The night crept in heavy and cold, wrapping the mall in silence. What should have been a haven had turned into a dim-lit prison of groans, fever, and suspicion.
Sasha was worse now. Her skin burned with fever, damp hair clinging to her forehead, the stench of rot rising faintly from her wound. She pressed herself against the wall, teeth clenched, trying to hold in her shivers.
Kelvin crouched a few feet away, eyes sharp, lips pressed into a hard line. He hadn't said it aloud, but the question was written across his face: how long before she turns?
Lisa avoided Sasha's gaze entirely, nibbling at stale cereal with trembling fingers. Tori whispered nervously in the corner, wringing her hands, glancing at the wound then away as though the sight alone would doom her.
None of them moved to help.
It was Lexi who broke the silence.
"I… I think I know what to do."
Her voice was soft, hesitant, like she wasn't sure if speaking was a mistake. Their eyes snapped to her instantly—disbelief, annoyance, suspicion.
"You?" Tori scoffed. "What could you possibly know?"
Lexi swallowed, shrinking back as if the words cut. But she pressed on. "If the wound spreads, she'll die. Or worse. I can… cut the bad part away. Burn it closed."
Sasha's eyes narrowed, fevered yet sharp. "You just want to stick a knife in me, freak."
Lexi shook her head quickly, eyes wide, hands trembling in practiced fear. "No—I don't want anyone to die. I can help, if you let me."
Kelvin's gaze flicked between them. He didn't trust Lexi, but Sasha's breaths were coming ragged, her skin clammy. Finally, he muttered: "It's that or watch you rot."
The "surgery" was crude.
Kelvin held the flashlight. Lisa and Tori looked away, gagging at the smell. Lexi crouched with knife, alcohol, and a makeshift torch of cloth and broken wood.
"Hold still," she whispered.
Sasha cursed through clenched teeth, but she didn't resist.
Lexi pressed the alcohol-soaked rag against the wound. Sasha's scream tore through the quiet mall. The sound echoed, sharp and raw, bouncing off the empty storefronts like a warning.
Then came the knife.
Lexi's hands trembled visibly, sweat dripping down her temples, though her mind was a steel trap. She cut away the deadened flesh carefully, precisely, every slice calculated. Sasha cursed and spat at her, tears streaking her fevered face.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" she hissed between ragged breaths.
Lexi blinked, eyes wide with hurt. "I'm trying to help."
And then the fire, Lexi pressed the glowing tip of the torch against the wound. The stench of seared flesh filled the air, mingling with Sasha's screams until her body sagged against the wall, unconscious but alive.
The others said nothing. They simply looked at Sasha, then at Lexi—half in horror, half in relief—and turned away.
Lexi wiped her bloody hands on a rag, head bowed, shoulders shaking as though she was about to cry. Inside, her thoughts were calculative.
Later, when they split into compartments of the mall to rest, Lexi was sent to an abandoned clothing store alone.
"Stay there," Kelvin said gruffly. "We'll… keep watch on Sasha. Don't sneak around."
She nodded meekly, hugging herself as though wounded by his distrust.
But once the shadows closed in, Lexi moved.
Her small frame slipped through aisles, her eyes scanning with predator patience. Behind the pharmacy counter, she found them: antibiotics, painkillers, bandages. Most expired—but some still usable.
She tucked them into her clothes quietly, sliding pills into a ripped shoe lining, tucking bandages beneath her new jacket, taping strips of medicine flat against her ribs. Every movement was clean, methodical, unseen.
When she finally returned to her compartment, she curled up in the corner, knees to chest, the perfect picture of the bullied girl discarded by her peers.
But her eyes, hidden in the dark, gleamed as her lips pull into a smirk.