“what kind of perks, weirdo?” Alice sauntered up, throwing her arm around Shane’s neck. “Like money perks? Movie deal perks? Sex perks?”

“No.” Shane smirked. “Perc percs.”

“Ooooo.” Alice nodded. “Glad to see you’re back to your old self Shaney.”

Bette’s head seemed to be clearing. She couldn’t shake a groggy feeling though. And upon second glance at her girlfriend’s arm, she still had the urge to bite it, really really hard. Helena took careful note of Bette’s mood, and kept her flesh at a safe distance.  The cure seemed to take a few days to fully solve the issues of the infected.

Unfortunately, there were not many of the infected willing to take the needles. Alice had resorted to pitching the syringes from the top of the roof. A few poor souls, poked their friends and themselves just for fun, only to find that they ended up eaten once they’d healed part way. “What if we just like…throw a million needles down there.” Alice suggested. Lara’s arms were firmly around her, almost at all times these days, and she pulled Alice gently away.

“We’ll figure that all out later.” She had said then. “But I don’t think we have that many syringes. We’ll have to find another way.” Giggling and grasping, they had found a spare room.

“Sooo…” Helena said, looking over at her sheepish and sex crazed friends—worse than she and Bette sometimes it seemed—“we’re not closer to a mass cure than before.”

“Fine.” Bette said at last, clearing her throat. She groaned, touching her arm. A thick bandage wrapped around her upper arm. She touched her face then…

“Hel…” Bette whispered. “Mirror…”

“No, darling, not yet.” Helena said quickly. The others exchanged worried looks. But Bette noticed them.

“Please.” She begged.

Helena, remembering the night she lost her leg, decided that it would be best to show Bette the extent of the damage now, rather than later. Best to pull that bandaid off quickly, she surmised.

The infected had, afterall, been brandishing knives. 

A scar ran across Bette’s left cheek, from the edge of her left eye—which the knife had barely missed—to her chin.  A flap of skin had lain open, but once it was sewn shut, infection set in.  Two kinds, in fact.  One, a common enough bacterial infection.  The other, a genetically modified bio weapon.  It was a tricky job, but in the end, the scar would remain noticeable.