As he lay here now in their tent, shivering, his skin burning, his mind melting, these are the thoughts that come to him. He regrets allowing himself to become this way. It wasn’t right, and it wasn’t fair to his family. He pushed them away. He retreated into himself and blocked out anything that made him feel.
Why did he come back to their campsite? Why did he lie to Kylie? Why is he still laying here next to them? He’s being selfish, he’s putting them in danger. He’s doing it because he’s afraid. He doesn’t want to accept what happens next.
He wasn’t attacked by a group of people. He’d become reckless lately. He knows he could’ve avoided the group of infected. There were only three of them. He could’ve gone back to his family, packed up their stuff, and moved immediately, but he didn’t.
Seeing the infected made him angry. They reminded of his brother, of his nephews, of his sister-in-law. He gave into his anger. He attacked them, and in doing so lost the food he had gathered. He was careless, he was selfish.
The infected scratched and cut him. He didn’t know if the disease could be transferred that way, and he was too afraid to consider it. So he lied to himself, and he lied to Kylie.
He shivers, his skin burns, and his mind melts. He is infected. He knows this now. He shouldn’t be here, he shouldn’t be near them. He should’ve left when he first started feeling it creep into his bones. He’s afraid. He doesn’t want to be alone. He doesn’t want to die.
Maybe this is what happened to Pete and his family. They refused to accept the situation they were in. He can’t let that happen to his family. They don’t deserve that. He doesn’t get to be selfish, he doesn’t deserve that choice.
His insides hurt now, his head pounds, his legs twitch. The disease is working quicker than he thought it would. He doesn’t have much time left. He can feel it. He can’t do this to them. He needs to leave, and he has to do it now.
He rolls to his stomach, groaning from the pain. He tries to suppress his noise, but is only mildly successful. He pushes himself up to his knees, and takes a deep breath. An ache runs through his whole body. His muscles feel sore, as though he had been in a gym for a week with no breaks.
His shirt is wet and sticks to his body. Sweat drips from his forehead splashing onto the floor of the tent. The moonlight dimly shines in through the rip in the top of the tent. The rip Kylie had asked him to fix weeks ago. The rip he neglected. Another mistake from a man who can’t even call himself a man anymore.
He takes one last look at his wife and his son. A wife who gave up everything for her family. A wife who devoted herself to the fullest extent to him, and to their son. A wife he hasn’t come close to honoring as much as she deserves.
Patrick, his beautiful, joyous boy. He’s never met anyone who looks at the world with the wonder that he does. Even now, in the hell they live in, this boy awes at life and at nature. He likes feeling the wind flow through his clothes, he likes seeing the leaves turn colors, he likes starring up at the night sky and gazing at the stars. He finds so much worth in life. He’s the purest soul Markus has ever known.
It’s an odd thing to take one last look, and to know it is the last. It’s an odd thought to have, an odd realization to come to. He allows this to flood his mind, to fill his body, to spark to life the heart he’s tried so hard to bury. He allows the walls he’s built to crumble. He allows the dam he blocks his emotions with to crack and shatter. He allows himself to feel.
He takes this all in until it overwhelms him. His face runs hot, his eyes wet, his heart pounds, and he weeps. Quietly at first, until he feels himself falling to the place he wont be able to return from. He hastily reaches for the zipper on the tent door and pulls it down, opening it just enough for him to slip out. He closes the door back up, and stumbles to the dried out fire pit a few paces away.
His defenses are fully worn down. His emotions have reached their highest peak. He collapses to his knees, his hands press into the dirt, and his head rests on the ground. He feels the final break coming, and he doesn’t try to stop it. He sobs like a man full of regret, a man that failed at being a protector, at being a husband, at being a father, at being a person. A man that failed his family, that failed himself.
The pain in his gut shifts from a stabbing to a squeezing, a pain that is rapidly engulfing his whole body. His vision is beginning to blur, his thoughts are beginning to fade. He can’t feel the dirt even though he knows he’s gripping it. It’s almost time. He has to run.
With all the might he can muster he pushes against the ground until his knees are under him. He forces himself up to his feet. He staggers forward not knowing where he’s going, and not caring, as long as he gets far away from here.
He moves as quickly as his body will let him. He stumbles and sways knocking into trees. He pushes away from them and continues on down a trail to nowhere. His eyes feel heavy, but he knows if he closes them that when they open again it’s
