“Wait, hold on,” requested Siena, seeing her seizing random clothing from the racks.
I had no idea what she was trying to accomplish by simply attaining outfits until she took one of her father’s shirts and wrapped it around my arm. I was ready to dismiss it, but I recognized that some sort of protection was, in the end, better than none.
“Oh, good idea,” said Valssi, joining her relative on her scheme.
I was soon made into a child’s vision of a punching bag. I had shirts, scarfs, and I didn’t want to know what else, enveloped around my arms, neck, and legs.
“There, that should be sturdy enough,” said Siena, carefully arranging the loose ends. I thought I saw a smile appear on her face, but I suppose it was only my imagination. “Just please make it quick, okay?” she said, her eyes fermenting a sense of seriousness I had not seen her give me in a long time.
I nodded back my understanding, or gave my best impression of one, as my neck could not really move at my command. I exited the closet as feather-like as possible and gingerly closed the door behind me. The clacking sound of the door shutting gave me the impression I had left some nameless part of myself behind. The repulsive music the kite was conducting was even more disconcerting outside the small sanctuary, but it did at least serve as an auditory road to keep a general track of its whereabouts. Making sure not to attract any unwelcomed attention, I moved as slowly and deliberately as it was feasible for me to do, but still making sure I finished the deed within that day.
More adrenaline began coursing into my muscles, my body knowing I needed every ounce of help for the dire situation I was in. I could begin hearing something as faint as my footsteps and smell a weak but distinctly foul odor, something that could have only come from the swarm. Despite the heavy tension, when I saw my reflection in a full-length mirror, I almost could not help chuckling out loud, though I did manage a small grin. There was something comical about seeing myself puffed up to nearly twice my normal size; moreover, appreciating I was gift-wrapped with women’s clothing to keep it all together. I felt I was either a bad burglar or an even worse superhero.
My miniature mirth did not last long. I was cruelly reminded of the reason I had exposed myself when, below my feet, I heard the jagged sound of breaking plates. Walking through the room and into the hallway with the revolver in my hand made me feel more valiant than I had ever felt before, not so much as I considered myself a savior of damsels, but more as if this was all too extraordinary for it to be real. The stairs were not as cooperative as I hoped they would be, as a few of the wooden steps groaned and creaked under the fresh encumbrance, making me wince every time it happened. When I was about three-fourths of the way down, a disobeying stair made such a loud gripe that it was able to reach the poor hearing of the kite. The ensuing silence that befell was even more horrid than any noise previous. Directly afterward, the kite generated the loudest shriek yet, almost high-pitched enough to go unheard by my ears.
I was able to catch the sound of its wing banging against the walls and floor, as it zealously tried to find the origin of the sound. Knowing staying near the base of the steps would be imprudent on my part, especially when I understood I was dealing with a clumsy creature when on land, I turned around and climbed back up. When I reached the pinnacle of the stairs and looked behind me, the first image I beheld was the fevered adult kite mercilessly looking up at me with its iridescent eyes of a brilliant white, bobbing on a small head that was attached to a long neck. The paltry light coming in at this point made anything but its dark silhouette and shining eyes unperceivable, which I think was for the best. I doubted I could have stayed sensible gazing at its true face. The stairwell was too narrow for it to spread its wing, forcing it to resort to crawling using its flapping arms. Luckily, it had marginal success in its endeavor, as each time it gained a step, it descended two. I knew this was my chance. I raised my gun to the struggling, ravenous creature and, without a second thought, I pulled the trigger. I couldn’t tell where the bullet landed, and even if it did find its mark, the flailing beast took no notice.
