"Mattie? Who are you talking to?" Nicholas called out weakly. His whole body was shaking. Had the infection already spread to other parts of him? He hoped not, because if so then losing his arm and causing himself even more pain was for naught. All he wanted was to survive, but for what? Now, for Mattie and Cole, maybe. But he'd only met both of them today. His sister was dead. His father was dead. His mother was dead. His friends were probably dead, too. He went ahead and added all of them to the list in his head.

He could lay here and die, then it would be all over. Mattie wouldn't miss him, so there was no one else to live for. His heart was aching, but he didn't know why. Was it from something serious or was it his stupid emotions getting the best of him again? Everyone always told him he acted just like a girl.

"I'm sorry, Mattie," he said, though unsure if she could even hear him.

---

When the girl told Jacob that everything was fine, he knew it was bullshit. The girl was breathing so heavily that he was afraid at any inhale she'd explode. He put his hands up, showing her that he wasn't holding a weapon, though he did have a revolver strapped to his side. "I'm not here to hurt you, okay? Don't look so scared."

Then, she spoke of her friend. That he'd been bitten. Jacob assumed it was the boy he'd seen walking with her about an hour ago. The sun was getting low, which was dangerous. The undead came out at night.

"Alright," he said.

He moved forward slowly, hands still up because this girl seemed ready to attack at any moment. When he got closer to her, he put them down and carefully said, "My name is Jacob Stride." He nodded once at her, and retrieved his revolver from its holder.

At first, he approached the door as slowly as he'd approached the girl. He peeked in the doorway and was met with a very bloody sight. The boy he'd seen earlier was leaned against a wall with a bloody blanket wrapped tight around a nub where his arm should have been. Jacob internally winced at the thought of what might have happened here. There was a decapitated body lying spread-eagle on the floor.

"You alright there, bud?" Jacob asked, not referring so much to his arm as much as whether or not he could reply coherently, which might determine whether or not he was infected.

"P-Peachy," the boy replied sarcastically, looking up at him with dull eyes. He was holding the blankets against the...nub.

"How do you feel?" Jacob inched closer to the boy and then crouched down beside him, carefully moving his hand away from the blankets, then unraveling them. The good news was that the rest of him probably wasn't infected. The bad news was that he was lacking an arm. Jacob had seen infected wounds, and they normally gushed green pus. His arm wasn't. He looked at the severed arm beside him, which had already started to shrivel up.

"Like I'm going to die," the boy wailed.

"Just stay calm, take deep breaths. Your girl's worried about you out there."

"She's n-not my girl..."

"Oh. Sorry," Jacob looked at him and said, "My name's Jacob. You can call me Jake."

"N-Nicholas."

Reaching into one of the pockets on his cargo shorts, Jacob retrieved a small, clear plastic bag with a roll of gauze in it. He tore the bag open with his teeth and pulled out the gauze, setting his revolver on the floor beside him. With careful, but quick movements, he wrapped Nicholas' arm with the gauze.

"Can you stand up? Come on," he said, putting his revolver back in its place and rising to his feet. He grabbed Nicholas' hand and pulled him up. Nicholas swayed, humiliatingly leaning on Jacob.

"It's alright," Jacob said. "Don't worry 'bout it. I'm here to help you."

He put an arm around Nicholas and started to lead him out of the house, over to the girl.