Embers

by Daniela Elana

  Without warning, a drove of sallow-faced infected people poured through the door, stampeding over the dresser. It smashed to smithereens. Caroline fired several rounds at them, slowing their stagger until they fidgeted to a stop. She wiped a trail of sweat from her forehead.

  Six other zombies meandered through the doorway. I picked up the bat Caroline brought upstairs and struck a few like a piñata as they snatched at us with their disfigured hands.

  My mother withdrew hairspray from her purse spraying, one in the eyes, blinding him, allowing me to take advantage of his blindness and issue enough blows of death. The zombie’s blood spattered the walls.

  Another zombie hopped on my back, knocking me onto my stomach. Her nails pierced my back. I yowled, yanking my car keys from my pocket and jammed stabbed it back into her stomach—she released me as I slid away. Her fingers dug into my ankle. She used her grasp as leverage to leap on top of me. I gripped her wrists as her mouth stretched wide to sink her fangs into my face. The saliva dripping from her outstretch mouth and pointed teeth reminded of me when Takara had been turned by an infected escape from Sector 7A in Mu.

  Caroline shot at her, but we rolled around so fast she kept missing. The bullets ricocheted off the floor, creating holes in the ceiling. She hesitated after several shots.

  From behind, the zombie was sifted in half by a scythe. Her body fell to the side of me, crumpled up.

  I lay there covered in her blood, panting, and thanking God. The man who had started the dark turn of events, hovered over me, garbed in black from head to toe like a reaper.

  Our gaze met, and he extended his hand. This time rather than pulling away, I accepted his invitation. There was a warm callousness to his strong hands. It was as if I could feel his entire body weight in his grasp.

  He pulled me up. We dashed out of the room, down the winding stairs ridden with holes and shell casings. Corpses of zombies hung on the railway along with those of servants who had been slain. By the door, sat Mason and Kevin with their back against the wall out of breath.

  “Maricel, what are you doing?” Mason said, straightening his back. I didn’t glance back at him or reply, hurrying out the door. Outside the house, sat a 1975 sky blue Chevy Malibu.

  The man opened the door for me, and I slid into the leather passenger’s seat. He shut the door behind me just as Mason rushed out of the house, approaching the car.

  My familiar stranger came around to the driver’s side and slid on a pair of dark shades and turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared, muting out Mason hollering. I turned away while the man reversed the car and sped away.

  “Who are you?” I blurted. His gaze remained on the road.

  After several minutes, he still hadn’t replied. “Thank you for saving my life,” I said. He glanced at me and back at the road.

  “Are you ready to discuss the mission I mentioned the other night on the train?”

  “Sure.”

  “I should ask if you’re prepared to speak.” A slight grin crept onto his face. His swift change of behavior and subject startled me.

  “Speak?”

  “Yes, that’s part of our mission together. Just like in all your dreams.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Your purpose, Maricel,” he said. I smirked.

  “I need to speak? You’re the tight-lipped one.”

  “You do have dreams of the future, am I correct?”

  “Yes, what particular dreams are you talking about?”

  “The prophetic ones?”

  “I don’t speak in them. I just observe.”

  “I was wrong about you.” His lips dipped into a scowl.

  “Wrong how?” I touched his shoulder, and he pulled it away. The car jerked to a sudden stop on the shoulder of the road.

  “I’ll take you back, none of this is right. You’re not who I thought you were, after all.”

  “What?”

  “The mission can’t be completed if we don’t both speak….” he muttered to himself, placing his hands on his temples. I snapped my fingers in his face, and he blinked. “Meeting and following you was a mistake.” He frowned and he got out of the car, walking away.

  He pounded the hood of his car, swearing to himself. I looked off into the distance, shutting my eyes and praying for clarity.

  * * *

  The man shouted from the top of his lungs on the sandstone steps of Capitol Hill, warning the citizens of impending judgment. I stood alongside him.

  Various revolutionaries and creatures gathered to listen to us while news cameras captured us.

  Guards took hold of us from behind and cuffed us. I screamed, reaching for the man as he was whisked away.

  * * *

  “We were fated to meet,” I said, emerging from the car.

  “Then you know what has to be done.” He turned to me as I leaned against the car. The sun was setting for the day. He came up beside me, removing his sunglasses, standing inches from my face, peering into my eyes. The brown ring around his dark eyes that often appeared black showed.

  “Yes, although I still don’t know who you are and I’m somewhat afraid. I’m probably going to make a fool of myself with speaking up about what I’ve dreamt.”

  “Are you worried about what people will say?” he said, going around to open my car door for me I followed behind him.

  “No, but I’m aware the things we say will certainly not make us celebrities,” I said, getting in the car, as he shut it behind and went around to his side getting in.

  “You don’t want to stain your squeaky clean image, your majesty?”

  “Ha, cute that you want to nickname me. I still don’t know your name.”

  “You’re deserving of the title as a runaway princess,” he said. I rolled my eyes.

  “About speaking...You expect me to have some sort of speech prepared to deliver to people when I speak with you?”

  “This has very little to do with preparation.”

