When We Were Human

by Kate L. Mary

  Walker puts his hand over mine and I jump, letting out a little gasp. I slam my hands over my mouth, and my body starts to shake as I wait to see if the men heard me. They didn’t. Donnie is too busy beating the shit out of the thin man while the bloated guy watches. Grinning.

  “Are you okay?” Walker hisses, looking back and forth between me and the men.

  I shake my head and start to back away. Crawling backward, keeping my eyes on the men to make sure they don’t come after me. When we’re about five feet away from the edge, I sit back and take a few deep breaths. My heart is working overtime and I can’t seem to get it to calm down, and tremors shoot through my body until I start to worry that Walker will think I’m having a seizure.

  “What?” Walker whispers. He puts his hands on both sides of my face and forces me to look at him. His blue eyes swim with worry. “What is it?”

  “I-I know them. That man who was beating up the other guy, he was the leader of the group I was with after the liberation.” I swallow and glance back toward the edge of the field.

  Donnie is yelling like a crazy person, and somewhere not too far from us, a girl screams. The sound shoots through me like a bolt of lightning.

  “What the hell?” Walker’s head turns toward the scream and he starts to move back to the edge of the field, but I grab his arm and pull.

  “No,” I hiss. “We need to leave. Now!”

  I turn and head through the weedy field faster than I’ve moved in years. Like someone is chasing me. Like if I don’t move fast enough, it will be the end of my pathetic life. If those guys get ahold of me again, I have no doubt it will be.

  Walker’s right on my heels. Close enough that I can feel his breath against my legs when he exhales. I have a feeling he’s afraid to let me get too far ahead.

  After seeing that asshole again, I’m happier than ever to be with Walker. Tara was right. Walker is a good guy. I’d lost hope of finding one still alive. I thought they’d become extinct, along with movie stars and TV and Saturday Night Live.

  We stick to the field well after the town has faded into the distance. The weeds may be scratching the hell out of my arms and legs, but they’re protecting us from the sun. Something Walker needs. If he’s not careful, he’s going to get sun poisoning.

  “Eva.”

  Walker’s voice startles me so much that I almost scream, but I manage to swallow it down. I turn to face him, and he jerks his head toward the road. I nod and follow him. My back aches from walking hunched over for so long.

  He puts his hand up to stop me when we reach the edge of the field, and I hold my breath as he sticks his head through a break in the weeds and cotton plants. A little white puff is almost even with his head, making it look like he’s wearing Peter Cottontail’s fuzzy tail on his hat.

  He pulls back after a few seconds and nods once. “All clear. The town is pretty far away. I doubt they’d be able to spot us now.”

  I take a deep breath. We’re still too close to the town for me to really relax, but getting out of the field will be nice. As far as I’m concerned, the creepers can slit the throats of every one of those men and it would be doing us a favor. I only wish I was able to do it myself.

  We step out, and right away Walker starts checking the cuts and scrapes on my body. He gets closer until the hair on the back of my neck stands up. There are too many for me to waste time counting. My legs are covered in slashes and my arms have red lines on top of my scars.

  “You look like you lost a fight with a cat,” Walker says with a grin. Just seeing it helps relieve a little more of the tension in my body.

  I roll my eyes even though I return his smile. “Nice.”

  There’s minimal damage to his arms, thanks to the fact that he was able to pull them into his shirt, but his legs don’t look much better than mine.

  “I wouldn’t talk.” I point to the blood running down his leg.

  He shrugs, then inhales sharply. His eyes narrow when he looks back toward the town. It’s barely a dot on the horizon. “Probably shouldn’t come back this way.”

  “Yeah. I’d like to avoid it if possible.” I shiver and run my hands down my arms, trying to get the feel of Donnie off me. He didn’t even get close to me, and I feel slimy.

  Walker frowns and puts his hands on my shoulders, holding my gaze. “Are you alright?”

  “Yeah.” I swallow, and it hurts going down. “I barely got out of there the first time. Seeing them again after all these months…” I shiver and look away.

  “Eva, did they…” Walker trails off, and when I glance up, he looks almost sick to his stomach.

  “No,” I say firmly. “He got his hands on this other girl first and I got out of there before he could get to me.”

  Walker exhales slowly, and then he’s the one who looks away. He takes a couple deep breaths like he’s trying to maintain control before meeting my eyes again. His expression is grim, but I’m not sure if he’s still worried about me or it’s something else.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  Walker sniffs and pulls down his hat, then starts walking again. “We should keep close to the edge of the field just in case they can still see us. We’ll blend in better that way.”

  I jog to catch up and fall into step at his side. “You going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

  “Just wish we could have done something about those men, that’s all. People like that shouldn’t be allowed to walk around, not now that there are no police or anything to stop them.”

  His mouth bunches up, and he pulls his hat down even lower. A shadow falls over his face, making his expression hard to decipher. He’s tense, though. Something’s bugging him.

  “I’m okay, Walker. I mean, things with them were bad, but I got out before they got to me,” I say, trying to reassure him even though I’m not exactly sure what he’s upset about. “I wish I could do more too. They hurt other girls, but you don’t have to worry about me.”

