“Wilson,” Sally whispered to herself, feeling sympathy for the big man.
Then, the fury in Wilson’s eyes returned. He roared, “Get out of here now!”
They quickly obeyed.
Outside, Shane paced back and forth, rubbing his stubbly chin as he thought. They could not just leave. They needed supplies. Sally could tell that her father was thinking something that she would not approve of.
Shane paused, scratched his head, and then turned to Sally. “We need food, water.”
“Wilson won’t—”
“Doesn’t matter, Sally. We can take what we want—what we need.”
They could, of course, but that did not mean that they should. “Dad...” She glanced at the store. “It’s Wilson’s place.”
Shane knelt down in front of Sally and put his hands on her narrow shoulders. “Listen to me,” he said, looking intensely into her eyes. “We won’t last very long if...” He broke eye contact as he thought. “That Wilson guy, he’s being very selfish. He has all that stuff in there and he won’t spare any to help a father and his little girl. What kind of a man would refuse to help a desperate little girl?”
She had no reply.
“Would you?” Shane continued. “If a little girl came by and asked for some help, would you refuse?”
Sally instantly shook her head.
“If we’re going to survive, we have to be... tough.” Shane said, standing. He looked at the store entrance. “We’ll just take a few things and move on. Go in, incapacitate him—knock him out or whatever. Anyway... he’s infected, he won’t last much longer.”
“Yeah, but...”
“Sally, we need to be tough. Do it.”
“OK.” She was far from happy about all this, but she would obey. Adjusting her goggles, she walked up to the door and sighed. “I’m sorry, Wilson.”
Quickly, Sally pulled open the door and entered the store. Wilson had fallen asleep in his chair behind the counter. Good, this would make her job a lot easier—no need to hurt the guy. The gun her father had dropped was gone. Quietly, slowly, Sally moved toward Wilson. His shotgun lay on the counter. Grab it, smash it. As her hand extended forward, Wilson’s eyes shot open. Sally squealed from the shock.
Wilson grabbed the shotgun before the little girl could. He jumped to his feet and immediately pulled the trigger—shooting Sally in the belly. She flew back and hit the floor. No pain, but her jumper was full of holes. She rolled for cover and hopped to her feet. She was more concerned about the sate of her clothes than her own safety.
I’m bulletproof but my clothes aren’t!
“Wilson,” Sally yelled, from behind the chips and dip. “We just need to take a few things.” Sally wasn’t too sure how to feel. On one hand, he was willing to shoot a ten-year-old kid in the belly. On the other hand, she was the intruder, and for all he knew... she would have blown his head off with is own gun. Still... a kid.
“Get the fuck out!” Wilson roared. He cleared his throat. “Get... out!”
Wilson hunched over and went into a violent coughing fit. This was Sally’s chance. She ran toward him, leaped over the counter, and kicked Wilson hard (but not too hard) in the chest. The big man flew back and smacked his head against the wall. He stumbled about, dazed. Sally effortlessly pulled the shotgun out of his hand and then she broke the weapon over her thigh.
Throwing the two halves of the gun away, Sally said, “I’m sorry, Wilson.”
“Fuck you, kid!” Wilson roared as he raised his fist to strike.
Sally shoved Wilson to the ground before he could bring his fist down. The large man curled up into the foetal position and began to sob like a child. Sally took a few steps back, suddenly feeling like a school-yard bully. Her guilt quickly faded when she remembered that he had not thought twice about shooting her—a little girl.
“We just need a few things,” Sally said. She then remembered Shane’s pistol. She searched the drawers behind the counter and found the gun in the third one.
Sally turned to leave, she then paused. Maybe she should have a little more sympathy for Wilson. Most likely, he was infected—sure seemed that way. Infected people were not quite themselves anymore. But, even so, they had to take responsibility for their own actions. For the moment, she did not want to give it any more thought.
“We’ll be gone soon,” Sally said softly, before leaving the store.
