by Levi Doone
I feel tears forming in my eyes from my self-pity session, and I sit up and say aloud, “Screw this.” I’m not going out blubbering on my bed. I stand and go back downstairs. “Roger, what can I do to help?”
He’s in the kitchen, closing the storm windows. “I’d appreciate it if you do what I’m doing to the windows upstairs.”
I run up the stairs and open windows, lift the screens, lower the storm windows, close the windows again, and lock them. While finishing up, I hear the side house door open and a familiar voice. “Hey, Roger, Ellen, sis. Didn’t think I’d ever be here again.”
I hop down the staircase, run, and throw my arms around Luke. And of course, the tears come.
“Whoa, sis, calm down.” His hands are up as if in surrender. He hates any displays of affection, unless it comes from his girlfriend. All right, you see me. I’m okay. Now let go.”
“I thought I’d never see you again.” I release him from my horrible touch.
“Yeah, nice to see you too. Chloe’s dad thought I should check in with you guys.”
“You’re not staying?”
“I am. I think her dad’s getting sick of me being around. Before he started sealing in his family, he told me to go home and help out here.”
Roger walks up to Luke and puts his hand on his shoulder. “It’s good to see you. Your sister and I pretty much finished all we can do. I hope it’ll be enough.”
“Crazy day, huh?” Luke says. “One minute we think we’re goners, and then the rock blows up. Now we got this cloud to worry about. Anybody hear how long we’ll be trapped inside?”
Roger answers, “They’re not saying anything on TV. I guess they’re waiting to see what happens first. I don’t think any of those scientists have any clue. As soon as the asteroid exploded, they started scratching their heads. They probably don’t really know if closing windows and doors will do anything. It’s all guess work.”
Ellen walks up to Luke and squeezes his hand and says, “Anyone up for some dinner? Whatever happens, it won’t help if we face it with empty stomachs.”
I’m not hungry anymore, and I don’t think anyone else is, but we all take our seats around the dinner table. Just all of us being together is nice.
Chapter Four
After dinner, I go up to my room. Luke, Ellen, and Roger go into the living room to watch the news, looking for some sign of hope. I need to be alone to empty my head and just veg out. I feel my sanity depends on it. Whatever works, right?
I look around my room. I have a lot of stuffed animals from when my parents were alive. I remember making my dad kiss which ever animal I was taking to bed. It may sound stupid, but I like to think his kisses are still on them. It may sound weird, but it gives me comfort, and right now, that’s what I need.
I grab a polar bear named Icicle and curl up on my bed. I stare at the wall and wait. I wonder what I’m waiting for—death, sickness, or both. Who knows and who cares? Whatever happens will happen. Just get it over with.
Time crawls by as my gaze periodically falls upon my clock radio. My eyes grow heavy, and I begin to feel myself slowly dozing off. Just take a little nap and wake before midnight. Then I’ll go and be with Luke and company to face whatever happens.
* * *
I awake to sunlight streaming through the window on my face. “I slept the whole night?”
I go to the window and see a clear, beautiful sky. No sign of an orange mist, until I look down. The ground is covered with a glowing orange dust. Like a snowy sherbet. It’s pretty cool, kind of beautiful. Around my room are tiny specks of orange on the floor and bed. It seems to be coming from under the door, because that’s where the thickest concentration is.
In the mirror, I see my reflection, specks all over me. My stomach sinks. This can’t be good. I consider how I feel and decide I feel fine. Maybe not enough dust came into the house.
I go to my door and open it. A lot more dust litters the hall leading to the bathroom. I follow and see the bathroom floor covered. The toilet, sink, and bathtub are overflowing with the particles. It must have come up from the drain. How could that happen if it fell from the sky? This is all very strange.
I go to check for Luke in his bedroom, but he isn’t there. So I go downstairs and find him watching TV. Roger is lying on the couch, not looking very good. His eyes are bloodshot and his face pail, clammy, and sweaty.
“Roger, are you okay?” Stupid question, I know.
