The guard's words were muted by the rising static in her head. "What?" Some distant part of her mind understood what he'd said, even if she didn't recognize it. Her legs, they'd been moving on autopilot, body adjusting for his weight. She stopped now, just feet away from the building. Dead weight.
Jaz swept a hand across her chest, her neck, wiping at the splatter. With one hand, then two. Then faster. God it was staining her skin it was going to sink into her she was going to get infected-- she was wiping it way by the handfuls, digging her fingers into her skin. Grabbing at chunks of viscera. She needed it off, needed to- it was under her fingernails, in her hair. Had she swallowed it, was it in her mouth? Did it get in her eyes? How hand any of them thought, for one second, those had just been normal animals? Animals were infected. Animals were infected. Was meat infected? They all ate meat. Were they all infected? Were they going to turn soon?
A gunshot close by made Jaz jump, falling back into her own body. "I'm okay," she breathed out, more for herself than her savior. She was okay. She wasn't bit. She was okay. "I'm okay," she said again, clearer this time and rife with relief. Shaky and dizzy and faint, but okay. She readjusted her grip on him with a determined huff and pulled her leaden legs into movement.
The blood on her palm kept her from opening the door on her first try. It being locked hindered her on the rest. Shit. "Shit." Of course it was locked, why wouldn't it be? There were only a few people in the camp who actually had medical knowledge, and Jaz was pretty sure they kept the scant few pharmecuticals in the building as well. Breaking into a building in a camp full of people who trusted each other but not The Others wasn't ideal, but neither was letting the guard's leg go unattended. With a hand to his chest, she pressed him to the wall; willed him to stay propped up.
She shrugged off her cardigan and glanced behind her, checking to see if there was anyone watching her commit a misdemeanor. There wasn't, naturally, everyone too busy trying to figure out what the hell was happening. Like she'd seen in movies, Jaz wrapped her sweater around her hand. Checked again to make sure there weren't cops- which was such a weird and fleeting thought that she felt like a teen again- and punched the window.
It didn't break, but the pain that shot through her arm immediately made her arm numb.