Shelby, Ryan, and Violet
There wasn't time to think about how scared she was, or how much she felt like she was going to cry, or how she just wanted her dad. Right there in that moment might have been the most she'd ever missed him, because what she really wanted was a hug from him and to hear him say things would be alright. But she wouldn't get that ever again. So she held onto Ryan’s hand and started to run toward their truck, willing the world to let them make it so they could be safe.
They could feel the undead clawing at their shoulders as they ran right through the thinnest patch of zombies, dodging what they could. It wasn't all that much ground to cover, and Ryan allowed himself a bit of hope as he saw that there only a few more standing in the way of their truck. And then a hand grabbed onto his leg, its grip tight. He fell heavily to the ground, nearly pulling Violet down with him as well, before he thought to let go of her hand.
"Run!" he yelled, wrestling with the shuffler as best as he could. Ryan knew he was immune, but they'd bite him all the same.
Violet stumbled when her hand got pulled, but she managed to stay on her feet. She came to an abrupt stop and turned to look at Ryan, ignoring his very sage advice. There was no way she was going to run off while he was there. She tried to ignore everything around and focus on him, because she was panicked enough without thinking of the zombies around that could be coming for her from any direction. She didn't have any weapons, nothing to try and defend, and barely had time to start to think of what to do when the zombie sunk its teeth into her best friend.
“No!” Violet felt like she was going to throw up, or pass out, or maybe both. She kicked at the zombie’s head until it let go of him, and gave it one last kick for good measure before reaching down with her good arm and looping it under Ryan’s arm, across his chest, using whatever strength she had and mostly adrenaline to pull him back toward their truck.
Somehow, despite the searing pain that ripped through his lower body as he rose to his feet and the injuries stemming from Violet's own ordeal outside of the grocery store, they made it inside. The door slammed shut behind them and Ryan limped to the passenger seat, collapsing heavily in the chair. His head throbbed as he mindlessly watched the blood seep through the front of pants, biting his lip as he tried to contain the rising panic he felt.
He'd been through this before; he was already immune. Was it possible that 'immunity' didn't actually mean anything?