Wilson lay crying on the floor as Sally and her father loaded up the car with supplies. The back seat was soon full of food, drinks, and whatever else might come in useful. Wilson had so much random stuff lying around. Near the back of the store, on the floor, Sally found camouflage shorts, and a pair of black and blue sneakers—seemed to be about her size. Nice! Beside the shorts, a black body warmer. Time to replace those tattered trousers and uncomfortable shoes. She glanced over at Wilson to make sure he was still lying behind the counter. He was. Sally quickly changed her clothes. Shorts and sneakers fit nicely! Then, the body warmer. She put it on over her hoody—a little small, but it looked cool, she thought, and it covered up the holes in the hoody. It would do nicely. Another addition to her costume!
Shane was calling Sally from outside. She returned to the car, and they sped off.
“The shotgun,” Shane said. “You shouldn’t have broken the shotgun.”
“I’m sorry.”
“We could have taken it with us.”
“Who needs guns?” Sally smiled and pounded her fists together. “We don’t need guns anymore.”
“Sally, I need a gun to protect myself—in case you’re not around to help.”
She nodded in agreement. “True. OK. Sorry.”
“It’s OK. Just think next time.”
---
You don’t need to be infected for the darkness to have some influence over you. No, sir. You hear that? The whispers? That’s the darkness—it’s trying to twist you. The darkness wants you to be your worst self. It turned me into a cold, selfish, ruthless son of a bitch. It warps your brain, you see. It fucks with your perception. I made some terrible fucking decisions because the darkness wouldn’t shut the hell up. Yes, sir. For a long time it had a hold of me. But I managed to fight it and win. Yes, sir, I beat the darkness. I got it out of my head. I returned to my former, kind-hearted, self. It took some effort, yes, sir, but I did it. Not that it matters now. This morning I found a mark on my arm—just above the elbow. I’m pretty sure some infected little shit bit me. There’s no fighting this, no, sir. Once you’re infected, you can not defeat the darkness. Sure, you can fight it for a while, but, make no mistake, it will win. Whispers are one thing... this is... this is...
CHAPTER 6
As they drove along the country road, Sally turned to her father and asked, “Did you ever read comics as a kid?”
“No. Never did,” Shane replied. “Maybe one or two when I was really young.”
“How crazy is it? I’m like a hero from a comic book.” Her little smile grew larger. “I have superpowers.”
“Yes you do.” Again he tried to get his head around the idea. Super Sally, here to save the day. So bizarre.
“I wonder what happened to me,” Sally said, playing with the goggles on her lap.
“What?”
“What happened to me to make me like this?”
“I have no idea. Maybe I should have read more comics growing up.”
“The one’s I’ve read... it’s usually a bite from a radioactive animal, or some strange freak accident involving chemicals and maybe lightning—that’s how people get their powers. Mostly.”
Shane smiled and nodded. “Interesting.” His smile did not last long, too much on his mind.
“Do you think I’ll get more powers?” Sally asked, excited at the possibility. “What if this is just the start and I get more powers later—like the ability to fly!”
“Who knows.” What if? Could that happen?
“X-ray vision.”
“X-ray vision?” Surely not.
/> “Invisibility!” She grinned. “Telepathy! Who knows!”
The whole thing was making Shane’s head spin.
The car began to struggle. “Shit,” Shane groaned glancing at the fuel gauge. Plenty of fuel—that was not the problem. “No!” The vehicle gradually came to a halt. “Fuck!” he roared, slapping the steering wheel.
This was not a good time to tell Dad to watch his language.
Shane got out of the car and slammed the door shut. He knew next to nothing about cars. “God damn it.”
“Get back in,” Sally said, exiting the car.
Shane was staring off into the distance. It was going to be dark soon.
“Dad,” Sally said, putting the goggles over her eyes. “Get back in the car. I have an idea.”
Turning to face his daughter, Shane said, “You know how to fix cars all of a sudden?”
“No, but I bet I can push this piece of junk to the next town, or house, or whatever.” She smiled with confidence.