The lingering pulse of the gunshot faded away, leaving bare the persisting shrieks of my impending attacker, mocking my failure. Perhaps influenced to some degree by my target’s madness, I began pulling the trigger relentlessly, with no real consideration to my accuracy. I don’t know how many bullets I relinquished, but I do know I had the power to cease fire when I observed the kite’s motionless form. The sergeant’s words repeated in my head: “Shooting them just a few times doesn’t work.” I knew my mission wasn’t over and I needed to make sure that it was. I loaded several more bullets into their chambers. I descended each step more cautiously than the last, with my gun continued to be pointed at the fallen scrounger, prepared to restart my barrage if it made any small movement or gave any kind of sound. I only stepped close enough to distinguish its figure to ensure a precise aim, but certainly not a step closer. I saw the wound that became its downfall struck just behind its wide open eye, making me shiver, for it still faintly reflected the scant light it received. I made the visual organ my target, not only because I knew most of its brain was hidden beneath it, but to rid of the scornful eye forever. I pulled the trigger. The brains of the lifeless kite decorated half the stairs, even so, I half expected it to move. I heard a noise that made me start, but it was not the dead kite; it was the soft words of a concerned woman.
“Are you all right?” asked Siena, in a voice stifled by the make-shift panic room.
“I’m fine,” I hesitatingly replied, for I wasn’t completely sure if I was. “It’s dead, but don’t come out yet. Let me get it out of the way first.”
My thoughts were moving industriously, shifting through all the options of how to accomplish what I stated. I found myself reentering the master bedroom where I acquired two bed sheets, not caring about some luggage falling to the floor as a result. I rested one of the bed sheets on the dead creature and laid the other on the floor at the end of the stairs. Then I rolled the corpse to the fellow bed sheet, subsequently wrapping them together as best I could. I next dragged the carcass to the backyard. Back inside, I told the recently liberated inmates it was now safe to emerge from their asylum, advising them not to go in the backyard, if possible.
I met them running down the stairs, where they did not seem to take any notice of the residue left by the departed animal I had not entirely cleaned up. I could tell their hearts were completely lightened when they saw my face, especially seeing as I still had on much of my colorful armor.
“I suppose you’ll be going, then?” asked Siena, aiding me in discarding my getup.
“Yeah, I have to go check on Liz and everyone else.”
“Of course. It sounds like everything has calmed down.”
“And we’ll keep this rifle handy this time,” stated Valssi, coming out of her father’s study, tightly holding said weapon.
I was walking to the door with my hand reaching for the doorknob until I remembered the reason why I was there to begin with. I don’t know if they had forgotten also, but I was bound to remind them. “When your father gets here, tell him to meet us at Neves’ before dawn. We want to leave no later than early sunrise.” I left them without waiting for them to say another word, not that they would have responded if I had. They appeared more concerned about comprehending what it was they had just experienced.
If I could, I would have switched off the headlights on my drive back so that I did not have to look upon the sight of the kites littering the streets and yards. Most of these creatures were dead, but some only needed the sound of the passing engine or the light to shine on their alleged corpses for them to resume their struggle, in spite of their battered forms. Not many other people were on the streets. Most I did glimpse were either soldiers or police officers making sure the kites on the ground were truly deceased. Encouragingly, I did not see any of my kind among the perished, suggesting the majority were able to safely wait out the horde inside their homes or
vehicles. I was sure that gave no indication to their bruised mental states. We all knew it now. The infected were getting closer.
A strange glumness came over me when I looked at Neves’ house, knowing I would have to leave it soon, perhaps forever. I wondered why I did not feel this melancholy when leaving my own home. I at last opened the door without any idea of what to expect from the other side. I imagined everything from relief to resentment, thinking any reaction they chose was justifiable. They were all congregated in the living room, presumably waiting for me after Neves told them of my undertaking. I didn’t really see anyone else’s initial expression but Dayce’s, my eyes receiving his straightaway. The smile he radiated made all my previous struggles of the evening melt away as he came running into my arms.
“Did you see them, Daddy?” he asked, bestowing me his biggest hug. “Grandpa said they were kites, but kites don’t sound like that, right?”
“They were kites, Dayce, but they were sick,” I tenderly answered, giving his head a mild rubbing with my palm. “That’s why they sounded like that.”
I glanced up to see Liz approaching me. Her cheeks exposed the evidence of the tears she shed not too long ago.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” she asked while looking deep into my eyes, trying to read them.
“I’m fine,” I answered, embracing her, though I knew no matter what I said she would have suspicions to my words. “I was indoors when they came and was able to hide in a closet for most of it.”
