"Shit!" Blaine immediately clasped a hand over his mouth, silently cursing himself for being so stupid. If the creature hadn't heard him before, the sound had most definitely alerted him of Blaine's presence.

 He quickly tied the old cardigan around his waist and shoved the soap in his pocket. He was going to need both hands for this. He was about to quietly make his way back to his tree when whatever was making the sounds jumped out from the bushes and stared him right in the eye. Blaine was left breathless with shock.

 The creature was male, average height, with a stocky build. But it wasn't his body that gave him away as different. It was the eyes.

 They had sunken back into their sockets, and the iris had turned crimson and become cloudy. The pupils were now slits, and they appeared more cat-like than human. Blaine was frozen as the eyes kept staring him down; it looked as if they could see right through him.

 When the creature took a step forward, it took a moment for Blaine to react. But when he did, he was running at full force.

 Blaine's heart was racing. I can't die. Not now. Or worse, turn into one of them. It scared him to think that this was what Sarah had become, what Cooper would have become.

 If he hadn't killed himself.

 The realization of it all made Blaine stumble with shock, but as quickly as he fell he was back on his feet again and making his way back to the campsite. He would have time to think about all this later.

 Soon enough, he made it back. He climbed up the tree quickly and opened the bag in one swift movement, pulling out his father's rifle. It was already loaded. Blaine let out a sigh of relief.

 The relief was only temporary. Blaine's nerves came back full-force as the creature burst through the bushes and began clawing at the base of the tree. He took a deep breath, steadied the gun, and let out a shot towards the groaning form.

 It hit it in the shoulder. The creature took a few steps backwards, but the bullet didn't seem to do any real damage, and the wound wasn't bleeding. Even though Blaine's mind was panicked and hazy, it was still hard at work. And after a few minutes, Blaine got it.

 It didn't work because the creature didn't have any blood to lose. He was targeting the wrong place altogether. To kill it, Blaine would have to get rid of the very flesh itself. But how?

Blaine looked around anxiously. Would he even be able to kill this thing? He certainly wasn't trained for it. He racked his brain for any possible solution. You've read some pretty crazy science fiction books before, right? Did any tell you how to kill a zombie?

 Maybe he could hack the thing to pieces? It was dangerous, but worth a shot. At this point, Blaine didn't have anything left to lose. But as he was reaching in to grab the knife, his fingers brushed against something else, something a lot more deadly that could certainly destroy flesh a lot quicker than a small knife.

 The matches. He could kill the creature with fire.

 Without a second thought, Blaine pulled out a single match from the package and quickly lit it. The flame was tiny, but Blaine knew that even the tiniest spark could start a forest fire. This could be the little flame that saves his life.

 He flicked the match down at the creature, but it simply bounced off and fell to the ground, flickering out in an instant. From this angle, Blaine doesn't think he could reach any of its more vulnerable spots. Suddenly another idea hit him. Thank god for adrenaline rushes.

 He would catch the creature on fire from the inside. That would probably be a lot more effective, anyway. Getting the match in would be a problem though. How does one feed a match to a zombie?

 Blaine thought for a while, and the idea of actually getting out of the tree to face the creature was definitely out of the question. He was going to have to try to lower the match down on a stick.

 He snapped a decent-sized branch off the tree from above him, and carved a little hole in the tip of it where the match would go. Taking another match from the box and lighting it, Blaine hoped that this one would work. There were only 40 matches in the box, and he had to make his supplies last. He stuck it in the little groove in the wood, and began lowering the stick down to the ground. When the creature saw the fire approaching, it let out a high pitched scream and ran backwards a few feet.

 Blaine sighed. Was he going to be stuck in this tree forever? Fishing for zombies is harder than one would think, he thought sarcastically. Wait. Wait a minute...

 Fishing. Fisherman used bait! Blaine just needed something to attract the creature to the stick. Then maybe, hopefully, he would be free to get out of this goddamn tree and find some place that wasn't infested with these monsters.

 But what would he use for bait? His own flesh was out of the question, but maybe blood? That was easy enough to get.

 Blaine stuffed one fist in his mouth and bit down hard as the other hand went down to the cut on his leg. He made quick work of it, scratching away the scab and letting the blood start to flow freely again. He picked up the stick and rubbed it over his leg, wincing, but making sure that the tip was completely covered in blood.