Shane looked at the car and then at Sally. “Yeah, I suppose you could. OK, then. Do it.” He got back in the car.
At the rear of the vehicle, Sally rubbed her gloved hands together. “You ready?” she yelled.
“Ready.”
It was hardly an effort to get the car moving. They quickly gained momentum. Faster and faster they went until Sally was sprinting at full speed. Hardly an effort at all for Super Sally.
The moon was full in the night sky as they came to a farmhouse. Sally stopped pushing and Shane hit the brakes. There was a burning candle by one of the downstairs windows. Shane exited the car and tucked the pistol into his jeans. “OK,” he said to Sally. “Go check it out.”
“I’m on it,” Sally said, enthusiastically.
Shane could not believe the amount of energy his little girl had. She had pushed the car all this way and she was still ready for action.
Sally kept low as she approached a window. Peering in, she spotted an old man and woman (late sixties, or seventies). The old couple sat at the dinner table eating some slop out of tin bowls. They both looked so miserable, hopeless.
A skinny kid of thirteen came down the stairs and said, “Can I have some more? I’m still really hungry.”
The old couple exchanged a glance, guilt in their eyes. “Sorry,” the old man said. “There’s no more for today.”
“I’m so hungry,” the boy moaned. “Please?”
The old man looked down at his bowl of slop. “Sorry. Go back to bed.”
The kid lowered his head and went back up stairs.
“Jonathan?” the old woman said.
“Yeah?”
“Maybe I could give him some more of mine?”
“No, Martha. You need to eat,” the old man said firmly. “He’s young, he’ll get by.”
She reluctantly nodded and went back to slurping her slop.
Shane watched from the road as Sally knocked on the door. He could just about see her in the moonlight. After waiting a while, Sally knocked once more. The door slowly opened and Jonathan aimed a rifle at Sally’s face.
He examined the little girl and her strange outfit. “Who are you?” he demanded.
“Sally Rogers,” she replied with a big smile.
“You alone?”
“Nope. Me and my dad need a little help.”
“Where is he?” Jonathan asked, looking out into the darkness.
“He’s waiting at the road. He wanted me to make sure it was safe to come over.”
“You’re father made you come over to make sure it was safe?”
“Yep!” she replied proudly. “You see, I’m pretty much invincible!”
“Invincible?” he said, thinking this was some kind of silly game.
“Yep. I can’t be hurt by knives, baseball bats, bullets...” She opened her body warmer and gestured toward the holes in her hoody. “See this? Shotgun, right to the belly. My top is messed up, but I’m all good.”
Jonathan did not know how to respond. “Right,” he mumbled. “Well, I’m sorry, little girl, but you and your father are going to have to find help elsewhere.”
She frowned. “Can we come in, please?”
The last time Jonathan had trusted strangers, it had not ended well. “No. Tell your father... if he bothers us... me and my five boys will... we’ll take care of him. Understand?”
“Sure.” Sally felt quite strongly that the old man was lying about the five boys. “Look, I’ll go talk to my dad, but I’m pretty sure he’s going to insist we come in.”
Jonathan’s heart was beating fast. “Get the fuck off my land!” He pressed the gun against her forehead.
“Language!” Sally said as she swiftly grabbed the gun.
Her speed was unbelievable.
After a tense moment, Sally handed the gun back to the old man. “Here. I’ll go talk to Dad.” She turned and walked away.
Jonathan’s mouth was agape as he watched the little girl walk off.
“Well?” Shane asked as his daughter approached.
“They won’t let us in,” Sally said shaking her head, disappointed.
With his eyes fixed on the house, Shane said, “Do you think there’s many of them?”
“An old man and an old woman. Young boy. Pretty sure it’s just them. Old man says there’s more. Not sure if he’s telling the truth. Don’t think he is.”
“Right,” Shane muttered as he thought. He turned to Sally. “Doesn’t matter anyway. If we want to go in, we can go in. No matter how many there are.”
