Methys' P.O.V.

"Meth, duck!" I don't care who it is, I just follow, fearing the worst if I don't. At that moment, I don't even have time to think if this is all a trap.

Warm hands land on my shoulders, and I'm hefted up onto someone's shoulders, my feet lifted off the ground. Without giving it a second thought, I start to kick wildly and thumping my fists on the person's body. I won't let you get me. "Stop, stop," he chuckles and loosen his grip on me, causing me to land on my butt with a resounding thud. "It's me. Jaeden." While massaging my aching butt, I turn to look up and find myself staring into the deep brown eyes of Jaeden. Oops.

"Let's go," He hoists me over his shoulder, grabbing my ankles and pulling me along like a heavy sack, without even asking for my consent.

My head spins as the world is turned upside down, fireworks erupting in my stomach. It feels as if Jaeden isn't holding on to me at all, he's just a whisper in the breeze-something soft and light but still there, a constant pressure.

Then, he sprints through the gory battlefield and dodges all the bullets whizzing past his head and knocks down the filthy infected standing in his way, in the process losing his grip on me.

I plummet to the ground, all the blood that has rushed to my head making it hard to see and think. I land on the ground with a grunt, and have to take a few seconds to get up and breathe to keep my eyes open. Although I'm not badly hurt, but I'm lost in the sea of bodies-a whirl of black, brown and red. I don't know where to go or who's on my side as my head throbs. This is all so messed up...

I need to get up, but my legs are matchsticks that can be snapped in an instant, and even though most of the pounding in my head has subsided, my body aches all over from my fall.

I shake my head vigorously and attempt to push myself up although it's near impossible. Doing my best to ignore my thumping heart and the voice in my head that's telling me that the infected are coming and I'm going to die, I hear someone calling my name frantically, "Methys!" I turn, just as I'm shoved roughly to the side, tumbling onto the rough floor, the air knocked out of me in a gasp.

What's up with everyone trying to push my around?

My thoughts are quickly snapped off by a gunshot.

I quickly roll away, not wanting to be trampled on or hit, but I hear the groans.

Who's hurt?

Hurriedly turning my head, I see Arin clutching his bicep with one hand, a look of agony plastered on his face. He ambles to the outer ring of the circle we have now formed surrounding the little remaining infected, while the others cover for him, firing accurate shots and effectively killing the group of infected. When he reaches the front of me, he collapses to the ground, grunting and wheezing.

At this moment, I don't even think about my safety because all thoughts cease to be as my mind flashes images of him in blurs. He's injured. He's bleeding. He needs medical attention.

Move, Methys, move!

Worry settles deep in my heart and somehow, I manage to get on my feet. I don't think twice before dashing towards him. "Arin!" I run as fast as my legs can carry me towards him, and drop to my knees, partially because they'd buckled, partially out of this frantic, adrenaline-pumped state I currently am trapped in. Leaning in, I try to survey his wounds.

He lets out a small smile to signal that he's alright. "Don't worry - I'll live, Meth. It isn't that bad. On the other hand, are you okay?" He glances at me, scrunching his eyebrows together.

"I think you should be worrying about yourself now, not me!" I reprimand, almost playfully.

He chuckles while wheezing in pain - a weird combination - and points towards the survivors, while starting to cough violently. Nodding swiftly, I don't take my eyes off his shirt. Blood is seeping through the thin fabric, dying it a crimson red shade, as the material absorbs more blood. Now I'm worried. What if he faints from the loss of too much blood? I've never seen someone bleed that much before. What am I supposed to do?

More gunshots ring out, and the sound rings in my ears, making them hurt terribly. An acute throbbing is present in my temples, and I know that I will not be able to get this memory out of my head, especially because Arin is lying on the ground next to me, scarlet blood leaking out profusely from his bicep.

Arin grabs my arm in a vice-like grip, and I turn my attention to him in an instant, starting to blubber nonsense like an adorable baby. He grins, a mischievous glint shining in his eyes, and I narrow my eyes into slits to express my thorough confusion.

"What?" I ask unknowingly.

"It's amazing how you get so worked up over me in just a split second though you were jabbing my sides for yelling down an abandoned sidewalk just two days ago." He chuckles.

Two days? It feels like a lifetime, to be exact. Two days can actually change someone completely from the inside out. Within two days, I feel like I barely know myself at all. Two days can sure turn your life upside down. I feel like I'm about to collapse with those annoying taps of black pellets. I feel like there's no hope left anymore because we're just caught up in this sick mess.