 When that was done, Blaine took his third match out of the box and lit it, once again placing it on the stick. But this time as he lowered it down, the creature took some interest in it, no doubt attracted by the fresh blood. Suddenly it lunged towards the stick, taking it in his mouth and biting off the blood-covered tip, match and all.

 Blaine sat still as a statue from his place in the tree, waiting. Waiting for something, anything, to happen. And soon enough, it did. The creature began to clutch at its chest and make agonized groaning sounds, louder than the ones before. After a few minutes, the smell of burning flesh hit Blaine's nostrils, and he had to hold his breath to keep from vomiting.

 When the blisters started appearing on the outside of the creature's skin, Blaine had to look away. It was all too much, and he felt like he was going to be sick. The air was filled with smoke and an acrid stench, and the creatures wailing pierced Blaine's ears. After about thirty long, disturbing minutes, he decided to chance taking a peek over at the burning form.

 To his relief, the creature was now pretty much reduced to ashes. Its cries had stopped, but the terrible smell lingered in the air.

 Blaine put the matches back in the bag and slung it over his shoulder before making his way back down the tree trunk. He figured it would be best to move on to a new area now; he didn't think he'd be able to sleep in this very tree with all of the memories of what had just happened there.

 He thought back to his days as a boy scout, after his father had forced him to go into the program. He knows that he must have learned a lot about survival, but that was so long ago, and many of the memories escape him.

 One thing he remembered, though, was that it was important to stay hydrated. Without water, your body cannot function.

 Blaine turned towards the direction of the river. He had already found a fresh water source, which was a good start. As long as he kept the river close by, he should be able to find a supply of water, vegetation, and game to hunt. Now all he needed was a campsite.

 With that thought in mind, Blaine set out towards the river for the second time that day. With any luck, he wouldn't get himself almost killed this time.

 Blaine was sitting around the small campfire he had made by the river, watching a pot of water boil. His tongue was dry and he was desperate for water, but he knew that he had to wait for the water to be purified. He spent his wait gutting and scaling the two tiny fish he had somehow managed to catch with his hands. He found a branch, stuck it through the fish, and began to roast them over the flames.

 After a little while, Blaine figured that the water was now safe to drink. He tried to wait for it to cool down a bit, but he became too impatient and began to swallow the liquid warm. It was still just as refreshing, especially to someone who was close to becoming dehydrated again.

 He spent the next half hour or so eating his fish and drinking as much water as he pleased. It wasn't as satisfying as the packaged food and water that he had in his bag, but Blaine had decided early on that that food should be saved for when there wasn't anything else available.

He finished his meal, and lay back on the ground for a few minutes. When he closed his eyes, all he could hear was the sound of rushing water and the birds above him chirping happily. When he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend that life was normal again.

 Blaine imagined he was just out for a picnic with his family. His parents were arguing with him again, which was no surprise. He and Cooper had run off to get away, and his brother would reassure him that yes, his parents did love him. They just didn't know how to show it.

 Blaine let out a deep sigh. Coop had always been the only one able to cheer him up. He wondered what would happen now. Who would he go to when he was upset? He was alone.

 Snap out of it, Blaine, he thought to himself. He tried to make himself believe that the best thing to do right now would be to forget about his feelings altogether and just focus on survival.

Getting up from his spot on the ground, Blaine decided that he should try a second attempt at getting a bath in the river. The soap was still in his pocket, and still good to use. He grabbed his makeshift towel and walked to the riverbed once again. This time he wasn't interrupted.

 He quickly stripped himself of his clothes and laid them over a large rock. He stepped into the river, the icy water like tiny pinpricks on his toes. But no matter how cold it was, the feeling of running water on his body was refreshing and he felt some of his worries wash away with the stream.

 He had made it this far. He had encountered one of the infected, and lived! These thoughts were what comforted Blaine, and maybe even gave him a little bit of hope. Maybe he could adapt to this new, messed up world. Maybe he could still live his dreams. He would survive, both for himself and Cooper.

 He finished washing himself quickly, and stepped out of the freezing water as quickly as possible. He dried his body with the old cardigan, and put on his clothes once again.

 When he got back to the fire, he looked around. As peaceful and comfortable as this place was, it just didn't seem safe enough. Anyone could easily walk in at any time, and there weren't many decent spots for Blaine to hide. He was going to have to continue downstream, and find a better campsite.

 Blaine put out the fire and covered it with leaves and dirt, trying to disguise the fact that someone had been here. He packed up his stuff and started walking again without looking back.