Chapter Thirty

Prepared to Die, But It's Taking Forever!

Nobody knew exactly what it felt like to turn. We knew the symptoms and what was told, but those who weren't affected didn't really know. Nathan held my hands, crouching in front of me just staring at me like I was a specimen.

"Stop it," I mumbled.

"What he asked? Are you okay? How do you feel?"

"I'm fine for now. Stop looking at me like I'm one of them already."

He dropped his gaze to the floor. "Sorry. I'm just curious and nervous."

I shook my head and leaned back against the cold, ungiving stone wall behind me. Shivers ran down my spine. The dungeons were cold and damp. Whoever designed the place didn't care much about the comfort of the people being held there. Of course, it was originally a prison meant for murderers.

"Oh, Emma!" my mother exclaimed from the other side of the bars.

I looked up to see my mother's tear stained face at the bars.

"Mom!" I cried, leaping off the bench.

"My baby," she sobbed as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Nathan motioned for Andrew to unlock the cell door. He looked hesitantly from Nathan to me. My mother stared at the man with her big, sad, blue eyes. He sighed heavily and unlocked the heavy, iron door. My mother wrapped her arms around me and we sank to the floor in a fit of sobs.

"I'm so sorry, Momma!"

"Shh, baby. It's alright. Momma's here. Momma's here," she cooed while smoothing my hair down.

"Why didn't you just stay here?" Dad paced around the hallway.

"I couldn't let Nathan..."

"Nathan? Fuck Nathan!" my father shouted.

I glanced over at him. The look on his face was heartbreaking it looked like my dad had sucker punched him in the gut.

"Why did you leave? Why were you so damn irresponsible?" My father turned his anger on the man.

"I-I didn't think..."

"No you didn't think! Now look! Emma is going to turn into one of those things and it's all your fault!"

"Hey, man. He already feels bad." Taz stepped forward.

"Feels bad? He feels bad? My daughter is going to die and he feels bad?"

Taz shifted his gaze away from my dad. I'd never seen him so angry.

Mom wailed louder as dad said it.

"It's not his fault!" I shouted.

"How is it not?" Mom asked.

"I didn't have to go. It was my decision to go. Nobody else's. Mine. If you two are going to be mad at anybody, be mad at me."

Dad finally stopped moving and looked at me. Tears flooded his eyes. I had only seen my father cry once before, when this started and he found out Becca was dead.

"Dad..."

"Emma, don't." He wiped at his face.

What have I done?

"How long does she have?" he asked Nathan.

"She was bit about half an hour ago so I guess it could be anytime. It really varies from person to person and how healthy they are."

"How are you feeling?" mom asked wiping the tears from my cheeks.

"Actually, I feel fine. My arm hurts but nothing other than that."

Mom put the back of her hand on my forehead. "She doesn't have a fever."

"None?" Nathan knelt next to me and bit his bottom lip.

He pulled a pen light from his back pocket and shined it in my eyes. "Her pupils are reacting normally. They're not glazed over. No aggressive behavior. We'll give it another hour or two."

"What's going on?" I asked.

"I don't know," Nathan replied, shaking his head.

"Then I have more time to accept the fact I'm going to die?" I asked.

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and nodded.

"Shouldn't she have some symptom?" Liz asked.

"Yes. Something. This is unusual."

"Okay. Good. Because I'm not ready just yet," I replied while holding my mom's hands.

"You're not going to die," Mom said quietly.

"Mom, I was bit. I'm going to turn, and Nathan is going to put me down."

"What?" Dad asked.

"I want Nathan to be the one to do it."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want you or Mom to have to do that. You shouldn't have to be the one to put your daughter down. I want Nathan to do it."

"Why not the guard over there?" Mom asked.

"I don't know him."

"Exactly!" she replied.

I shook my head steadfastly. "I want someone that I love to be the one who does it, but not you guys."

"Hey, I thought I was going to do it!" Taz furrowed his brow and folded his arms over his chest.

"Don't seem so happy that I'm going to die."

"Someone you love?" Dad interrupted.

"Yes. I know it's bad timing for us, but I love him."

"And I love her."

"Everyone already knows you two are in love! You seriously never told each other?"

"No," I replied sheepishly.

They shook their heads at us.

"It's like a damn dungeon down here." Meaghan said, pushing the heavy iron door shut behind her.

I just looked at her in disbelief. She could be really ditzy sometimes. "That's because it is a dungeon, Meg."

"Right," she replied, standing outside the holding cell.

She looked at me and bit her lip.

"Don't start crying," I said still sitting on the ground.

"How can I not? My best friend is going to turn into a zombie and it's entirely my fault!" she wailed.

"We already determined it is my fault and nobody else."