Liz pulled away from me and not with a little passion said, “Don’t you ever leave like that again, and certainly not alone.” I thought she was going to break into tears again, but she had enough self-will not to. “We can’t afford to be separated, not ever.”
“I know, I know. It was stupid of me in hindsight.”
“Hindsight? It was stupid in hindsight, foresight, backsight, or any other sight you choose,” she said, more irritated than before.
“All right, Liz,” my mother calmly intervened as she touched her arm. “Roym is fine, thank the Spirits, and he said he won’t do it again. There’s no need to start a fight in front of Dayce.”
“We’re not fighting, Bethma,” returned Liz, with a tone not quite supporting her statement.
“What did you find out from the Tillars?” asked my mother, giving no more heed to Liz.
“They’re coming with us,” I told her and everyone else. “They’ll meet us before dawn.”
I didn’t end it there. I told them everything that had happened while at the Tillar’s, including the killing of the kite, the possession of my gun, and how the Tillar girls were holding up. As expected, the mention of the gun left Liz ill at ease, going purely by the face she conveyed, since a word she did not speak. The truth I spewed, but a lie I could not bring myself to suppress. I said I had bought it for our own safety soon after the crashing of the ship, though Liz seemed more troubled by me having to actually kill a kite and did not seem too concerned with that fact, or in reality, that fiction.
“I wonder how many people died?” asked Orins.
“I didn’t see anyone dead,” I responded. “It was dark, but I’m sure there weren’t many people on the streets when the swarm came.”
“I believe most of the flock didn’t actually come down since I saw a shit load of them continue westward,” added Neves.
“So the poor animals are infected too?” Delphnia said unhappily to herself, more concerned than I had ever heard her. “Oh, the poor things.”
It was not long before I found myself back into bed again, not taking a great deal of convincing for me to do so. I needed a few hours of sleep before our enterprise, not knowing when I would get another opportunity to do so on a bed. I had not realized how consumed I was from the eventful evening until my head touched the pillow, making me feel as though I was composed of fluff. Yet actual sleep did not come so readily. My body was drained, but my mind was still wide awake. It was not ready to put either the night in the past nor face the approaching future. Liz, likewise, soon joined me. She rarely spoke at all since my full disclosure, which I never enjoyed, but knew it should have been anticipated. It was here she asked her own questions.
“Why didn’t you tell me of your plan?” she gently asked, her hand caressing my shirtless chest. “I wouldn’t have been angry.”
“I know,” “I replied, staring up at the ceiling, almost matching the tenderness in her tone. “It wasn’t your anger I was afraid of. I just didn’t want to add complications if they turned out to be unnecessary.”
“Complications?” She sat up to look at me better, her tone now containing more inquisitiveness than anything else. “Like what?”
“I’m not sure. To tell you the truth, I didn’t really think it through. It was so spontaneous. I just felt like bringing up old emotions was wrong.”
“I’ve been feeling old emotions since we arrived here, Roym.” I turned my head to look up at her with my own curiosity, finally dawning on me that she must have equally been dealing with the past that belonged to the both of us. “Every time we visit my parents I can’t help thinking about the friend I once had and the events that broke us apart.”
I nearly laughed at what she said, understanding I was selfish for going through this alone. “If it makes you feel better,” I said, “I don’t think she’s angry with you anymore. That’s what I got from her, anyway.”
“It doesn’t matter what we feel anymore. It makes sense for us to work together.” She gave me a slim smile while she stroked my cheek with her hand before she let her head fall into her pillow. While closing my eyes to say goodnight to this stage of my life, I heard her whisper next to me, “May the Spirits guide us.”