The black pellets drop to the ground, then spring up again, reanimated, shooting skywards just to drop down again. Unconsciously, I start to follow the cycle of it. That's what resilience is about, I guess. Even in the most unlikely situations, you can always find morals hidden; lurking in corners. I guess I must be walking in circles because I don't find any, no matter how much I need them.

"Meth?" A small whisper, barely loud enough for me to hear. I look down at Arin. His face is tightly drawn, like a young kid looks before he's about to cry.

"What?" I try to keep my voice gentle and soothing, but anxiety, uncertainty and worry settles deep in my heart, like an anaconda squeezing its prey to death. I don't know what will happen next, so what if he decides to fall asleep, and... My heart skips a beat and my mind refuses to go further at that thought. No! You can't think that way, the optimist says. But the pessimist retaliates and my mind conjures all the negative possibilities of what might happen next.

I can't.

"We're clear now. Let's go." I help him to a stand, and he clutched his biceps really hard. So hard that his red knuckles are slowly turning white. My heart pains to see him in this condition and I wish I could do something for him.

Due to the pain - I think, Arin stumbles like a drunkard, body swaying unsteadily from side to side, and crashes into me occasionally, then murmuring apologies. I throw worried glances at him, secretly afraid that he might not be able to make it. I silently chided myself, What are you talking about, Methys? He said he's going to be okay, so he will be, okay? He's not as weak as you - he'll make it. Stop over-thinking!

I try to reassure myself, but my quaking hands and body seem to think otherwise. A multitude of thoughts run through my mind as I try to calm myself down. Gosh, I was making it sound as if I were the one injured.

Stop overthinking things, Meth.

A sudden bang jolts me out of my ridiculous thoughts and I jerk my head towards the sound, scared that it might be one of infected when we were unarmed. Once I realise what happened, I heave a huge sigh of relief and my legs almost buckle, glad that it isn't what I expected.

Roseline finally decides to break into one of the houses located in the whole row of residence so we're through the backdoor and into the kitchen. It's easier for us to search and salvage food this way. I have to admit - she is smart. Smarter than I am, anyway.

But, there'll be food... Right? My growling stomach is preventing me from concentrating on anything, so I have to eat now. Surviving in a seemingly wild place has taken a toll on me; my greedy stomach is never satisfied, my skin is burning madly and I feel like I've just walked a thousand miles - my aching legs are tired and my body is worn out; I don't feel like I can continue on anymore.

After Roseline, Anselm and Jaeden clear the whole house - both levels with rifles held at the ready, they ensure that none of the infected is hidden in any secluded corner and gesture towards us so that we can get to our safe haven as soon as possible. But it didn't mean that the infected couldn't barge in at all.

Once I enter the house, I spin around and spread my hands out like a free bird and relish the moment. Of course, not until I hear an 'omph' and a quick exhale of breath. I turn around and discover that it's Arin. He's clutching his bicep while bending over in pain. I must have accidentally hit him in the guts... "Sorry," I sheepishly mouth and help him into the house.

"Hurry," Anselm says firmly and it reminds me of Dera. I wonder to myself why Anselm doesn't seem affected by the fact that he has failed to save Dera. Maybe she was not related to him; at least not in the same way as I was related to Erin.

Or Emeline, who has become one of the little people I trust, I even regard her as my best friend now, accustomed to her warm smiles and tinkling laughter. She cares the same way as Erin did for me. But she can never be compared to Erin. Erin... was indescribable in just a few words and sentences.

And, as terrible as it sounds, I'm glad that Dera has fallen. It reminds me of how I couldn't have saved anyways - she would have a relapse when coming in contact with the other infected. It reminds me too much of how cruel the world is, to leave me alone whereas Erin lies in a far far away place.

Spotting Emeline across the kitchen, I jog over and give her a hug. She is filing in the empty spaces in my heart that my family has left behind. Including Erin.

Emeline seems surprised by my sudden gesture and stiffens in shock, but returns the hug without another moment's hesitation. She doesn't even seem to mind the small sticky trail of blood Arin left on my shirt that I borrowed from Jaeden's friends. I wonder if they will mind though.

"Where's Arin?" I ask as I pull back, feeling the sudden loss of warmth. Emeline gives me one of her trademark smiles and I swear I see a mischievous glint somewhere beneath that.

"Someone's getting concerned, eh?" She nudges me playfully. I roll my eyes in response. I'm not in love with him. "He's over there, by the sofa." she points towards the living room and continues, sighing fervently, "Get some good night's rest, Meth. You look tired."

"I will, thanks." I squeeze her arm and give her a small smile, before heading in the direction of the living room. Jaeden raises his head as I make my way there, giving me a soft smile.

