I looked like Carrie. Okay, maybe not as bad as Carrie, but it was still pretty gross. My clothing, my arms, all covered in blood. Especially my hair. I was starting to wonder if cutting it off wouldn't be such a bad idea because not only did it look gross, curls made crunchy and black by the mess, but it smelled terrible. The ebony warrior was in the same state, patches of maroon stained his dark skin, a single, thick, drop of blood ready to drop from the end of his twists. We stood, staring at one another with what I guessed were similar expressions. He definitely looked like how I felt, chocolate brown eyes wide, mouth parted in shock, his breath coming in quickened pants.
We stumbled for the reception desk, quickly ducking behind it and sitting against the wall. We wiped our bloody hands on the carpet below us. He leaned his arm on the baseball bat at his side, and I rested my gun by the wall with a hefty sigh.
"You're one hell of a shot," he said to break the deafening silence and I found myself giggling at this to relieve my own tension, but mostly because I was glad to be alive.
"Wish I had enough strength to swing a bat like you though," I breathed as I moved a hand over my pounding heart, "You were so amazing I wish I filmed it."
He chuckled at my compliment and he turned his head to look at me, "I don't know," he said with humor in his voice, "you don't see too many girls wielding guns."
I glanced over, then looked upward to smile at the ceiling, "I'm the next Lara Croft."
"Amy Croft, then?" He asked.
"Yeah," I couldn't help the smile that came over my face when he said this, "So you know my name, what's yours?"
"Riley," he said as he held out his hand to shake mine.
I took his and said, "Looks like we're going to be friends whether we like it or not, huh?"
"We'll learn to like it," he said with a playful smirk.
I rolled my eyes and pushed myself up, "Alright, come on, let's get you out of here. I'm with my--" I always paused thinking of what to call Lex. He wasn't family. He was just my mother's friend from way back in the day. For all intents and purposes, I guess he was my uncle. Or like an uncle. Families are weird like that.
Then it dawned on me that Lex had been out there by himself the entire time. He had the vantage point when I left, but still. Even someone like him couldn't take a horde on by himself if they blind sided him.
I could feel my heart leap as I grabbed my gun from the ground, "Just come on."
My run quickened when I could hear Riley's heavy footsteps behind me.
"Lex!" I started yelling, "Lex, I'm okay! Start the truck!"
I didn't hear the engine, but then again, I was still fairly far away from it. I wouldn't blame him for not hearing me.
"Lex!" I ran as fast as my feet could carry me, and I couldn't help but smile as I did, "You should have seen it! I took them all on with Riley's help. I told you coming here would be a good idea!" I could see the truck a few feet away, and Lex sat inside, looking to something on the console or steering wheel, I couldn't tell which.
"Start up the truck! I'll tell you all about it!" Relief flooded my chest and I could feel myself smiling so big in a cocky sort of pride that it almost hurt.
When Lex looked up to me, he was pale, and sweat beaded his forehead.
My look immediately dropped when I got close and peered in.
Lex had wrapped his arm in a rag that he must have gotten from God knows where within the interior. Not only was it dirty, but now it was soaked with blood. Not like the zombie blood, theirs is a deep, rusted color, like blood dried on the skin. No, this was rich and red. This was fresh. This was Lex's blood and my heart sank.
"I wish you could, Amy," he said in a soft, strained voice.