  “You know what, I don’t know why I opened my big mouth you were right, you do have the wrong person...” I said. He shook his head.

  “I know I have the right person because you were in my dreams as my fellow messenger.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “You just admitted to knowing, princess.” He grinned.

  “You can cut it out with the royal pet names and call me Maricel like you did on the train.”

  “As you wish, my queen.”

  “Okay, my stalker in shining armor.”

  “Since you’re bothered by the lack of information I’ve given you, you’ll be thrilled to know we’re headed to the District of Columbia.”

  “Why?”

  “To deliver our first message.”

  “You’re crazy, this is crazy, you’re making me feel crazy, but if you insist, fine. Since you believe I’m some sort of messenger of the Lord, I’ll be your first acolyte and preach to the masses!”

  “You can mock our mission, but you of all people understand that you’ve searched for answers to why Azazel chose you and you escaped Lemuria only to come up with nothing, trying to figure out what to do.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “I have my sources. I’m Leonardo by the way, but I prefer Leo.”

  “Okay Leo, things get stranger every time you talk.”

  “Touché.”

  “Why have you been keeping tabs on me?”

  “I was hired to kill you.”

  “What?

  “I’m an assassin.”

  “Explains everything, the garb, odd speech patterns, and strange behavior…”

  “The day we met in the bookstore was supposed to be your last.”

  “But it wasn’t, so you tried to blow me away at the Thai restaurant too?”

  “No.”

  “But I saw you walking away after.”

  “I was looking for you because a
nother assassin had been assigned to you since I failed. By the time I went to search for you. You were already gone, and I left just in time.”

  “Oh, how lovely.”

  “Like you, Maricel.”

  “Oh charming, aren’t we?”

  “I’ve been running from who I am. I have dreams and visions just like you and my fair share of supernatural encounters. Rather than trying to kill you like I was assigned, I realized we must unite.”

  “Even if we united, people are too fixed in their ways too far out of reach. They’ll never listen to us.”

  “Don’t be like Jonah.”

  The car accelerated faster on highway 270, near Little Rock. The rays of the setting sun illuminated the outline of the verdant Ouachita Mountains sprinkled with wildflowers. From the shoulder of the road just past a rest stop in the rearview mirror, I glimpsed a hoard of pale green people congregating, take note of our lone car. They staggered after the vehicle. Their limp turned to a sprint.

  Out of nowhere, they hurled onto the windshield, cracking the glass. I shrieked, my heart skipping a beat. Leo’s palm rotated the steering wheel. The Malibu spun in a circle, causing them all to fall onto the road. He reversed into the heap of them before they could stand. The car jerked from the crunch of the corpses bending under the tires.

  “You really do have a kill switch.”

  “It’s part of being an assassin,” he answered, driving without much of a change in expression. “Have you ever been out East?”

  “Yes, but not since I lived in New York City. I’ve always taken a plane rather than drive.”

  “I’m glad I get to be the one to gift you with the scenic view of the Appalachians,” he said.

  “Thanks, Leo,” I said with a smirk.

  We passed through the remainder of Arkansas and various cities within Tennessee. For the most part, he focused on the interstate. Every now and then he’d glance at me. Each time he looked my way there was this look in his eyes I couldn’t read. The majority of the time, I slept. I awoke to a full moon beaming down on me just as he was coming to a stop at a motel in Nashville.

  A few more zombies roamed the streets, lording themselves over the few people brave and free enough to still be out. Leo got out, closing the door behind him, walking toward one of the monstrosities. I emerged, trailing behind him. An obese pale creature with a long elephant trunk guarded the outside of the motel.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” The creature hissed.

  “Get out of the way,” Leo said.

  “How about you make me!” he said.

  “As you wish.” Leo took a canister, throwing it at the creature. The monsters hacked with a tumble while gripping their stomach until death.

  He grabbed my hand, and we sprinted into the motel, passing the empty reception desk. The whole place was vacated, and he went behind the counter and created a key for a room.

  “After you, Your Highness.” His lips parted into a sly smile.

  “So chivalrous for a murder,” I said as I moved past him into the room. The sheets looked like they hadn’t been changed in weeks, the heater yowled, and there was still trash in the bin.

  “It’s not your castle, but it’ll have to do.”

  I took a seat on the bed. He came around and sat beside me. “Try not to worry about tomorrow, although there are going to be a lot of people who will want us dead after what we say.”

  “Comforting. This must be how the prophets of old felt,” I groaned as I tied my hair back. His eyes moved to my lips before he rose to head for the shower.

  I undid the covers. Which was grosser? My bloodstained jeans and tattered shirt or these crusty old covers? Placing my glasses on the nightstand, I laid still, trying to sleep.

  Fifteen minutes later he emerged without a shirt. His narrow torso was defined, with firm pectorals, abs and muscular, broad shoulders. It shocked me since he looked much leaner under his loose clothing. Seeing him made me somewhat self-conscious of my own physique. I couldn’t remember the last time I worked out. After leaving the world of acting, staying fit wasn’t my top priority. Between my inactivity and age, it had led to more pudge to my curves than I preferred.

