.

“Let her go, Jack,” Mark said, as calmly as he
could. His heart pounded in his chest.

Jack backed himself around towards the exit door,
dragging Sarah with him. Members of the crowd ran towards him to help but as
they did, the knife pressed into her skin and drew blood.

“Back off!” Mark shouted at the crowd. “He’s going
to kill her!”

They backed away, her parents in hysterics.

“You shouldn’t have done this, Sarah,” Jack
growled. “I didn’t want to have to do things this way. You could have just done
as you were told.”

“I’ll never be yours to control, Jack. I never
was. Killing me now won’t change that,” she said, wincing in pain as blood
trickled down her neck.

“I think I might be able to change your might on
that.”

As he shoved the door open behind him, the knife
moved a fraction away from Sarah’s throat. She felt the change and grabbed his
hand, pushed it away from her neck, and leapt out under his arm.

“Fucking bitch!” Jack yelled and ran after her as
she ran towards Mark.

Jack lunged to grab for Sarah’s back and she felt his
hands grasp on her vest as he dragged her back towards him. She tried to wriggle
out of it but he grabbed her hair instead, getting a much firmer grip. He
pulled her towards him with a swift yank and pushed the knife to her throat
again, this time much tighter. He pulled her down to the floor, so she was
kneeling in front of him.

“You’ll always be mine,” Jack whispered in her
ear. He pressed the knife in her neck.

Sarah felt white hot pain at the side of her neck
a second before the shotgun came sliding across the floor, landing at her
knees. Without thinking, she picked it up and turned it over, aiming it at
Jack’s face behind her. Jack saw this and began pulling the knife across her
throat. Sarah screamed from the pain as she pulled the trigger.

The sound was deafening. The recoil from the gun
knocked her over and she fell to the ground; a high pitched whine filled her
head and her ear was in agony. She turned around weakly to see the damage. Jack’s
body—slumped on the ground with half of his head pulverized—was the last thing
she saw before she passed out on the cold, sports hall floor.