For the past two weeks Esme had done nothing much but stare transfixed at the bite mark healing slowly in her forearm. When she first realized had been bitten, she was ready to accept her fate. She had dodged death too many times and knew it was now the moment for her to greet it like an old friend. She was too scared of committing suicide, so she decided to lock herself in her room and wait slowly for the infection to take over her senses and drive her mad, hoping that someone would find her and kill her before she did any serious damage. It angered her; so much that she could almost feel her blood boiling. How could she have been so stupid? All she wanted to do was sneak out of the quarantine zone without being spotted, run down to the nearest pharmacy and try to find some disinfectants and bandages to replace the old ones she had. But she ran into a Clicker and panicked. The only weapon she carried to defend herself was a baseball bat and it hadn't been enough.
Esme was able to knock out the infected, but not without a little price. The bite. She remembered the agony of waiting, of slowly going over the things she had done in the past and regretting most of them for not doing enough to help, or not giving it all she had. But days passed, and soon a week had gone by and she wasn't getting any symptoms. Hell, the bite even started to heal like a normal wound. She had only gone one year to medical school but it was enough to know it wasn't normal.
And so Esme decided to go to the only people she - kind of - trusted about that topic in the quarantine zone: The Fireflies. She had only spoken to Eileen, their leader, a couple of times, since some of her patients and people she mended where part of the rebel group. But as soon as she confessed, her life was turned upside down. She became what she hated the most: the center of attention, and people started treating her like a lab rat.
Eileen had talked to her and convinced her that taking her to Atlanta would be the best option they had. She claimed there where scientists and medics there that could look further into Esme's condition, and that could bring them one step closer to developing a cure for the infection. Of course, Esme knew those where just fancy words for "You will soon become our own little lab rat and we'll stab you with needles just so we can, maybe, probably, find something that could, maybe, probably, lead to a cure, or to nothing. No pressure."
It was around 9:45 PM, and all Esme had done that day was pace restlessly around her small apartment, chew on a pencil and try to distract her mind by doing things like dusting the couch or re-doing the dishes. She had received a letter from The Fireflies asking for her presence on the brick building (that she had grown to know oh-so-well in the past week) at 10:00 PM. Eileen had gone over her little trip's details with her before but insisted that Esme come to the meeting so she could meet her new "protectors".
After pacing around for a couple more minutes, she decided enough was enough and grabbed the messenger bag she usually carried around with some useless stuff like a pocket-sized medical encyclopedia, an old pepper spray and a small first aid kit. She took a deep breath, and left her apartment, since there where more important things at hand, like saving humanity, as Eileen liked to constantly repeat to her.
Esme's outfit wasn't anything really special; she wore a grey hoodie over a pale pink tank top, washed jeans and her signature black chucks. She put the hood over her head to protect herself from the drizzle and walked down the slightly empty streets of what was once Dallas, ignoring the cat calls and insults thrown her way, until she finally found herself standing in front of the dreaded brick building.
"Well, here goes nothing," Esme said to herself, as she dragged her feet across the street and into the building, shaking off the drops of rain from her hoodie and her hair. She soon found herself standing in front of Eileen and a couple more Fireflies she had seen before, along with another young brunette girl, and sighed, knowing she probably looked a little miserable and weak compared to the soldiers in the room. So much for being the cure, she thought. There was definitely no going back now.
Esme was able to knock out the infected, but not without a little price. The bite. She remembered the agony of waiting, of slowly going over the things she had done in the past and regretting most of them for not doing enough to help, or not giving it all she had. But days passed, and soon a week had gone by and she wasn't getting any symptoms. Hell, the bite even started to heal like a normal wound. She had only gone one year to medical school but it was enough to know it wasn't normal.
And so Esme decided to go to the only people she - kind of - trusted about that topic in the quarantine zone: The Fireflies. She had only spoken to Eileen, their leader, a couple of times, since some of her patients and people she mended where part of the rebel group. But as soon as she confessed, her life was turned upside down. She became what she hated the most: the center of attention, and people started treating her like a lab rat.
Eileen had talked to her and convinced her that taking her to Atlanta would be the best option they had. She claimed there where scientists and medics there that could look further into Esme's condition, and that could bring them one step closer to developing a cure for the infection. Of course, Esme knew those where just fancy words for "You will soon become our own little lab rat and we'll stab you with needles just so we can, maybe, probably, find something that could, maybe, probably, lead to a cure, or to nothing. No pressure."
It was around 9:45 PM, and all Esme had done that day was pace restlessly around her small apartment, chew on a pencil and try to distract her mind by doing things like dusting the couch or re-doing the dishes. She had received a letter from The Fireflies asking for her presence on the brick building (that she had grown to know oh-so-well in the past week) at 10:00 PM. Eileen had gone over her little trip's details with her before but insisted that Esme come to the meeting so she could meet her new "protectors".
After pacing around for a couple more minutes, she decided enough was enough and grabbed the messenger bag she usually carried around with some useless stuff like a pocket-sized medical encyclopedia, an old pepper spray and a small first aid kit. She took a deep breath, and left her apartment, since there where more important things at hand, like saving humanity, as Eileen liked to constantly repeat to her.
Esme's outfit wasn't anything really special; she wore a grey hoodie over a pale pink tank top, washed jeans and her signature black chucks. She put the hood over her head to protect herself from the drizzle and walked down the slightly empty streets of what was once Dallas, ignoring the cat calls and insults thrown her way, until she finally found herself standing in front of the dreaded brick building.
"Well, here goes nothing," Esme said to herself, as she dragged her feet across the street and into the building, shaking off the drops of rain from her hoodie and her hair. She soon found herself standing in front of Eileen and a couple more Fireflies she had seen before, along with another young brunette girl, and sighed, knowing she probably looked a little miserable and weak compared to the soldiers in the room. So much for being the cure, she thought. There was definitely no going back now.
* I love writing while I listen to music, so most of the posts I do will include a link to a song I listened to while writing the post. Feel free to click on it and listen to it while reading (: