He looked from Aniyah to Annette, a frown creasing his forehead. He’d always hated public speaking in school, but surely after everything he’d experienced, a quick speech would be a piece of cake. He’d faced the undead and his own worst nightmares, talking would be like a walk in the park. He nodded, feeling braver than he had in a long time. “Alright, I’ll do it. I’ll talk to anyone that wants to listen.”
“Wonderful!” Annette said. “I’ll hold everyone back after dinner, and we can do it in the food hall. Hopefully when everyone has a full stomach and a chance to relax, they’ll be more open to listening and seeing reason. And just so nothing goes wrong, I’ve asked Aaron and Allen to stand guard during your speech. They’ll be right by your side in case anything happens.”
He was a little annoyed she’d just assumed he was going to do the speech, but kept his mouth shut about it.
“Are you expecting something to happen?” Aniyah asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “If Miles is in any danger, I don’t want him anywhere near the food hall. His safety and comfort is my top priority. Despite everything he’s been through in his short life, he is still little more than a child.”
Miles bristled at the implication that he was a baby, but he didn’t say anything to that either. He knew it came from a place of concern, and he liked that someone cared enough about him to worry about his wellbeing. For some reason, he was special to Aniyah, and he wasn’t going to speak out against her when she was just trying to help him.
“We’re not expecting any problems,” Annette said. “But we just want to err on the side of caution. There’s no telling what might happen, and that’s just being honest. I’d hate to see anything happen to her, same as you.” Aniyah glared and Annette held up her hands in apology, but didn’t correct herself. She looked at Miles, who was frowning. “I’ll see you later tonight then. Try and be prepared. We want this to go over smoothly. I hate to put so much pressure on someone so young, but you’re our best bet at keeping the peace between people like you and the rest of us.”
The door closed behind her, and Aniyah made a disapproving sound in the back of her throat. “Not even a thank you for sticking your neck out for the community. And she misgendered you again. I know she’s doing it on purpose. Once or twice is understandable when people are still learning and getting used to it, but she does it just to be stubborn, I think. You’ve gone by Miles for months now; clearly it’s not just a phase.” She looked at him and her features softened. “I’m proud of you, though. I think you’re doing the right thing, even if nobody else appreciates it.”
“I hope so.” He looked at the door. “Maybe I should head home early and start working on that speech. I wanna be as prepared as possible. Is that okay?”
“Of course,” Aniyah said. “I only have one more last minute appointment tonight that isn’t in the books, and then I’ll see you at the meeting later. I think I can manage by myself for a little while. Do what you need to do.”
I wonder if that off the record meeting is with Allen.
Blushing, Miles put away the rest of the scattered papers on his desk, making sure to leave out the ones Aniyah would need for any last minute appointment. When his area was tidy, he exited the doctor’s building, closing the door shut behind him and squinting at the harshness of the sun. There was still a little snow on the ground leftover from the last storm they’d had, but he hoped it would all be gone in the next couple of weeks. Hopefully things would improve once they got a little warmer out. His mother always said that spirits rose with the temperature.
Deep in thought, Miles didn’t even notice that he wasn’t alone on the sidewalk until he bumped into someone. When he looked up from his feet, he was surprised to find Sam in front of him. He realized that he must have been walking faster than he thought to have already reached the greenhouses where he knew Sam worked. She stared at him, but there was no hatred in her eyes, only a tenseness to her shoulders.
“Hey, Hannah.” She winced. “Sorry, Miles.”
“It’s okay,” he said quickly. “Most people don’t bother to correct themselves. So thank you.”
She nodded, and the two lapsed into a very awkward silence. Miles shifted his feet nervously, waiting for her to say or do something. He figured she would yell at him for Reese’s death, but she stayed silent, as if deep in thought. When she finally spoke, Miles was surprised to hear kindness in her voice. “I heard you’re gonna be speaking at the food hall tonight after dinner.” When she saw the look of surprise on his face, she smiled. “Everyone is talking about it. A lot of people are excited. Are you nervous?”
“Terrified,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what to say to these people. Most of them hate me for something I can’t help, either my condition or my identity.”
“You just have to give them time and they’ll come around,” Sam said. “If you’re worried about tonight, you should go home now and write out any questions you can think of that someone might ask you. That way you’ll have an answer prepared and you’ll have less to worry about, and you’ll sound more intelligent, too. Think of questions you’d ask yourself—about your condition or your identity—and just be honest with yourself. Then you can memorize your answers, and it’ll help calm your nerves.”
It sounded like a good idea. He could be prepared for the meeting, and like Aniyah was hoping, he might even learn something more about himself in the process. “Thanks,” he said, giving Sam a grateful smile.
“No problem,” she said, turning. “I have to get going, but I’ll be there tonight cheering you on. Let me know if you need anything. And good luck.”