  “This isn’t about you.”

  His words are harsh. Stiff. Like he’s offended that I’d be thinking of myself. But it’s just the two of us. If he isn’t talking about me, I don’t know who. Unless Tara…

  I think back to the first few days we were together. How closely Tara clung to him. How shaken she was when those assholes chased us into the swamp. She’s tough, but there were times when her vulnerability broke through.

  “Did something happen to Tara?”

  Walker glances my way, pulling the hat lower until I can’t figure out how he can see anything.

  I stop moving. “Walker?”

  His lips press together, and he avoids looking my way. “I got her out.”

  There are miles and miles of space between those words.

  My throat tightens, and it takes a lot of effort to swallow. Like a noose is around my neck. “You saved her?”

  “I couldn’t save her.” He starts walking.

  I scurry after him with my heart beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings. He did save her, though. She’s alive and she’s whole. She may be a little damaged, but she’s better than some. Better than I am. I didn’t go through even half of what I’m assuming she did and I’m still a shell of a person. Like someone cracked me open and scrambled my insides to eat for breakfast.

  “Walker.”

  He doesn’t slow.

  I move faster, and when I finally catch up, I grab his arm. He jerks away from me like my touch burns, but I don’t let up. This time, I dig my fingers in deeper when I get ahold of him.

  He whirls around to face me, and his chest heaves. His shoulders rise and fall with each breath, almost as if he’s having a difficult time keeping the hurt and anger in. For the first time since I met him, I can see how much all of this has affected Walker. Losing his parents, having our planet destroyed. Watching Tara get hurt and not being able to stop it. Losing control. That’s what it all really comes down to now. We have no control. Not something we’re used to as Americans. We had control over
everything before the creepers came.

  “This isn’t your fault,” I say.

  Walker doesn’t relax, and he doesn’t respond.

  “Walker.” I step closer to him and touch his cheek. He doesn’t jerk away, which I take as a good sign. “Tara knows it wasn’t your fault. You can’t blame yourself.”

  “You’re one to talk.”

  I blink.

  He’s right. I’ve blamed myself for so many things over the last few years. Losing Mom, losing Lilly, losing hope. I look down toward the notches on my arms, and for the first time, I acknowledge the truth. Those cuts did have something to do with me needing to punish myself. Maybe that wasn’t the reason completely, but it was part of it.

  “What happened with Tara wasn’t your fault, just like what happened with Lilly wasn’t mine.”

  Walker’s head jerks my way. He pushes his hat up, and his blue eyes hold mine. “You going to try to forgive yourself?”

  I run my fingers down my arm. These notches have been like Braille to a blind man for me. They’ve been my only connection to the outside world for so long that the thought of leaving all that behind is scary. But I have Walker now.

  “I’m going to try,” I whisper, looking up just in time to see him smile.

  22

  We’re still standing there, staring at each other, when a boy steps out of the field in front of us.

  “Hey,” he says.

  Walker grabs my arm and shoves me behind him like he’s willing to use his body as a human shield. “Hey.”

  I peek around Walker, trying to get a good look at the kid. He can’t be more than sixteen, but he’s taller than even Walker and he’s frighteningly thin. His dark hair is wavy and so long it falls over his eyebrows. He doesn’t look directly at us, but instead focuses on a spot over my head as if meeting my gaze would hurt him. His clothes are almost rags, and he’s filthy. He looks like he’s been wearing the same thing for years.

  We stand in silence for close to three minutes while we wait for the kid to talk, but he doesn’t say a word. Walker looks back at me, and I shrug. He mimics the gesture.

  “What’s going on?” Walker asks, stepping closer to the kid.

  He doesn’t move. “Where you going?” His expression is blank, and his tone is totally devoid of emotion. Something about it seems off. This kid is way too robotic.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, stepping around Walker to get a better feel for this kid.

  His eyes move over my face, then go back to the spot over my head. “Yeah. I wasn’t, but I’m better now. I was with those guys, but I had to leave. They wanted me to do things that Mom said wasn’t right. If it makes someone cry, I shouldn’t do it.” He looks at me for a second, blinks, then focuses on my forehead. “That’s right, isn’t it?”

  “Where’s your mom?” Walker asks.

  “Dead. She died when the aliens came. They blew up our town and took us to a camp. We lived there for a while. My mom cried a lot because Dad was dead. Then she got sick and she died too. Now I’m alone.”

  Walker shoves his hand under his hat and scratches his head. He looks as confused by this kid as I am.

  “What’s your name?” Walker asks.

  “Ben.”

  I wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t. He sniffs and scratches his arm. There are about ten layers of dirt under his nails. Ben doesn’t say anything else, and I get the strange feeling he’s waiting for us to tell him what to do.

  “So you were with those guys?” I say hesitantly.

  Ben nods.

  Okay… “But they were bad?”

  “They were bad.”

  Walker tilts his head to the side. “Are you okay, Ben?”

  Ben nods, but he doesn’t seem okay. Shell-shocked, maybe?

  “Did they hurt you?” I ask.

  “No. They wanted me to touch this girl. To do some other stuff. She was pretty, but she was loud. She cried a lot. Screamed when I got close to her. It was wrong. Mom said it was wrong. So I left.”