“Yeah,” Sally said, smiling and nodding. “We’d have comfortable beds to sleep in, I’m sure. They just need to see that we’re not a threat, and then everything will be fine.”
“OK. Let’s go. Remember... take the guns, don’t break them.”
Sally saluted her father. “Yes, sir!”
Shane wanted to remind her that this was not a game, but he just turned away and took his pistol out of his jeans. “Let’s go.”
Hiding in the bushes, Shane watched as Sally banged on the front door of the farmhouse. “Open up,” Sally ordered. No response. After waiting a moment, she knocked again. “Open this door!” No response.
“Kick the door down,” Shane yelled.
Sally did not want to do too much damage to the old couple’s property. She gave the door a firm push and it swung open. Then, a bang! Sally was knocked to her back.
Martha grabbed a hold of Jonathan’s rifle. “It’s the little girl!” she shouted in horror.
“I...” Jonathan was frozen. “I...” He had panicked when he had seen the door swing open. There was little time to dwell on it—god knew who else was out there about to storm their house. Pulling the gun away from his wife, Jonathan said, “Upstairs! Now!”
“Barely felt it,” Sally said sitting up, rubbing her forehead.
The old couple were motionless—they could not believe that the little girl was unharmed. Jonathan aimed his rifle at Sally. He had no idea what to say or do.
“Put the gun down,” Sally said, getting to her feet. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I don’t want to hurt you, either,” Jonathan said, his hands shaking.
“Funny way of showing it,” Sally said, smiling cheekily.
She slowly approached the bewildered old man and put her hand around the rifle. Squeezing tightly, Sally deformed the gun. The weapon was now useless. Then it occurred to Sally that she should not have done that—her father wanted the gun for his own protection. Damn it, he was not going to be happy.
Wide-eyed, Jonathan dropped the gun and took a few steps back. “What...?”
“I’m bulletproof and really strong,” Sally said proudly.
“What the hell are you?” Jonathan asked, trying to make sense of what he had just witnessed.
“I’m like a superhero!” She noted their terrified faces. “Look, me and my dad just need a bit of help. Our car broke down. Can we stay here for the night?”
“Do we have a choice?”
Jonathan asked bitterly, putting his arm around his wife.
“Well... no... not really.” Sally said awkwardly. “But...” But what? That was the end of it. They had no choice. “Anyway, I’m going to search the house... to make sure there’s no one else around.”
“J-Jimmy i-is upstairs,” Martha said shakily. “P-Please don’t h-hurt him!”
“I won’t,” Sally reassured her. “I just need to make sure the place is safe for my dad to come in.”
“He’s j-just a kid.”
“I said I won’t. Promise.”
Sally quickly searched the entire house. It was just the three of them—Jonathan, Martha, and Jimmy. It was safe for Shane to come in.
---
They all sat around the table, candlelight illuminating the room. Shane placed his pistol down onto the table and said, “We just wanna rest here for the night. We’ll be gone in the morning.”
Jonathan’s eyes were fixed on little Sally. “What is she?” He looked at Shane. “I shot her—almost point blank range—and she just got up, shrugged it off like it was nothing. Then she...” he glanced at the warped gun on the floor.
“Sally is very special,” Shane said, a hint of a smile. “I don’t know what made her this way but... she can do incredible things.”
Jimmy looked at them all as if they were nuts.
“This world is full of madness,” Jonathan said, shaking his head in disbelief.
“You any good with cars, old man?” Shane asked.
“Sure.”
“Good. Maybe you could take a look at our car in the morning.”
“Is that a request, or an order?” Jonathan’s eyes narrowed.
“Just... take a look at it.”
“Tell you what,” the old man said, leaning forward. “I’ll see what I can do about your car... and you can leave the gun with me.”
Shane immediately shook his head. “No, I’m not travelling without a gun.”
“Well we need some protection, too!” he snapped. “You fucked up the only gun we had!”
“I’m sorry,” Shane said, without looking all that sorry. “I’m keeping my gun.”
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