“We need to do this every half hour. Don’t let me forget.”
Norman moves closer to Patrick, his eyes piecing through the teenager.
“Okay?! Don’t let me forget! We can’t forget, we can’t.”
The slender boy grips his own arm, tilting his head down, his eyes racing back and forth.
“Oh, Patrick, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just, it’s very important that we do this. They wont be able to find us, we have to help them. We’re leaving them, but we’re not abandoning them. Jack’s blood is too important, we can’t put it at risk. I didn’t want to leave Daisy, I know you didn’t either, but we had no choice. Karo can take care of himself, but-but he is one of us now too and-”
Norman reaches out to the startled boy, but Patrick pulls away.
“Hey, hey, I’m sorry that I scared you. I was upset with myself that I didn’t think about this earlier. Everything is going to be alright. We’re going to leave a trail for them to follow, they’ll find us. It’s going to be alright.”
Norman isn’t sure if he’s reassuring Patrick or himself, maybe both. He has to believe the words he’s saying, otherwise they just left Karo and Daisy to die. If they kill the infected, but can’t find himself and Patrick, what reason was there for them to stay behind? “No, this will work” he thinks to himself, “It has to.”
Norman stops for a few minutes every half hour, or what he gauges to be about every half hour, leaves behind a piece of cloth on a tree and checks the map. He continues this process for about five hours, until dusk has begun to set it. The two disheveled wanders search for a suitable place to make camp for the night, but Norman isn’t accustomed to doing this. Jack would always find their resting points, and once Karo came along that became his undertaking.
Patrick isn’t much help in the camp-site department either. The boy meekly follows Norman, not speaking, or reacting to the worried man’s soft conversation to himself. Somewhere around twenty minutes after night has fully set in Norman is at a loss. He hasn’t found anywhere appropriate for them to wait until the morning comes.
Their surroundings aren’t very helpful in his pursuit of a safe place to recharge. They’re in the middle of a forest, large trees, and thick bushes are all that surround them. Finally, Norman accepts the thought he’d been having, but didn’t want to give in to.
“Alright Patrick, I don’t like this, and I know you wont either, but we can’t keep aimlessly wandering about like this. We’re going to rip up some shrubs, climb into that thick bush over there, and hide out for the night.”
The night passes as the duo lay uncomfortably, shrouded by bushes, sticks poking into their backs, and rocks creating sore spots on their body. Norman slipped in and out of sleep for hours, until the breaking dawn neared. His mind groggy, his body throbbing, he arose as soon as the darkness was splashed with the first hint of light.
Their trek resumed, and Norman continued to stop and leave behind pieces of cloth, checking the map each time to ensure their course is correct. Early dawn gave way to a bright morning, then a clouded afternoon. Norman rambles to himself, unable to keep his thoughts pent up, and every so often includes Patrick in his one sided conversation--his attempt to let the boy know he isn’t alone
“Jack and I would go on hikes every now and then. He loved taking them in the fall, just as the leaves were starting to turn and the weather was enough to require a jacket. He never really could explain why that was his favorite time of year, but it was.”
He’s gaze searches the forest, finding the ground after a moment. A light chuckle escapes him through his curved lips.
“He was a good man, wholesome and kind. It’s a wonder he was able to survive this new world as long as he did. I know I never would have if it weren’t for him.”
A tear dribbles down his cheek. His hand wipes it away. He glances over his shoulder to Patrick, the boy lagging just slightly behind him and a bit off to the side.
“Jack wasn’t the first person I loved, you know. I was in love before Jack, a few times, but he is the person whose face I see when I think of love. He was, I’ll never be able to let him go. I’ll always see his face when I close my eyes. I think, I think that’s okay. I don’t want to lose him. I don’t want to not think of him every day. I don’t want things to stop reminding me of him. He made me want to be a better person. He was, he is, a big part of my life. I don’t ever want to forget that.”
Norman’s head tilts up to the sky, scanning over the clouds. His hand extends from his forehead, offering a small shade.
“We all lose people, that’s just part of life. It’s the worst part, but we all experience it. It’s something that connects us, keeps us bound together. We never want to go through it, we ne-”
Norman’s thought is interrupted by Patrick heavily bumping into him, and brushing off his backside at an odd angle. He turns to his side to investigate, the boy yelps, and Norman freezes--they’re not alone. Lost in his thoughts Norman’s defenses lowered. He’d stopped listening to the forest, he didn’t notice the rustling of branches, nor the new scent permeating through the air.
Patrick flails, he grunts and moans. A dry, gurgled scream of anguish sprints from him, his voice breaking halfway through it. The infected is old and tattered, short
