It's been three days, and Bethany's lying in bed, gasping for air, drenched in sweat, arms secured to her body.
Her friends are outside the room in the main part of the RV. Paisley's sitting cross-legged on the table, Zekey in her arms.
"Slate, she's weird. I mean, it is. Bitten three days ago, she's running a fever, exhausted, barely eating, barely drinking, muscle soreness, headaches, but she's still alive and nowhere near the death state.
People bitten, people dying of infections or whatever it is, they all turn anywhere from five minutes to three days. Yeah, Solayo and the others took people away never to be seen again if they we're bit, sick or dying. They looked worse than Beth." Lyla points out.
"What are you talking about?" He responds.
"When Solayo and the others bought me and Beth back to the compound by force, we told them we we're immune. It was stupid, we just blurted it out for no reason, maybe to buy time so we didn't get taken downstairs.
I confessed to lying, but Beth refused to admit so they took me downstairs and she stayed behind.
Do you think... do you think she knew, they knew something we didn't. Can people be immune?
She's not well, but she hardly seems like she's dying."
"People aren't immune, Lyla."
"How do we know that for sure? They erased our memories, Slate. We lost years of our lives, we don't remember our parents, if we had siblings, what we like, who we we're before this zombie shit show."
"And if you're right, we're wrong. She's bitten, we can't go to a settlement of survivors with her.
They will kill her. What do we do? We're not capable of surviving alone out here, and you want to lead, but let's face it, I am infact a shitty leader!
I only know what Mikey and Grayson taught me which did not include compassion and so fourth."
"Beth?" Paisley speaks, tilting her head. They hear sputtering. "Oh, fuck. She's turning!" Gideon says paniced. Slate unholsters his gun and moves towards the room. He peers in, seeing Beth shaking.
"Is she turning?" Lyla asks horrified.
"She's convulsing."
"Shit." Gideon speaks up. "Didn't she have shakes before?" Paisley speaks up.
"Seizures, Paisley." Gideon corrects her.
---
Bethany convulsed for over eight minutes straight. There was nothing they could do to stop it, and the restraints we're hurting her so Slate cut them with a knife, slightly cutting her lower arm.
"She convulsed for eight minutes..." Gideon whispers.
"Anything over five is an emergency." Lyla speaks up. Bethany's lying there now still, and unconsciousness. Lyla lowers her face to above Beth's, nervous that she could wake up and bite her.
"I can only just feel her breathing." Then she takes Beth's pulse. "It's faint, but it's there."
"Is she brain damaged?" Gideon asks.
"I don't know, Gideon! We have no way of knowing!"
"W-what happened to my arm?" Her voice small.
They all look down at her horrified. "You're fucking awake?" Lyla asks horrified. Slate takes a seat on the bed beside Bethany.
"I'm here, right here. We're here, it's okay. You're okay." He tells her.
"Slate, she shouldn't even be-" Lyla tries to argue with him.
"Lyla, shut up. I don't want to hear it."
"But Slate-"
"Get out!"
"Lyla, let's go. It's almost lunch time and you have a sister in the main part of the RV with a dog, both of whom are probably hungry." Gideon argues. "
And I'm starving, so..."
They leave for the front part of the RV. Slate pulls Bethany close, her head resting on his shoulder.
"W-what happened to my a-arm?"
"I cut it accidentally, I'm sorry. You we're having a seizure and the restraints we're hurting you."
"C-can I have some food and water? Please?"
"Sure, are you going to be okay here alone for me to get you something?"
"Lyla and Gideon won't like that. They want me... restrained. I turn and go ravenous, you all die."
"It's been three days. In a couple of hours, four. You're... immune, Beth. And you're awake and talking fine after a long seizure just now."
"What if it's just delayed?"
"Delayed? Bullshit. No one has ever been delayed. You're either immune or you aren't, and you're immune.
Now, I'm going to get you some food and water. You just take it easy here, rest up."
Slate sits with Bethany at the front of the RV, him in the drivers seat and her in the passengars, both eating dinner while Slate studies the map.
The others wanted to get some sleep so they took the bedroom, kicking Bethany out of it so Slate bought her upfront to help him.
"Slate, I'm not good at maps."
"It's okay. You don't have to do it, Beth. Just relax and rest. I'll handle the work for both of us."
"They don't want to be around me, Slate."
"Yes they do. They're your friends."
"Four days, and still bitten. How long do we let this go on for? I don't turn, what happenes?
That place on the map, it's our saving grace. Well, your saving grace. I'm bitten. Any other person that's not you would kill me without waiting to give me chances."
"If they're going to kill you, Beth. We won't go there, we'll figure something else out. I'll tear the map up right now."
He begins to tear the map up when she pulls it from his hands. "Don't you dare! This is the difference between life and death. What happened out there up at that building on the edge of the mountains almost killed us.
If it weren't for Evelyn, Lindsey and Noah we'd be dead for sure! I don't want to be the reason you all suffer and die.
Maybe you should still just shoot me, Slate."
"No! I'm not going to do that!"
"You promised!"
"If you we're dying! And you're not!"
"If you won't do it, I'll do it myself!"
When he jumps on her, pinning her wrists together. "Get off me, you bastard!" She screams, him holding her and drags her to the bedroom, waking up the others.
"What the fuck, Slate?!" Lyla lectures him. "What are you doing?" Gideon asks, groggy.
Paisley looks at the situation, blankly. "We should go to the kitchen. Midnight snack, anyone?" She says, no emotion in her voice.
Gideon perks right up. "Now, you're speaking my language!" He smiles, helping Lyla up and they head to the kitchen. Paisley picks up Zekey, carrying him in her arms.
When the bedroom door closes, Slate harshly throws Bethany to the bed, tying her wrists up to the posts and her feet together.
"You're a traitor! You're a traitor, you're not loyal and you're not a leader!" She whimpers, saying everything she can to hurt him.
He sits down, hands together and just watches her, taking it. He leans his head into his hand, tired and yawns. Eventually she grows tired and falls asleep and he lays down on the floor beside the bed, closing his eyes.
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