Love & Decay, Episode 11 by Rachel Higginson

Chapter One
     
    706 Days after initial infection
     
                  For the first time since the initial vaccination turned that unsuspecting human into a flesh-loving-cannibal with the power to infect and destroy anything it nibbled on, I missed silence.
                  In fact, currently I craved it- I was almost desperate for it. 
                  For the last two years, I’d been frustrated with the lack of background noise: The way traffic didn’t buzz or honk outside my window, the way planes didn’t zoom above my head, there wasn’t neighborhood kids laughing or screaming as they ran around the yard, not even the animals made sound these days. They seemed just as cognizant of the constant threat looming over them as humans did.
                  The constant, forced silence disconcerted me, sent my head spinning and my ears ringing from the sheer intensity of it.
                  I hated it.
                  Loathed it.
                  Believed it would be the official end of my sanity.
                  Until it went missing, replaced with the incessant groaning of hungry Feeders banging on the door just a few feet from where I pretended to sleep.
                  They were everywhere- or it seemed they were. I hadn’t been able to look outside since the initial moments Kane and I had locked ourselves in the safety of this bunker. But the slamming of their fists against the heavy metal door and the ungodly screeching as their elongated fingernails scratched in a desperate attempt to reach us, echoed through the small space that had turned from safe haven into claustrophobic prison hours ago.
                  I rolled my head to the side and squinted into the darkness just to see if I could make out Kane’s figure sprawled across the couch. We were trying to “conserve” every battery and resource we had, so we’d decided to turn everything off when we went to sleep.
                  We hoped help would be here soon, but planned for if it wasn’t.
                  Now, I felt the heavy darkness settle over me like a coffin with only the pounding fists to occupy my racing thoughts and increasing paranoia. I focused on my breathing, struggling to make it even, frantic to calm my hysteria.
                  “Reagan,” Kane called through the distance. He felt miles away, he felt light years away. In this moment he represented safety and protection. I hated that I started to see him as something other than a monster, but I was helpless to stop my emotions from abandoning me in favor of grasping at anything to bring reassurance. Kane was all I had right now. And he had saved my life. That meant we were bonded in some unbreakable way. There were thoughts I should be feeling and there were thoughts I shouldn’t be feeling cartwheeling through my brain and tangling together in an impossible slew of confusion. I would sort them out later. When I was firmly out of this shit storm.
                  “I thought you were asleep.” Honestly, I hadn’t known either way, it was too dark for me to see and too loud for me to tell by his breathing. But the way he said my name was like this invitation into some deep thought on his part, so I was deflecting.
                  My pathetic attempt at controlling the conversation was bulldozed when he said, “We are going to be alright.”
                  I heard myself whimper in response and forbidden tears slipped from the corners of my eyes and tracked hotly down my temples, only to slide down my jawline and pool in the curve of my neck. I didn’t bother to wipe them away. I didn’t even want to acknowledge they were there or that this impossible predicament had gotten me so worked up.
                  I was used to close calls and living seconds away from death. I was used to the