Earlier

"Hey, Marc." Art gave Marc a short, courteous nod and a pat on the shoulder. Marc reciprocated absentmindedly.

"What's up?"

Marc knew it must be important. Art was a man of action and a leader. He wouldn't discuss business with him on his day off unless it was absolutely necessary. In this case, Marc was glad the interruption had stopped him from being more of an idiot than he'd already let Teal know he was.

"One of the Zs woke up. She's giving a lot of information on what happened to her at the lab between moans and gibberish talk." His unusual honey-colored irises, full of hope.

Marc nodded pensively. "What about Eric?"

"He wasn't the one taken in the van but he was shot. We were able to drag him away from the border but he's bleeding badly. He needs a transfusion and my blood's not a match. Waiting for Gisela to arrive at the rendezvous point, since she's his twin.

"Got it. Who got taken?" Marc's eyes narrowed in question.

Art slumped his shoulders and dragged a breath out his mouth. "Not one of ours. We think maybe one of the zombies we were trying to break out, or one of their guys."

Marc looked over at Kaya. She pretended not to listen and busily stored cases of vodka into the cabinet underneath the bar.

"Kaya, I'll be back in about an hour. Can you handle things?"

"Yep." Looking through him, she smiled sweetly.

"Rocco will be in early to take all the human-corps, transporting boxes, back to the gates."

Kaya nodded.

"Oh! And can you let Teal know I have to leave but she can stay as long as she needs to?" 

"Mhm."

"Thanks."

When he was out of sight, the smile faded, and intense, glazed pupils watched his figure disappear from sight. Lean legs rapidly carried her upstairs, to find Teal.

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Nothing but chaos inside the old crumbling hospital walls. Screams and wallows bounced in the distance, weaving through the dirty, dark hallways. Echoing footsteps clicked between murmurs and low whispers, the density in the air was nauseating. It smelled like death and defecation.

"Can you check on the talking Z, Art?"

Art nodded and headed down the narrow, unlit wing, to where the barely living, female zombie laid in a solitary room.

From a distance, Marc watched Gisela quietly sitting upright on a metal chair. An IV line placed onto the crook of her arm. Lifting her free hand she massaged a pounding headache away. Her light, nutty curls a mass of tangles. Heavy lids covered the large brown expressive eyes that were usually surrounded by laugh lines. But not tonight. Tonight, she cried for her twin brother Eric. Tonight, she was the only lifeline he had left.

"How are you holding up Gisela?" Marc's soft voice caressed her ear and she smiled tiredly at him.

"Not too good Marc. I'm tired and weak and the nurse said the transfusion can take up to 4 hours." She shook her head. "He's lost a lot of blood."

"Hang in there." He squeezed her right shoulder in support, then left his hand there in solidarity. "We'll take him over to a half-decent hospital once he can be move."

Bending her right hand at the elbow, Gisela grasped his finger and pressed, closing her eyes. Her pupils never met his, but he could tell by her voice she'd been crying for hours. Staring at her profile, the swollen semblance was difficult to miss, particularly around the eyes and cheeks.

Quiet footsteps unheard by the pair startle them, as a sorrowful Art walked in. Marc, about to ask him how their patient was doing, noticed the shared long, longing look between Gisela and him. They said nothing, but it spoke volumes. Her composed face contoured in sorrow. Art knelt his tall body before her, resting his head on her chest, and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Marc watched with utter surprise as the pair embraced the other, in more than friendly support. He had no idea the feelings were so deep between the two. Watching them reminded him of old movies he used to watch as a kid where you stared in awe at how the main characters fell in love, while life crumbled around them.

He felt uncomfortable and a tinge of jealousy, when her fingers curled up in his blond, straight hair, lovingly massaging her lover's head.

"Are you okay?" He whispered against her breast. She nodded, verbalizing a small yes.

Thoughts of Teal came to him as he watched the tender scene unfold before him. For the first time ever, since he'd turned, he felt sick.

"I gotta go check on our witness. You guys can just-"

Art turned his head and looked up from Gisela's bosom. His face was a mix of emotions. "I'm here. Go home, man. It'll be daylight soon. We'll catch up tomorrow." He gently suggested with a tired smile.

"I'll text you."

"Sure thing." Art had already turned his attention back to Gisela. Neither noticed the flash of desperate need that came across Marc's eyes.

With a slow pace, his feet carried him to where the female zombie rested, next to an immune, human nurse.