Deciding that since I already count us as friends, we might as well get to know each other more so I take an empty seat beside Jaeden on the sofa. The material sinks in due to my weight and lets out a weird noise - that sounds so much like a fart. Well... that's awkward... But it can't get any worse, can it?

"Hey," I say awkwardly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, then toying with the hem of my clothes to busy my itching hands. The tense tension is so thick that I'm pretty sure a knife can't slice through it.

Jaeden doesn't reply, instead he stares at me with such an intensity in his gaze, that I can't help but squirm in my seat, blushing furiously as the heat crawls up my face relentlessly. Forcing myself to look away, I turn my attention towards someone less... intimidating. Jaeden is another puzzle that I want to solve so badly, but I'll have to wait till the time is ripe so he won't look as if a lion wanting to bite my head off.

I can barely make out Arin's familiar figure on the sofa because someone is blocking half of his body. Another guy is moaning on the floor, clutching his thigh. The unsettling feeling gnawing at my mind is growing and becoming too much to bear as the seconds tick by and I feel Jaeden's eyes boring through my head. Making up my mind in that split second, I walk towards Arin and take off my shoes, placing them in front of my bare, blistered feet. It has been a habit since I was young as Dad didn't want a speck of dust on the new-as-ever sofa that was in our house ever since I was born. It is a rule that I lived by, and I find it hard to change now.

However, I'm starting to make my own rules too.

I hop onto the arm of the sofa, and whip my head away, accidentally hair-slapping myself in the process. The thin bristles poke my skin and causes an itchy sensation to spread around my round and puffy cheeks. But that's better than showing Arin the currently blossoming redness on my cheeks as the heat literally radiates from my face.

Arin is sitting shirtless on the soft cotton, and I don't want him to think that I'm checking him out because I'm sure that I'll be gushing at his figure if I turn back. How could I not have noticed that he took off his shirt? Oh right, because someone was blocking him. My face burns and flushes further.

Three of the survivors are in the kitchen, with Emeline and Roseline, while the other three are here with Arin and I.

"All done," the person wrapping Arin's bicep looks up and nods once at Jaeden, before telling Arin the don'ts and to look out for his injury or else it might cause infection. I sit down next to Arin, giving him a grin that I hope is not misunderstood as a flirtatious one, and try to stop my eyes from wandering lower than his chin.

His face is stormy and unreadable as he grabs my arm forcefully, earning a slight wince from me. His voice is barely audible as he whispers in my ear, his expression darkening instantly, "Meth, Jaeden isn't who you think he is. He-"

"What?" I jerk away, alarm bells ringing in my head.

"Is something wrong?" Jaeden gives us a threatening glance and ask with unquestioned authority in his deep voice as he turns his attention to us. Arin shoots daggers at Jaeden from his eyes, and shake his head no; Jaeden nods his head warily, his gaze jumping between both of us before he watches his friend - the injured one.

Gosh, they are acting like rivals caught up in a love triangles.

"Look," Arin hisses, just loud enough for both of us to hear, "he's the one who shot me, okay? He isn't who you think he is. You have to be careful around him."

His words catching me off guard, I blink repeatedly before blurting out, "He-what?" Shaking my head in confusion, I hang my head on one side and stare at Arin, not fully comprehending what he just said.

Arin sighs and shakes his head. "Meth, just-just stay away from him, okay? Don't even try to say no, he will hurt you, Meth. I don't want to see you hurt." He looks at me expectantly, giving me those pleading puppy eyes.

He can't say this and expect me to actually carry it out. Jaeden's my friend now; friends have to trust each other. I won't have the rights to be one of his friends if I doubt him, let alone suspect him of being a bad guy.

"He's harmless, Arin. He just needs some time to adapt, trust me." I say in a low voice. Arin tightens his grip on my arm, his electric blue eyes boring into mine.

"Fine," I give in, silently smiling to myself. Grinning like a fool, Arin pulls me in for a hug, sending an illegal amount of electric bolts shooting up my spine.

I smile knowingly - I can confirm that I have an undeniable crush on Arin.

*~*

The night settles in sooner than others and only the occasional chilly breeze blows across my face sends tingles down my spine. I can't sleep because of nightmares haunting me again.

A tear escapes my eye as I think of all that I've left behind. Hugging my knees to my chest, I rest my head on my knees and sob silently.

All of a sudden, the sound of footsteps approaching rapidly can be heard and the door slams open with a loud bang. Everyone jolts awake and stares at the oncoming figure. Audible gasps are all I hear before the stranger rushes in and closes the door shut.