Page 8 of Uprising

Before I second-guess myself, I tuck my tail and follow behind him. Not that I have much of a choice. I’d die within the first half hour. Even having Jamie’s mallet, I’d surely fuck up how to hit someone.

Following behind Reed, I keep my head down, feeling shame wash over me as I think back to Jamie. I did nothing to help him. I just let the dead guy tear him apart. How can I call him my friend if I didn’t attempt to save him? And to go out lik?—

I slam into something hard. Taking a step back, I blink up to see what wall I ran into when all I see is Reed’s black jacket and bat against his back. Peering around his arm, it takes two seconds before four zombies appear. It takes everything in me not to scream and scramble backwards. I somehow managed to stop myself—or it was Reed stopping me. I’m not so sure. My breathing comes in ragged, my chest heaving with panic.

Reed doesn’t say anything, which doesn’t help the panic that's ripping me apart. The last time I had a panic attack like this, Rue was there to calm me down. I rack my brain trying to remember, but nothing comes to mind.

Fear sinks down my throat to my stomach, my eyes searching for any way to run, but I don’t see one. I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until my lungs scream in protest. I try to exhale slowly and quietly, but it comes out loud and unsteady. Reed glances over his shoulder at me, his eyes boring into mine. My eyes twitch, my vision blurring right before I’m plunged into darkness.

* * *

I suckin a breath as muffled shouts and someone grunts beside me. My eyes feel too heavy to open even as I attempt. Even just having met Reed, I hear him beside me cursing.

I blow out a breath and pinch my leg. I vaguely remember Rue telling me to distract myself, whether that’s pinching myself or pouring water over my face. Unfortunately, I don’t have water, so pinching myself would have to do. Slowly my eyes blink open, adjusting to the dark. As soon as I do, I almost wish I was still passed out. Reed slams a zombie head into the ground; brain matter flies everywhere. I flinch as a piece flies towards me, landing on my cheek. I gag, bile rising in my throat. I barely have time to roll over before vomit spews from my mouth. Chunks of food spill all over the concrete floor. I feel something grab my ankle; the poor effort to kick whoever it is off lies flat as I retch again. Tears stream down my face, snot puddling at the base of my nose.

The moment I stop throwing up, I roll over and find another zombie clawing at my ankle. His milky eyes focus on my leg; half his ear is missing, and his face looks beaten in. I blink rapidly, kicking my foot out. I hit him in the forehead. My brain is barely able to comprehend everything going on. I might have a high IQ, but that doesn’t mean I understand the lengths of what’s happening. I part my lips to say something when Reed snatches the zombie off me like it weighed nothing. I suck in a lungful of oxygen, my breath coming in ragged again. Reed holds his bat above his shoulder, swinging it down into the zombie's head.

“I—” my voice cracks. I’m not even sure what to say; thank you, maybe, but nothing comes to mind. “Re–”

My brain fries, my body becomes numb, and for a second I feel the bile rise in my throat again. Reed swings his gaze to mine before he looks above me. Dropping my head, I see three more zombies upside down. My eyelids drop, my body feeling sluggish as everything fades to dark again.

CHAPTER6

Noah

Rue always threw a book at my head to wake me up because I sleep like the dead. The first time she and Mallory walked into my room trying to wake me up, it took them ten minutes of yelling my name before Rue finally reached under the covers and twisted my nuts. It was not the way any man would've wanted to wake up. But Rue had her weird ways. Hence her throwing a book at my head.

But there’s no Rue here; there's no Mallory. Which surprised me when the smallest sound jerks me awake. My heart pounds against my chest, sweat beading down my forehead. Swiping away the sweat with my sleeve, I ease myself up. Immediately I’m hit with the realization I’m no longer outside; instead, I’m in some dingy motel room. The hideous blue carpet doesn’t match the off-gray walls that are stained with things I don’t even want to think about. A single lamp sits on the side table next to the bed. Dark purple curtains are drawn, only allowing the sun to shine in from the edges.

My throat’s so dry that I almost gag when I try to swallow. I sit up, blowing out a breath as I recall what just happened.

One: I ran into Reed before having a full-blown panic attack.

Two: I hadanotherpanic attack while I almost became zombie chow.

A sudden pit hits my stomach as I realize I might have been bitten. My head snaps down; only instead of being in my shirt and jeans, I’m under a blanket. In an instant I lift the covers up and find myself completely naked. Ignoring that small fact for a moment, I scrub my hands down my arms and legs.

Blowing out a breath when I don’t find anything. I look around, finding that I’m alone in this smelly motel room but with no clue of how I got here. Crossing my legs, I sit there for a long minute, staring off into space. What happened? I’ve passed out from a panic attack before, but this feels different. Why was I out for so long? And where’s Reed?

Just think of his name, and he shall appear. A shiver runs down my spine as he steps through the door. I squint when the sun shines in my eyes for a moment before he closes the door and they can readjust.

My shoulders sag against the headboard, relief washing over me. I might not know him, but he appears safe. Well, safe enough that he saved me from the zombies. He couldn’t be all that bad.

“I would say take a picture, it would last longer, but since we don’t have phones anymore, can you stop fucking staring at me? It’s rude.”

My mouth drops open. Well, shit, guess I was wrong about him not being all that bad. He’s just a downright asshole, even if he is hot.

“Well, good morning to you, too,” I mumble. My voice sounds rough, like I’ve swallowed broken glass.

I clutch the blanket in my palms, hating everything about this situation.

“We can’t stay here for long,” he tells me at the same time I ask, “What happened?”

He leans against the door, crossing his foot over his ankle. I shouldn’t find him attractive, but man, I’m sweating just from looking at him. Even with his icy cold look zeroing in on me.

“You panicked.” He finally answers as if that explains everything. Which it doesn’t, and I have a feeling Reed has no plans to tell me.

“How did I get here?”

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