"How is she?"

"Not good." The nurse's eyes shadowed. "It's sad who we humans can become, you know? This poor girl, barely what? Sixteen? Seventeen? Tested, pricked... Slashed." Her mouth showed disgust. "No matter who you are, or where you come from, it's not right." The nurse shook her head. Her exhausted eyes bore into his.

Marc somberly nodded.

In a split second, the zombie's bosky eyes flashed opened and grew large with desperation. Her mouth agape, as if trying to educe a breath of air, while underwater. Loud gasps and a horrific wheezing sound, came through her lungs and out of her mouth. At the same time, very dark liquid drizzled from her lips. It thickened, the more it oozed out of her. Losing control, she began to cough, choking on the oily substance. The child Z, spit out in spurts that seemed to come out as chunks of vomit.

As the blubber came up her throat, she gagged and suffocated on the thick goo, deep burgundy in color. Desperately, she clawed at the air and wildly shook, convulsing in agony. The nurse, in desperation, tried pushing her body back at the torso, towards the stretcher, so she would lay back down, but the girl was too strong for her.

"We're losing her! We're losing her!" Was the nurse's frenzied cry for help.

Marc sprang into action, holding her at the shoulders, forcefully pushing down. The thick phlegm like liquid, spurt all over his fingers and arms, as her entire body jerked uncontrollably. Similar to when one's possessed by an evil spirit in movies.

The screaming nurse, the violent, loud hurls coming from the Z and his frenzied, cold breath pummeled his ears, until most of the pandemonium, finally seized. First, he could no longer hear the horrible, relentless hacking. Then the wailing cries coming from the unsuspecting volunteer nurse. But his rapid breath did not stop. He could still hear the ragged, short spurts, loud and clear.

He heaved. A foggy mind played tricks on him and his voice raised above the nurse's cries.

"Is she dead?! What's happening to her?! Did she die?!"

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As he tightly gripped the motorcycle handles he could still see dry, almost black blood staining his pale, bluish skin from knuckles to forearms. A vile reminder of how fragile life was, no matter who you are. He'd cleaned most of it, but because water at the site was scarce, he'd just taken a dirty rag and pushed most of it off him.

Once at the club, with a quick heavy tread he took to the stairs, two at a time.

Disappointment filled his chest when hopeful eyes scanned the empty room. He'd thought he'd find her sleeping on his couch, waiting for him. But, she'd left without saying goodbye. He kicked himself for being so insensitive. He should have known better. 

Reminding himself of the first night they kissed, Marc regretfully recalled it had been but only her second kiss.

"Fuck." He mumbled under a cool heavy breath. 

Long fingers massaged at his temple. He'd had a horrible day. Between realizing Gisela and Art were together, the experimented-on Z dying in his arms, Eric at a crossroads between life and death and his pathetic, selfish thoughts of being with Teal, he was about to break.

His zombie-brain was getting in the way of reason. Why had he offered her a sexual, casual affair, clearly knowing Teal wasn't that type of female? She had human characteristics. More so than he. She'd mentioned romance. Romance?!

Feelings of regret and an unexpected sadness crossed his viridescent eyes. He reached for the phone in his back pocket and dialed her number.

As expected, it went directly into voicemail. Another one of his stupid suggestions. Keep your phone off Teal, unless you need to reach me. He'd said to her. If it was up to her, he knew, she'd never want to speak to him again. She'd only do it, because she wanted to leave zombieland, find her aunt and Doctor hotshot.

It couldn't be helped when a pang of jealousy hit his chest. Did he believe Dr. Olivias could win her mind? No. Of course not. Did he believe Doctor O would harm her? Maybe. He sighed. After watching that poor girl die in his arms earlier, he believed little of what humans said.

Although if he was being honest, and as little as Marc wanted to admit, the doctor had a good reputation. He'd done extensive research online and the guy was clean. An honest outstanding citizen, or so it seemed. What if she ended up liking him? Or, he ended up liking her? She was after all, human. At least most parts of her were.

What was there not to like? He knew plenty of human and zombie chicks. She was by far smarter than all of them combined. But that wasn't it either. It was the fact that Dr. Andres Olivias would spend every waking hour with her, attempting to save the world. He, on the other hand, would be all the way here, alone.

Lonely.

If that asshole dared hurt her, he would cross over and kill him with his bare hands.

Now how was that for a fact?!

Music By:
REM*Everybody Hurts