  His black curls were soaking wet. It was hard time not staring while he ran a towel through his hair before taking a seat on the opposite bed. He seemed to notice but said nothing to me before he hit the switch without saying a word.

  * * *

  Five hours later, I awoke at seven in the morning to Leo tugging on my shoulder, I recoiled.

  He moved away, withdrawing a box of Krispy cream donuts and tossed it to me. It was a shock to see so much food.

  “How did you get your hands on all of this, I thought they were rationing?”

  “They are, I have my methods,” he said. Taking a bite of one. He had his own box. Although I ate a lot, I doubted I could eat an entire box to myself.

  “Do you want to share and do you have any water?”

  He grinned and held up a pack of water.

  “No, keep it, you’ll need something to eat later.” I shrugged and glanced to my right surprised to see a new change of clothes laid out for me. Examining the tags, I shook my head at the fact he knew my dimensions. The clothes were not my style, and I stepped into the shower, relieved to get out of the stained clothing.

  As I slid on my glasses and observed myself in the full-length mirror. The clothing I donned seemed to fit Leo’s dark style. He had selected a black tank top, leather jacket and matching pants along with black tennis shoes for me to wear.

  When I emerged, I noticed the room was empty. Rushing outside fearful Leo had abandoned me, I gaped at the black pickup truck parked outside in place of the Malibu.

  “Why did you switch cars?”

  “I got tired of driving the Malibu,” he said, and he came around, reaching to open the car door for me.

  “It’s alright, I got it,” I said. Leo shrugged and walked to his side, and I got in beside him.

  “You look less like a damsel today and more like a warrior,” he said with a smirk while firing up the engine.

  “How do you find the time to get whatever you want if our country is in the middle of a crisis?”

  “It’s simple, either I’ll find a way or make one,” he said, driving off.

  * * *

  Ten hours later, we arrived in Washington, DC. A magenta hue was cast by the sunset across the sandstone obelisk and sizable green lawn. Clusters of armed militias gathered together, taking shots at any zombies.

  “Just great, the capital is now controlled by monsters,” I said.

  “It always has been,” Leo said.

  Overhead the blades of choppers churned as we walked toward Capitol Hill. It was heavily guarded, and the entry was blocked. Various protestors stood on the lawn chanting. Leo and I stopped and turned as he withdrew a loudspeaker amid the multitude of people.

  “Attention, concerning the president and congress. All must know there isn’t much time left. We are living in the final hour!”

  “Boo!” The crowd wagged their tongues.

  “America must repent of the cruelty and terror it was founded on and still continues to perpetuate through modern forms injustice like economic inequality, the labor camps and withholding of resources for only the wealthy and powerful “2 Thessalonians 2:11 And for this cause God shall send them strong delusion, that they should believe a lie.” He read from the bible and then shut it.

  “Go fuck yourself” A middle-aged woman shouted, throwing a cup of urine at him. It landed on his shoes. He handed me the loudspeaker—I stepped forward.

  “Revelations 17:19 says, And they threw dirt on their heads, and they were crying out weeping and mourning saying “Woe, Woe! The great city in which all those who had ships in the sea had gained great wealth from her expensive things that in one hour she was laid to waste in a day,” I said.

  “You’re the one who’s brainwashed!” a
teenage boy sneered.

  “America this is you. You are mystery Babylon. Mother of Harlots and abominations on earth, your days are numbered. If you do not repent as a nation, the land will be divided and removed altogether by a series of plagues and judgments!”

  “God Bless America!” a man hollered. “This is God’s Holy nation, what you speak is blasphemy, against this Christian nation against God, the creator, and Jesus Christ!”

  The crowd threw a slew of objects at us. Leo shielded me in his arms.

  “Shove your religious rhetoric up your ass!” the same middle-aged woman who had thrown the pee at Leo shouted.

  An officer dashed down the steps and grabbed Leo from behind. Another came up from my side. Judging by his shadow cast on the lawn, I glimpsed a syringe he was motioning to inject into my arm.

  Before the officer could snap Leo’s handcuffs shut, he motioned free, spinning around and kicking the officer into the one who was about to inject me. He fell onto the syringe, grunting as the poison entered his veins. The crowd burst into gasps.

  “Run!” Leo shouted as a brigade of officers charged for him. I froze as he motioned for me to leave. “Maricel, I said run!”

  This time I budged, dashing through the streets where protesters shouted obscenities.

  As I darted around a corner, a limousine turning, almost mowed me down. The license plates seemed familiar. I gasped and tucked a strand of my dark hair straying from my braid behind my ear and pivoted around, changing directions as curiosity ceased me and chased after it.

  After twenty-minutes, I spotted the limousine parked in an abandoned lot. The driver opened the door for a man in a suit, his eyes were hidden behind a pair of tinted shades. His wild dark hair whipped around with the wind. He grinned as security escorted him into a warehouse. As I drew closer, a thin hand yanked me back.

  “Take her to prison for trespassing!” a woman said. The politician turned and looked me straight in the eye.

  “Hold up!” He held up his hand. “Take her with us,” The female security guard slipped a blindfold over my eyes and bound my wrist.