I Didn’t Even Think

By Lana Forrest

As the drizzling rain seeped into my shirt, I only had one thought on my mind. Tasha. 

Where was she? Was she okay? Every time I heard a female scream, my nerves felt like they’d lit themselves on fire, and it took everything in my willpower to not start violently sobbing. 

I raced through the streets, the ongoing conflict around me forgotten as my gaze searched the area around me wildly. Any sign of her, I prayed silently. Any sign of her, and everything will be okay. Whether everyone else died or not didn’t matter to me, that’s how crucial Tasha was to me. 

I heard screams for my help behind me; “Connor!” they screamed, but for once I was done. I was over it. I’d let the whole world tear itself apart before I chose them over Tasha. Because for once- for one goddamn time in my life- I was not about to let someone tell me who I had to pick. 

I picked my pace up, as fast as I could go without slipping on the concrete. The rain was steadily picking up, the droplets hitting me harder than before as I kept going.

“Tasha!” I called out frantically, eyes scanning every yard I passed, every doorstep, every single place where she could be. 

I could feel myself trembling slightly as I kept going. God, my blood pressure must be through the roof at this point. Whatever- it didn’t matter. She mattered. She was my priority. 

I stumbled into a run down building, drywall peaking through the walls as I glanced around. “Tasha!” I yelled it this time, looking through every room, before I headed up the stairs. They were unsteady, creaking under my every step, but I ignored it as I lunged myself up them to the top.

My eyes lightly scanned the floor as my body moved on its own. I didn’t need to think. In fact, I don’t think I remembered how to think clearly, with all the flashes of the places where Tasha could be, with all the injuries she could have, how she.. No. That is why I needed to stop thinking. 

I shook the wave of poisoned clarity off of me, and kept searching. One room, two, four, and she was nowhere. My hands trembled as I opened the final room’s door. How on earth the doors had stayed closed, in place, with all the commotion on the streets felt eerily wrong, but I was too focused to question it. 

“Tasha,” I said hoarsely. I stumbled in, barely registering the massive bed that stood in front of me, as I looked around for her. All of her. I didn’t know what I’d do if I found her hand, or her arm, or her leg, or God, anything but her head. I couldn’t entertain the thought long, thankfully- due to both feeling the house shake beneath me, as well as the fact that my mind couldn’t focus on a single thought right now, besides Tasha. 

The house shook again, as if to tell me to get the hell out of dodge- that’s what my uncle would say, anyway- so I took the opportunity to race back downstairs. I’d barely made it out of the door before I saw what was causing all of the ruckus.

A whole new wave of soldiers marched their way past me, and I caught my breath as I watched them, their footsteps uncannily in sync, their faces void of expression. Not a single one glanced at me, and I couldn’t tell whether or not that made me more or less uncomfortable. 

I tore my gaze away from the mass of soldiers and concentrated on the buildings around me. She could be anywhere- that was probably the worst part. She could be anywhere around here. Someone could find her first. Someone could.. Stop. No. Stop thinking, Connor. 

I started off again, this time checking every room I could reach, calling out until my throat burned. I was starving, I was shaking, I think I was crying too. God, where was she? 

The tears on my face dried quickly enough, with the wind picking up around me as the buildings thinned, now more scattered around. The rain had stopped, letting nearby embers jump from wood that had been tossed on the streets from torn apart houses, lighting themselves before dimming, the process repeating itself. 

I gazed at the ruins before me numbly. Was Tasha okay? Was she under a pile of a building? Buildings, maybe? Oh for the love of- Connor, shut up. 

I forced myself to shuffle on, the sound of my feet kicking gravel almost imperceptible due to the ongoing stomping of the soldiers' feet behind me. 

I felt myself shudder. Whether it was from exhaustion, or from hunger, or from a mix of both, I couldn’t quite distinguish. I pulled myself to an alley, sinking against the weathered brick wall, leaning my head back. I closed my eyes, squeezing them shut as hard as I could, before I opened them. I didn’t want to risk seeing her, in any way shape or form, unless she was right in front of me. Until I knew she was okay. 

After a moment of hesitation, I decided against my own well being, and used the wall to help me up. I took in a breath; my muscles were still weary, still aching, but even that quick pause had helped. I looked around the street suspiciously before starting to walk down it again. 

I called her name as I pushed myself forward, eyes darting around. I felt my resolve crumbling, my hope draining from my body like someone had taken a needle and stuck it in my arm. What if someone else had found her? Hurt her? Killed her? Taken her? What if she’d been infected? Jesus, for the last time, I had to stop thinking. 

“Connor?” 

I froze. The hairs on the back of my neck rose as I slowly turned. Now in front of me lay an area full of rubble and rubbage, some covered with gunpowder, others, like furniture, torn, as if fabric had been collected from it. 

“Under..” the voice coughed out. Within seconds, my eyes landed on a couch, as it jolted slightly, the voice coming from someone underneath. 

I was next to it in seconds, helping the person lift it out of the way so they could crawl out from underneath where it had been perched on scraps of wood. 

I pulled the person up, hands trembling, eyes scanning her face. I didn’t get much time to admire her, of course, before she threw her arms around my neck, face pressed against my shoulder, as she started to tremble.

“Tasha,” I choked out. I wrapped my arms around her, burying my nose in her hair as I held her shaking body. I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t ask if she was okay- with the whole pandemic and battles, no one was ‘okay’. Not anymore.

She seemed to stop shaking so much in my arms, though tremors still ran through her occasionally. “I thought you’d stop looking,” she breathed. “I stayed put. I- I didn’t know where to go, I didn’t know where you were, I didn’t know where anyone was,” she started to sob. I sank to the cold ground with her still in my arms, holding her tighter. 

“They got me,” she whimpered. I froze. I pulled away from her, just enough to be able to look at her face- God, she was gorgeous- as I brushed her hair out of her face. “What?” I asked, my tone even.

Her lip trembled. “I’m bit. Infected,” she managed. It was my turn to start shaking, as she gripped me tighter. 

“No, no, no, no!” I practically snarled the words. “No. You.. you can’t.. you ‘re not allowed to become like them, Tasha,” I said desperately, as she cupped my face, tears welling up in her eyes. “I know, I know,” she soothed, as I scanned her face in distress, looking for any sign, any miniscule sign of playfulness in her tired, sad eyes. 

“Tasha, you can’t,” I breathed. “You can’t die,” I said, my tone turning determined. “We’ll find a way. I’ll help you; we’ll find somewhere where we’ll be alone. We’ll find a doctor, get them to help you,” I started to ramble, as she just gazed at me with a sad smile. She stroked my cheek with her thumb, pressing her lips against mine softly, before pulling away. 

“No,” she said simply. I opened my mouth to protest, but her face made the words die in my throat, and she continued. 

“I don’t want to live in this kind of world, Connor. I won’t live in this world.” Her right hand moved down, from my face to my hand, as she placed hers on top of mine. She moved my hand off of her, and reached behind her, pulling the bag I hadn’t spotted before next to her. 

“Tash-” I started again, but she silenced me again. She pressed something cold into my hands and I shuddered. 

“I won’t.” I said, but she pressed it deeper into my hand. “I can’t,” I insisted, tears welling up in my own eyes. “I can’t even think about doing something like that,” I choked. 

She gave me a pitiful glance, before a sad, empathetic smile came onto her face.

“Then don’t think,” she murmured. I heard a click, before she pressed her lips against mine, and I shuddered. 

“I love you,” I breathed, and she nodded, tears starting to fall for both of us, as I aimed, turning away, as I pulled the trigger. I didn’t even think.

By Lana Forrest