[Win – Shed, Forest Edge]
The shed's air is thick with dust and the faint tang of rust and the concrete walls are closing in like a coffin. Palm's breaths are shallow, ragged and his body is slumped on the tarps, his skin is slick with sweat.
I sit beside him with pipe still clutched in my hand and arm throbbing where the Basic bit me. The itch is worse now, deep under the skin like war happening, but I'm not turning. No black veins. No fever. No moans building in my throat. No symptom of turning like we saw in others.
I'm fine.
Perfectly fine.
And that's weird.
Nurse Mali kneels on his other side with her scalpel set aside and hands pressing his wrist then his forehead. Seeing her here, in this hell, feels wrong. She's mother of Lin who sacrificed for us afterall and she doesn't even know this.
"He's not stabilizing," she mutters, in low voice. " his pulse is erratic and infection's spreading." She glances at my arm, the bite marks red but clean. " On the other hand you're not showing any signs. Nothing at all."
I shake my head and in rough voice say,
"I'm healthy like it's not a bite from zombie but just a scratch."
Her eyes narrow, that nurse's gaze cutting through me.
"Healthy? You were bitten by one of those things. It was hours ago. You should be feverish by now, your veins should be turning black, like—"
She stops and swallows hard. "Like the ones I saw in the hospital."
I glance at my arm and flex my fingers. The sharp pain's there, but I'm standing. Breathing. Thinking. Analyzing.
"It didn't take," I say in stronger voice.
"I'm fine. Perfectly healthy. No fever, no shakes. I guess I'm not turning."
I stand up, pacing the small space, pipe in hand.
"Maybe it was a shallow bite. Or maybe I'm lucky. But I'm not like them."
She watches me and proceeds, "Lucky? Win, I've seen dozens turn. Bites like that whether it's small or deep, they all end the same. You're not turning because maybe you're immune? You know like that one korean drama of zombie apocalypse where some humans become half zombies and half humans?"
Immune. The word hangs in the air like smoke. I stop pacing and stare at her.
"Immune? You think I'm immune?"
My voice rises, sharp with disbelief.
"That's crazy. No one's immune. Everyone who gets bitten—"
"But not you," she cuts in, her voice steady but eyes fierce. "Look at Palm. He's burning up, his veins are darkening. But you? Nothing. Your body's fighting it off. You're healthy, Win. Perfectly healthy. Like you don't even have a bite."
I laugh—harsh, bitter.
"Healthy? Look around! The world's gone, and you think I'm healthy?"
Palm groans again while shifting weakly. I kneel back down, grabbing his hand. He's hot, too hot, his skin like fire. Mali leans closer with dropping voice. "Its a theory but maybe we can use that. Your blood. It might save him. I have a syringe we can inject it in Palm."
I pull back, heart slamming.
"My blood? You want to directly inject my blood into him?" The idea hits like a zombie's claw.
"No. That's insane. What if it kills him faster? What if it infects him?"
Her eyes flash. "It's not insane. It's a chance. You're immune, Win. Your body's producing antibodies or—or something that stops the turning. If we get that into Palm maybe it could halt the infection."
I shake my head while trying to stand again, with pipe tight in my grip.
"You don't know that. You're guessing it. What if my blood's wrong? What if it's toxic? And direct injection—blood to blood—that's harmful. Dangerous. You are a nurse so you should already know it could clot, or react, or—"
My voice rises, echoing off the concrete.
"I'm not risking him on a maybe!"
She stands too, scalpel in her fist her voice rising to match mine. "Risk? He's dying, Win! Look at him! His fever's spiking and his veins are blackening. He has hours or maybe less. This is the only shot we've got!"
I step closer, face to face with her.
"Only shot you say? You're not a doctor but a nurse! You don't know if my blood's clean, or if it'll even work. What if it turns him faster? What if it makes him like them? What if something worse happens to him?"
Her jaw sets and she says,"I'm the closest thing to a doctor you've got. And I've seen enough bites to know he's gone without help. And your blood, it's not harming you. It's saving you so why not try at him?"
I turn away, pacing again, the shed is feeling smaller then before like walls are pressing in. Palm's breath rattles, it's weak like he's fading with every word. My arm itches again deep, insistent but I'm still me. Still healthy. Perfectly healthy.
Her voice softens, but it's steel underneath. "Win, I lost enough kids to this. I can't and I won't watch another kid die if there's a chance they may survive."
I stop, my heart is twisting. She's Lin's mom. Of course. But Palm's not dying. Atleast Not today. I look at him and his face is pale with cracked lips and limp hand.
"I love him," I whisper in breaking voice.
"If this hurts him—"
"It won't," she says, stepping closer. "Trust me, it's his only chance."
I clench my fists and the pipe is digging into my palm. "Don't you know that direct blood is too dangerous. It could kill him."
She grabs my unbitten arm and locks her eyes on mine. "And doing nothing will make him a zombie. Look at him, Win. He has no choice. But you do. He'll die either way so why not take a chance."
The argument hangs between us, as thick as the dust in the air. Palm groans again but softer this time like he's slipping.
I close my eyes.
I have no other choice.
"Okay," I say, voice is barely there.
"Do it."
She moves fast and pulls a syringe from her pack, swabbing my arm. I sit with my sleeve rolled up. The needle pricks and blood fills the vial, it's red like it has nothing but pure haemoglobin and steady.
My arm throbs, itch spreads, but I ignore it. Her hands are steady, drawing it out. Palm's breath hitches. She turns to him, swabbing his vein.
I hold his hand, squeezing it.
"Come on, Palm."
She injects my blood into Palm slowly and carefully. Palm's body jerks once, his veins pulsing.
It's Abnormal, twitching, like something fighting inside. I lean in, my heart is stopping.
"Palm?"
Then suddenly his veins fade back to normal. His breathing evens. His eyes flutter, but don't open. And Nurse Mali exhales.
"We'll see if it worked or not."
Did the method worked?
Is Palm saved?
Or is he dead and that's why evrything is back to normal?
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