Chapter Fourteen
Crossing
The night still overpowered the sky when my repose was broken by Neves’ muffled voice telling us that our expected guests had arrived. Liz did not seem enthusiastic by their announced arrival, though it likely had nothing to do with our newest companions and everything to do about soon having to leave her childhood home. The greeting was, at best, lukewarm, but supportive overall. Much bigger issues than the ones that had separated our families overruled any real unpleasantness that would have normally accompanied the assembly. However, that concept completely went over the head of my mother. She was so welcoming and cordial to Siena, it actually caused everyone else to feel a tad more awkward than they would have otherwise. The two former best friends reacted well, warmly hugging each other to essentially say that a new period of their lives had begun in that moment. Dayce was the only one who did not try to conceal his interest at the emergence of the new faces. Liz told him they were old family friends of ours and they were there to help us, which freed him from any confusion, if only outwardly.
They came in Mr. Tillar’s bulky pickup truck, which I saw was well-stocked with essentials of all kinds and types when I checked underneath the bed’s black tarp. Before we left, we discussed and agreed on Neves’ plan to journey westward and head for an old bridge twenty-five miles from town. He knew many were no longer well acquainted with it, given that it was replaced by an updated bridge eight miles away, making it prudent for us to attempt to cross it if we wanted to try and avoid as much traffic as possible. Our plan was to then proceed to a small city called Talib, which lied two hundred miles southeast near the end of the Dows, a narrow river fed by the Iva. The population of the pursued city was somewhere less than two hundred thousand, a number we liked the sound of. It seemed low enough not to draw the unwanted attention by the Towers or Injectors, as they appeared to be allured by the sight of a larger population. Yet, if we were attacked, the number sounded large enough to feel as if we had a fighter’s chance at escaping in the fray. We understood we couldn’t isolate ourselves and still expect to receive news and support.
The climbing sun was hiding behind thickening gray clouds, keeping the sky darker than was normal this time of year. Ultimately, the somber clouds released a light drizzle, expressi
ng their own sorrow for our departure. The drive to the unknown was a steady one. I would have preferred to have trekked at a faster rate, and there were times where I wanted nothing more than to press hard on the accelerator, but I knew conserving fuel was more important than rushing to a place where we would be forced to idle anyway. Following my van was Neves, Delphnia, and Orins in Neves’ truck. We knew the diesel fuel would not last longer than a hundred miles, but we also recognized that the extra supplies it carried would be useful in keeping our loads as light as possible for as long as it would last. The newcomers were leading our rolling fleet in Mr. Tillar’s heavy-duty pickup. His experience in the military and keeper of the peace made him the obvious choice to be our unofficial leader. Bervin completed our convoy with his small two-door car bringing up the rear. In the van, my mother employed the passenger seat, indignant by the fact she was not permitted to calm her nerves by smoking, while Liz was with Dayce in the backseat, each helping to relax the other.
We finally caught sight of the bridge twenty-six miles later. It would have been foolish to expect there to be no traffic or, if there was, that it would be advancing at a decent pace, so I was not disillusioned to see there was indeed a line waiting for us, but I was not indifferent to it either. It was moving no faster than a continent, but moving nonetheless. There were four lanes on the bridge, but only three were available to the public. The fourth was being used by military vehicles to travel unabated. My convoy joined the lane next to the military procession.
A half hour passed before Mr. Tillar’s front tires were able to touch the bridge, which felt so much like a breakthrough that we might as well have touched the surface of another planet. I often looked at the rearview mirror, sometimes to look at Liz and Dayce, sometimes to view Neves driving behind me, and, more times than not, it was to look at the lengthening line. In one of these glances, I saw some small fowl flying out from the lofty trees behind us. It began with a couple, then a few more, and then a great flock. The frantic flapping of their wings was nearly as dominant as the croaking calls they used as a warning signal. My leg muscles became tight, my brain was telling them to run. Verifying my fears, I heard the blast of an explosion that made me jump in my seat. It had felt and sounded so close that I thought we were surely inside of it, but it came from the forest behind me. Distant gunfire succeeded the explosion. All I wanted to do was escape before it worsened, for unquestionably it would get worse, but I was imprisoned. I heard some commotion to my left. I discovered the clamor to be the soldiers shouting orders and getting into their vehicles, hypnotically heading to the acknowledged danger. In a minute, their lane became accessible and I, along with everyone else in our line, decided to fill it.
A Depraved Blessing Page 10