  My stomach clenches, but I try not to focus too much on his words. Something about the way this kid acts seems familiar. He reminds me of a neighbor we had when we were kids. I was little and the boy was a few years older than me, but I remember that he acted different. I asked my mom what was wrong with him and she told me I should be nice, but she never answered the question. A few years later, I overheard her and my dad talking about it. I just can’t remember…

  A light bulb goes off in my brain, and I suddenly feel like smacking myself on the forehead. “Ben, are you autistic?”

  Ben’s eyes don’t move from the spot over my head. “I have Asperger’s. It means I have to pay special attention to other people’s social cues. If they cry or look upset, I have to stop what I’m doing.”

  Walker shoots me a grin. “Good work.”

  “I had a neighbor when I was little who had the same thing.”

  “Where you going?” Ben asks again.

  “We’re going down south,” Walker says, “then we’ll go north to a town. We found a settlement.”

  Ben shakes his head, and his wavy hair swishes around his face. “You can’t go south to go north, that doesn’t make sense. You should just go north.”

  I take a step closer to him. “We’re going to find my sister first. In Valdosta. You can come with us, if you want.”

  “Yeah,” Walker says, slapping Ben on the shoulder. He barely reacts.

  Ben turns away from us and starts walking. “Yeah. I don’t have anyone to travel with. Those other guys were bad, but you seem nice. We can go south, then go north. A town is good. People are good.”

  “I guess he’s coming,” Walker says.

  I grin and grab his hand. “Looks like it.”

  We head after Ben, who keeps a steady pace in front of us. His legs are long, and he moves fast with minimal effort. It doesn’t even seem to bother him. He’s so stoic that it reminds me of a sci-fi movie I saw years ago, something about pod people. If I didn’t already know the creepers couldn’t take over our bodies, I’d be worried. But they can’t or they would have done it by now. They’ve done everything else.

  Ben seems content to travel in silence, and Walker and I aren’t much better. I’m too exhausted, mentally and physically. We’ve crossed so many miles already and we’re almost there, but even after we get to Valdosta, we’ll have to walk the entire way back. Thinking about the distance is daunting, but I try to convince myself it will be easier because we’ll have Lilly.

  I hope so, anyway.

  The sun is high and hot, and my whole body is moist with sweat. Including my hand, which Walker keeps clutched in his. He holds it so tightly that my fingers start to tingle with that pins-and-needles feeling I usually hate. For once, though, I don’t mind it.

  I lift my face to the sun. The sky is clear blue today, without a cloud in sight. It’s June, and it’s been unusually dry. We typically get some pretty big storms in southern Georgia this time of year. The tropical type with torrential downpours and lots of wind. So heavy they used to flood the street in front of my house when I was little.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  Walker’s voice makes me jump, and I realize I still have my face to the sun. My eyes are closed like I’m enjoying the heat instead of letting it bake me.

  I open my eyes and smile, then turn my gaze on Walker. “Just remembering playing in puddles with Lilly when we were little. A storm would move in, taking us completely by surprise, then the clouds would open up and it would be like God had decided to dump his swimming pool on our heads. The rain would collect in the street and make a river that ran down our road. Then, as fast as it had started, it would stop and we’d rush outside to play in the water. We’d be so filthy by the time we came inside that my mom would swear she wasn’t going to let us do it ever again. But she always did.”

  Walker smiles down at me and gives my hand a squeeze. “Sounds like fun.”

  “It was.” I look away when
my throat tightens, swallowing down the tears that threaten to choke me. “I hope we find her.”

  “We’ll do our best, Eva.”

  I lean my head against his shoulder, hating that he doesn’t promise me even, though I know it would be a stupid thing for him to do. The uncertainty of it all feels like a knife to my gut. Walker doesn’t have any control over it. Neither one of us does.

  By the time the first few houses of Valdosta come into view, my legs feel like they’ve been replaced by cooked noodles. I’ve walked a lot over the last year, but never like this. Never with such determination. It was always random wandering. No purpose to it. This has been different. Exhausting.

  Walker nudges me with his elbow and flashes me a grin that stretches across his face and looks out of place in this desolate world. “We’re almost there.”

  I nod.

  “You alright?”

  It feels like my stomach is in knots, so I don’t know how to answer him. “I should be more excited about it, you know? But I’m just…terrified. For the past few days I was able to tell myself we would find her, even though there was doubt. Now I’m going to find out if it’s true, and it scares the shit out of me.”

  Ben stops walking and turns to face us. He’s so quiet that most of the time it doesn’t even feel like he’s here. “Mom says you should face the things you’re afraid of.”

  He never talks about her in past tense, which makes me wonder if he’s in denial. It’s hard to tell with him because he’s unemotional, but it seems like his mom was his whole world. The person who kept him connected to others, who helped him adjust and understand how to fit in. I think he might feel a little lost without her, which makes me sad. I don’t have a lot of experience with Asperger’s, but I do know routine is important. This kid has had his whole world blown apart just like the rest of us, but he might not be capable of adjusting the same way the rest of us are.