“I feel like crap.” He stirs a bit, trying to sit up.
“Don’t get up.” I rush to his side.
Luke stands. “He’s been sick since about one this morning. Ellen’s even sicker. She went to bed. How’re you doing?”
“I feel fine. Are you okay?”
“I’m good.”
I go check on Ellen. When I get to her room, I can hear her whimpering softly. She’s in bed, lying on her side. I walk over to her bedside, where her back is to me. “Ellen?”
“Oh, oh, child, just leave me.” Her moaning words shock me a bit. She never speaks to anyone that way, always kind and pleasant to everyone.
I persist. “Is there anything I can get for you?”
“I’m dying! So please give me some peace and get out!”
I run out of the room as quickly as I can. Tears fill my eyes. I stop in the hall and fall to my knees. Ellen’s words felt like a kick in the gut. I wrap my arms around my head and cry into them to muffle any sounds. I don’t want to alarm Roger or my brother, but I’ve never seen someone so sick before. She must be delirious or maybe she really just wants to be alone.
I swallow hard and force myself to stop crying. I begin to wonder what will happen to Luke and me if Ellen and Roger pass away. I quickly stop that kind of thinking and become disappointed in myself for being selfish. I need to stay strong and think positive.
I stand and go into the bathroom to splash some water on my face, but the sink is overflowing with the sparkling dust here as well. So I dry my tears on a hand towel and go back into the living room.
“How’s Ellen?” Roger struggles to lift his head.”
“She’s okay. She just wants to be alone now.” I half-lie, how could I tell the poor man the truth?
“You okay, sis?” Luke must see the redness in my eyes from my little breakdown.
“Yeah, I’m good. My allergies must be acting up. All this dust, you know. It looks like it’s coming up from all the drains. How is that possible?”
“Stink pipes,” Roger says.
“What?” I ask.
Roger looks uncomfortable as he tries to shift toward me. “I don’t know the proper name, but those small tubes that stick through the roofs of every house, I call them stink pipes. They’re there to allow toxic gases out from the drainage system. It’s the only way I can think of.”
“But why is there so much? There’s only about an inch piled up outside. How could such a concentrated amount happen to make it through such a small opening?” I ask.
“Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe it’s attracted to water.”
“Or maybe to people,” Luke said.
“I don’t think anything would surprise me after yesterday and today.” My stomach twists at the thought of what else might be in store for us. I want to change the subject, as if that’s possible. I look at the television and notice it’s been turned off. “Any new news on TV?”
“It’s all bad, sis, nothing positive,” Luke says.
“I didn’t think they’d be reporting on the five-day weather forecast. Put it on.” I think the added noise will be a good distraction.
Big mistake.
“Okay, but I warned you.” Luke presses the remote.
A sick-looking man sits behind a news desk. “The virus is now worldwide, and reports of massive fatalities from around the world, except North America, are coming in. Government officials are ordering all federal, state, and local emergency response personnel to merge with various military organizations and prepare to be deployed
where needed.
“Drone flyovers of areas in Europe and Asia where reports of the populations are said to be completely wiped out show crowded streets of seemingly confused and lost people. Attempts to contact the areas’ local officials or even news agencies have failed, and new hope that the virus may not be as severe and deadly as previously thought grips the US and Canada.”
“See, it’s not that bad,” Luke says.
The scene on television shows an area in London, England, of people wandering the streets lazily and clumsily bumping into each other. Close-ups show their eyes give off an eerie, orangey glow much like the mysterious dust. Their mouths are hanging open as well, as if they no longer have use of their facial muscles. It all looks real creepy.
Suddenly, a dog runs through the crowd. A person tackles it and looks like it’s biting the animal. Other people joined in and tear apart the poor beast.
“What the heck are they doing?” I ask. I look at my brother, and his expression of horror sends feelings of terror through me.
