Of course, I was asked how I knew she'd be there, and I told everyone what happened last night. Without even looking at her, I could just feel the heat coming off Kat. She hobbled back to her room on her crutches and slammed the door rather loud. The rest of us had an unprompted moment of silence, sad because we lost one of our own, more so because no one had a chance to get to know her.
Nicholas and I handled burying the body where shortly after, everyone but Kat came outside and we had a makeshift funeral. Sandra took out a cross made from tongue depressors, each one decorated with an angel, and stuck it in the ground where Cheyenne's head would be. That child is certainly special, and that gesture was so kind-hearted, no one walked away without a tear. Even the hardened Carmello had trails of wetness on his face.
I went back to Kat's room and sat across from her, and was greeted with a slap. Mentally exhausted, I just had no energy to react and kept my face looking to the right where Kat's hand left it. She was furious at me for not telling her, for trying to keep things from her. She accused me of wanting to be with her in that closet, accused me of going all the way with her. I stayed silent, waiting for her to finish her verbal assault on me when she finally asked me what I had to say. That's when I told her Cheyenne's story. She had a hard time accepting it, but eventually nodded.
I wasn't off the hook yet, though. I damaged her trust by not telling her what happened in that closet right away, so she said she needed to know what I dreamed about, and that I couldn't leave the room unless I never wanted her to talk to me again. I gritted my teeth, but she was right. If we were to be anything, we couldn't keep anything from each other, and I had to get it out.
I told her every detail about that dream. I told that I still care for Johanna, that I still love her and how guilty I feel and worried I am that I've fallen for Kat so quickly. I expected her to slap my face again, but she held out her arms and motioned me to come to her, and I did. She hugged me tightly, and I started to cry. She pulled away so that we were looking into each other's eyes and said she fully understood, and that I needed to not feel guilty. She was positive that Johanna would want me to be happy, because this world is so unhappy, and that by living the rest of my life alone, it would be more torturous than escaping from a million zombies. But I HAD to stop keeping things from her.
After we talked a bit more, I left her room to talk to Nicholas. On the way, I poked my head into Timothy's room to see if he had a second, and I grabbed him. Nicholas, being a doctor and Timothy being a self-proclaimed zombie expert, where the two people I wanted to talk to most at that moment, because I had a theory. I told both of them Cheyenne's story, about how she was infected with at least the blood-borne strain and was spreading it around as an STD. Nicholas was figuring out what I was getting at, but he let me finish.
It's my belief that in Cheyenne's bloodstream was an antibody against the entire vivensmortua virus. In order for her to transmit the blood-borne strain to someone else via sexual intercourse, the virus needed to be alive without actually making her sick. Whereas the rest of us don't get sick from the airborne and blood borne strains because our immune systems immediately destroy the virus, Cheyenne's immune system blocked the virus from ever taking hold, and I had a hunch the virus tried propagating and even mutating and that she had all three strains. I knew this to be a ghoulish suggestion, but I made it anyway. I suggested that we exhume the body and test the saliva. I wished I thought of this before we buried her, but I needed to know.
We did it with discretion. Once we pulled her wrapped up body out of the ground, Nicholas unwrapped her head and scraped the film off her teeth and deposited it into a test tube. He did so skittishly, as if she'd come back at any moment and chomp his hand. He wrapped her back up and we laid her back in the ground, but before the first shovel of dirt was dumped, he took the shovel and drove the blade into her head for safe keeping. Hearing the crunch of her skull put his mind to rest and honestly mine as well. Although I never saw a dead body reanimate, I simply didn't want to find out if one could.
After several hours, he came back with the results, and he found her saliva teeming with the virus. He said something to me that I already knew he was going to say. Cheyenne had the cure in her blood, which was now unsalvageable. Nothing could be done at this point. Our salvation has been denied to us, and I blame myself.
I have failed to keep my emotions in check. Keeping control of your emotions is not only important when dealing with zombies, but also important when dealing with people. I shouldn't have left Cheyenne alone in that closet last night. I was just so freaked out by her that I wanted to leave immediately. Even if I left her, I should have gone back to check on her when I noticed she stayed behind in that closet. She was so mentally disturbed and it's my fault she killed herself! It's my fault! She needed help and I didn't help her! She was the cure to all of this, and I didn't help her!
My conscience is too heavy right now. I think I'm entering depression. I'm making sure I stay open with Kat, though, who is doing her best to help me. She says I had no way of knowing Cheyenne was going to kill herself. I had no way of knowing just how important she was to the world. It does me no good nor anyone else, especially Kat, to beat myself up. We just have to accept that it wasn't meant to be and continue on living and surviving the best way we can. When I stopped talking and just stared into the pock-marked titles of the ceiling, she rested her head on my chest holding me and fell sleep. I didn't. I carefully wormed my way from under her and sat on the chair across her bed so that I could do this entry without disturbing her.
Tomorrow, we're going to start the barrier I was talking about yesterday. We're going to find abandoned cars and push them together. Jonathan's going to get unused beds and tablets to fortify the barrier of cars with. It's going to be a tremendous amount of work pushing cars around, so I really should be sleeping. Going to need a lot of my strength right now. Yeah fucking right... like I'm going to be able to sleep knowing I fucked the world out of the one shot it had to cure this damn thing.
Until tomorrow.
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