"You are so dramatic." Liz shook her head and sat on the bench next to me.

"How is it your fault? If it weren't for me you'd be fine!" she cried, ignoring Liz.

"Meaghan, it was my choice to save you. It was my choice to go after Nathan. It is my fault and my fault alone. Now everybody stop. It's sad yes, I know. I'm going to die. I am going to die. I will die."

"Are you trying to convince us that it was you and that you're okay with dying? Or are you trying to convince yourself?" Nathan asked.

"Both. I do know it was my fault. Countless people told me not to go but I did. As far as dying, really who wants to die? I don't want to die, but I'm going to. Eventually I'll be okay with that. Probably as I'm turning, but we will deal with it. We don't have much of a choice."

"How can you be so calm?" Meaghan asked as she joined the rest of us who were crying.

"I'm not. I'm a complete mess. I just have my moments of being peaceful, but I'm not okay and I'm not calm."

Dad knelt down with Mom and me and wrapped his big bear arms around us. Meaghan stood at the doorway leaning against it and Nathan sat on the bench.

"You're a doctor! How can you not be able to do anything? Save her!" Mom screamed at Nathan.

"Mom. You know there is no cure. There is no way Nathan can save me."

I hated having to be the voice of reason, especially when I should be the one freaking out about a cure. I was the one dying. "Are you sure you want the doc to do you in?" Andrew asked suddenly.

"Yes," I replied.

"Are you okay with that, doc?"

I turned to look at Nathan who seemed to be studying me again. I looked for any signs of hope; a glimmer or a spark of something. There was nothing though. Not a damned thing.

"I'm fine with it," he murmured, looking away.

"Can I see the outside one more time?" I asked quietly.

Andrew bit his lip and shook his head.

"I didn't think so."

"I can't believe there's nothing anyone can do," Meaghan agonized.

"Do you know how many people have come through here? How many have turned without their loved ones?" Andrew asked from the other side of the bars.

"What does that matter?" Meaghan questioned.

"She's not the first to be bit and she won't be the last. It sucks, but now it's a part of nature. We will all have people we love turned. Sometimes we'll be the ones who turn."

"That doesn't mean we have to just accept it," Dad replied.

"That's exactly what it means. You have to get over it. Don't prolong the inevitable. Say your good-byes and move on with life," Andrew retorted.

"Just move on with life? Just like that? Leave our still living daughter to turn in this dank dungeon alone?" Mom held me tighter.

"Yes."

"No. I refuse to let my last living daughter turn into one of those things without someone with her. I'm not going to let her go through this horrible process all alone. How would you like to watch your daughter go through it? Or you be left to die alone?"

"I've watched enough people turn," he muttered.

"Strangers. People that you never met. People who happened to be passing by. Have you ever seen a loved one turn? Have you ever had to put down someone that meant the entire world to you?" she continued to ask.

He looked away from her.

"I didn't think so. We will not leave our daughter. I don't expect Meaghan to leave her best friend. And I know Nathan will not leave the woman he loves. She will not go through this process alone. She will have those who love her surrounding her as she..." Mom wouldn't finish her sentence.

"You don't have to stay till the very end," I lamented.

"We don't have to, but we will," Dad replied.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. We weren't there for Becca. We will be there for you, Emma."

"It's not exactly something to see. I'm going to die. It's not as though I'm graduating from school or getting married," I mumbled.

"That's alright. We want you to know how much we love you."

"I already know how much. I know that I'm not going to die alone."

"Stop saying that!" Nathan shouted standing up.

"What?" I asked.

"That you're dying. Stop."

"But I am," I replied, looking at him in confusion.

"I don't care. I don't want to hear you say you're dying again!" He stormed out of the holding cell and down the hallway.

"What's wrong with him?" Dad asked.

"What do you think?" Andrew snapped, glaring at us. "You're putting a lot on his shoulders. Nobody wants to be responsible for killing someone. You should never have asked him."

I stared at the man in disbelief.

He's mad at me? How can he be mad at me?

I sat on the floor hugging my knees. Not only was I going to die, but I also felt guilty.

"Andrew can do it," I mumbled while staring at the ground.

"What?" everyone asked in unison.

"He's right. I can't put that on Nathan. Andrew can do it."

"When you're ready I'll do it."

"I'm still alive!" I cried out. Asshole.

"You're not going to kill her while she's alive are you?"

"If you don't want me to," he answered, shrugging his shoulders.

"How can you be so casual about this?"

"I've been doing it for four years. It gets easier," he grumbled.

The man looked at me with such contempt in his eyes. I wondered if he took some sort of sick joy in the death of others. Shivers ran up and down my spine. Terror gripped my heart. I didn't want to die.