NOVEL WEB Chapter 4: He Didn’t Tell Them Because He Liked Them
Jay got bitten on a Tuesday.
Probably.
Time was slippery now, like soap.
They were scavenging a pharmacy that used to sell foot cream and hope.
He saw something move, then it was on him.
He screamed — not out loud, of course. Just the inside kind.
The kind that doesn't help.
He stabbed it with a broken crutch.
Then again.
Then again.
No one saw.
No one ever sees.
He sat in aisle three, next to the adult diapers and the shampoo no one steals, and looked at the wound.
Just a nibble.
Just enough to ruin everything.
He didn't tell the group.
Not because he wanted to hurt them.
Because he liked them.
Liked the way Lou always said "we'll be okay" even when they wouldn't.
Liked that Casey let him have the window seat in the van like it meant something.
Liked the way Darren sang show tunes to scare off the infected, as if musical theater had ever saved anyone.
They were good people.
The kind who deserved to live.
Or at least deserved to die for better reasons.
He thought maybe it wouldn't happen.
Maybe he was special.
Maybe the bite wasn't deep.
Maybe the virus was tired that day.
(He'd heard of miracles.
He just hadn't seen one survive past Act I.)
They made camp that night under the wreck of a billboard that used to sell happiness in pill form.
The fire was low.
The sky was red like it knew something.
Jay laughed at someone's joke.
A real laugh, not the kind that hides behind your teeth.
He felt human.
Except for the sweating.
The shaking.
The throb in his leg like it was remembering another heartbeat.
"It's cold," he said.
Darren gave him a blanket.
Casey gave him soup.
Lou gave him a look. The kind that notices. But not enough to ask.
The fever came at midnight.
Jay watched the stars blink out, one by one.
They weren't really stars.
Just holes poked in the dark by people who left.
He thought about confessing.
He almost whispered, "Guys, I'm bitten,"
But then Casey asked him to hold her hand.
So he did.
Because it felt rude to ruin the moment.
He turned just before dawn.
Not dramatically.
No twitching or screaming.
Just a slow unraveling.
His skin went pale.
His eyes forgot how to blink.
His mouth remembered hunger.
He stood.
He didn't mean to.
Feet are traitors that way.
Lou was first.
A neck is soft if you know where to press.
She didn't scream.
She just made a surprised sound, like someone who dropped a glass.
Then Casey.
Then Darren.
All of them.
He loved them all, and that's the worst part.
He didn't even get to say goodbye.
Only got to feed.
When morning came, there were no campfire stories.
No jokes.
No plans for the day.
Just silence.
And a boy with dried blood on his cheeks, sitting in the middle of the mess he made.
Trying to remember their names.
Later, someone would find the scene.
Assume it was a raid.
Maybe wolves. Maybe Raiders. Maybe a monster.
They'd be wrong.
It was just Jay.
Just a kid.
Who got bit.
Who didn't tell anyone.
Because he liked them too much.