“Zombies,” Luke said. “That’s what they do. Feed on the living.” And he should know. Playing and watching zombie video games and movies were his favorite pastime before he met Chloe. I always thought that kind of stuff was just sick, morbid, and stupid. I refused to watch those kinds of movies. I was afraid they’d give me nightmares.
“That’s crazy,” I say. “That zombie crap isn’t real.” It can’t be. I turn off the TV and try to get those images I just saw out of my head. Roger and Ellen are what I need to be focusing on. That’s what’s important right now.
I go into the kitchen, figuring I should make some tea. Ellen always made tea with honey whenever we got sick. It makes sense I do the same for her and Roger. I take the teakettle, fill it with water, and put it on the stove.
I notice Luke behind me. “What?” I ask.
“Listen, sis, I don’t want to piss you off or nothing, but—”
“But you’re gonna anyway.”
“Yeah, well, at least hear me out first.”
“Fine, then talk.” I fold my arms and lean against the stove and put on my best ‘don’t screw with me’ look on.
“I can’t get ahold of Chloe. You know I have to make sure she’s safe.” Luke looks pathetic, by design, I’m sure.
“So you’re abandoning your family when we need you most. I can’t do this alone. I really need you, bro.” I lower my voice to a whisper. “Ellen wants to be left alone so she can die, and I’m afraid she probably will.”
“Ellen said that?”
“Yeah, she was angry that I bothered her. We need to get them to eat so they have the strength to fight this thing. I refuse to just wait for them to die. I need you; they need you.” I try my best to spell it out for him.
“Listen, I swear I’ll only be twenty minutes or so. I’m sure nothing bad will happen in that short amount of time. Don’t be so dramatic.”
Oh, screw him. Now he’s pissing me off. “Dramatic? You jerk; the whole world won’t wait for you. Things are happening fast, and who knows what will happen in twenty freakin’ minutes? Besides, how the heck are you gonna get there and back that quick?”
“I’ll drive there.”
“You’ll drive? You’re fourteen! You don’t know how!”
“Calm down, sis. I drive ATVs with Mike and those guys. A car is way easier. And with all that’s going on, I don’t think there’ll be many speed traps today.”
“What about all the dust? It can’t be all that safe to drive on. And what if it makes you sick?” I was grasping at straws now. He was going and there wasn’t anything I could do about it.
He raised his palm to his mouth and blew on it. The orange particles danced off his hand. “See, we’ve been breathing this stuff all morning. As far as it being on the road, I’ll take it easy out there. Okay?”
“Fine, whatever. You’ll do what you want like always. So just go.”
I promise, sis. I’ll go and find out the story with Chloe and her family and will be right back. If there’s a problem, I’ll bring her back with me, all right?” His words are filled with concern, but not for me.
I believe he wants to return that quickly, but I know he won’t. Too many things could have already happened to his beloved. I also have a horrible feeling if he leaves, I’ll never see him again, which is why I feel guilty in just replying, “Yup,” and turning away.
I turn on the stove and get the tea bags and honey. I hear the door open, then close and feel my heart sink. “Be safe, bro.”
Chapter Five
With the tea ready I bring Roger a cup. I help him sit up. He’s so weak he can hardly move on his own.
He asks if I can turn on the television. The news anchor is a different person than before. He reports, “We’ve lost contact with most news affiliates in the lower forty-eight and haven’t heard from Hawaii in three hours or so. Here in Anchorage, Alaska, we seem to be the last major newsroom in America, possibly the world. It seems the dust cloud gets weaker in cooler climates, but its effects remain the same, as we’re witnessing our fellow Alaskans here fall ill with the same symptoms as reported from around the world.”
I leave the room and go into the kitchen to get the other cup of tea and bring it to Ellen. As I enter her room slowly, I hold my breath and hope she will be in a better mood. She’s still lying on her side exactly as before with her back to me. “Ellen?” My voice is very soft. So much so that when she doesn’t answer, I doubt she hears me. “Ellen?” Still nothing. She must have fallen asleep.
I creep to her nightstand and place the teacup and saucer on it. They make a clinking noise and I fear it will disturb her, but she doesn’t budge. I stare at her for a moment and feel an eerie chill run up my spine. The sheet is wrapped tight around her side, so I should be able to see some movement when she breathes, but I don’t.
“Ellen.” That was loud enough to startle her. She’s always been a light sleeper. She’s still too still and too silent.
I move around the bed and yell, “Ellen!”
When I get to a position where I can see her face, I see her open, dead eyes, and I stumble back. I should touch her, feel for a pulse or something. But I can’t bring myself to get closer, let alone touch her. Something about the dead just freaks me out. I slowly back out of the room. I can’t wait to get out of there. Once in the hall, I notice my hands are shaking uncontrollably. I press them together and stand looking into the room.
“Oh, Ellen, I’m so sorry.” I speak softly. I don’t want Roger to hear.
I stay in the hallway for a few minutes, thinking of what I should do. Should I go tell Roger his wife of forty-some odd years is dead in their bedroom? I can’t just ignore it either. Finally, I decide I have to tell him. He has a right to know. I procrastinate a few minutes more, then go into the living room.
Once I see Roger, I almost start to cry. I feel so bad for him. He really loves his wife. She was his whole life. I kneel beside him, and he looks at me. He must see it in my eyes, because his eyes fill with tears and he says, “No, please don’t tell me. I can’t handle that. Just don’t.”
I’m speechless. I just stay beside him, not knowing what to do.
He struggles for a breath, then says, “My Ellen and I won’t be apart for long. I’ll be joining her very soon.”
I hold his hand and stay with him for a while, in silence. The TV is off. He must have been sick of the depressing news, or maybe he heard me calling for Ellen.
We’re still and quiet for ten minutes or so when Roger’s eyes stare behind me in horror. In his weak state, he shakes as he struggles to whisper, “Go, Lea, run!”
“Roger?”
His hands brush against me. I think he’s trying to push me away. “It’s… it’s Ellen!”
I stand and turn to see the thing that’s panicking Roger. It’s indeed Ellen, or was Ellen. Her eyes are glowing a frightful orange, her mouth hangs open, and she lets out a gurgled hiss.
I leap for the stairs, an
d she, or it, motions toward me and slinks after me. I run up the stairs, slipping halfway up, and scamper the rest of the way on all fours. Once at the top, I look down. Have to see it again. To make sure of what I saw.
It takes a few seconds for Ellen’s corpse to reach the staircase. It looks at me with those freaky glowing eyes and hisses again. A steel-cold sensation shoots up my spine and into my skull, causing me to freeze. My brain must be trying to process it all. That’s when my internal voice shouts in my head, “Run! You can’t just stand here or you’ll die!”
The Ellen zombie falls as it tries to climb the first step; it stays down and crawls up, still staring into my eyes. I close my eyes and back away from the stairs. I then run into my bedroom, close the door, and drag my bed across my room and against the door.
I’m shaking like a leaf in a windstorm and looking through watery eyes. The hissing sound comes closer. I realize I’m starting to really freak out, and if I don’t get myself under control, I’ll be a goner for sure.
As some sense comes back to me, I see I’m trapped. My room has two windows, one over the side door steps and the other over a metal basement bulkhead door. If I have to jump, I have a choice between cement or steel. I’d most probably break something important.
I then think of Luke. If he were here, he would know what to do, but he’s not. Why did he leave me? Shouldn’t he be home now? Will he ever come home?
I squat into the corner across from the door and, in my panic, start to see dots in front of my eyes. Not good. Am I passing out? Then everything in the room turns blood red with a black background. Before I black out, I hear scratching at my door.
Chapter Six
I awake in a brief and wonderful moment of ignorance and confusion. Why am I sleeping on the floor and why is my bed up against the door? Then I see the peculiar glowing specks of dust and the horror rushes back into my mind. I stand and go to the window and view the newly bright-orange landscape glistening in the midday sun. I turn to my alarm clock to see the exact time. It shows three twenty-eight p.m.