He watched her walk away, feeling surprised about how that had just gone. There had been no yelling, no crying, and no blame…just support. She had listened to him and instead of casting aside his doubts she had offered advice to help him feel better. How many times had he played this scenario in his mind, leaving himself sullen and confused and guilty? When it finally played out for real, it ended up being a positive thing.
He headed home, feeling a little better about the meeting. Talking to Sam had given him the means to make it through tonight in one piece. When he got home, he shut himself away in the office, grabbed a couple sheets of paper and a pen, and sat down at Aniyah’s desk. The questions flowed from his mind with surprising ease, and before too long, he’d already filled up more than three pages of questions and answers. Once he started writing, he couldn’t seem to stop. He poured his heart into the answers, feeling a slight weight lift off his shoulders in the process.
Most of the questions dealt with his transition from zombie back to human, but there were a couple about his identity as well. He figured some people might be equally curious about both subjects and he wanted to give them as much information as he could. There were still some things he was learning about his identity, but he knew enough to be able to share with the community. Hopefully once they learned a thing or two about who he was, they’d be less scared and wary of him. He hated to think that anyone here thought he was a freak.
Hopefully this will change their minds. If I can be open and honest, they might learn something, that I’m just like them…struggling to find my place in this world. Please let them understand.
He glanced out the window and noticed that it was getting dark out. He’d worked right through dinner, and the meeting would probably be starting any time now. He’d have to get a move on if he was going to make it in time. How would it look if he arrived late and made everyone wait to hear what he had to say? That definitely wouldn’t help his case any. Miles knew he’d hate having to sit around and wait for someone. It wasn’t professional.
He grabbed his notes, slipped on his shoes and grabbed a jacket, and headed out the front door. His nose was buried in the papers as he tried to go over them one more time before getting to the food hall, and he wasn’t paying attention to anything around him. When someone grabbed his arm and violently yanked him to the ground, he didn’t even see it coming. One mi
nute he was on the sidewalk, and the next he was being dragged into a nearby backyard by a boy a couple of years older than him. The boy planted his foot on Miles’ shoulder and shoved, flipping him over onto his back in the snow.
When he looked up, he saw two girls and a boy not much older than him. The girls sneered down at him as if he were a cockroach beneath their boots, their lips curled back and revealing their teeth. They reminded him of wild animals, like cobras ready to strike their poor unsuspecting prey. And Miles was that prey.
One of the girls sniffed. “Look at you,” she said, her voice dripping with disgust, her words burning just like acid. “It’s bad enough you’re one of those dead freaks, but you had to go and be even more of a freak.”
“Yeah, a freak twice over,” the other girl jumped in, her eyes narrowing as she looked down at him. “Do you actually think you’re a boy?” she laughed, a fake and harsh sound that made Miles flinch. It rooted him to the spot, his fear anchoring him to the ground. “Don’t make me laugh. You’ll never have a dick; you’ll just be a messed up fag.”
Miles clenched his hands, feeling tears sting at his eyes. “That’s not true,” he said, his voice trembling. “I’m not a freak. I’m just different than you, and there’s nothing wrong with that! I’m a good person and I deserve respect from everyone just like you.”
The boy snorted. “A good person? From what I heard, you got a real good person killed, all because you flipped your shit and couldn’t handle being around the zombies. What’s the matter, Hannah? Did being near them make you realize what a sick and twisted monster you are? Did you look at them and realize that used to be you? That you’d never be normal again, no matter how much you tried pretending you were? You’re not healed; you’re just a lab experiment gone wrong. All of you are.”
“She probably wanted to fuck them,” the second girl said in disgust. “Do you wanna fuck zombies?”
“You should have just stayed dead,” the first girl said, crossing her arms over her chest.
Before Miles could speak again, her boot lashed out faster than he could react. The toe of her boot connected solidly with his shoulder, knocking him back to the ground. He barely had time to cover his face and neck before the blows started raining down on him from all sides. Pain flared up in his shoulders, back, and stomach and it spread throughout his entire body. “Stop!” he shouted, pleading with them. He whimpered and tried to curl up into a ball, hopefully making himself a smaller target, but it didn’t seem to do any good. The blows came faster and faster, refusing to let up. He cried out, begging the pain to stop. When he was sure he was going to die, the blows stopped.
He peeked up through his fingers and saw Aaron descending on the teens like an avenging angel. He grabbed a fistful of the first girl’s shirt and swept her legs out from under her, sending her to the ground and knocking the air from her lungs and hitting her head. The boy latched onto his arm, trying to yank him away from Miles. Aaron turned and slammed his fist into the boy’s face, crunching the bone in his nose and causing blood to spurt down his face. The second girl tried to dart past Aaron and escape, but he brought his elbow back, driving it into her stomach. She wheezed like an asthmatic smoker and dropped to her knees, clutching her stomach, her face white as a sheet.
The three of them lay moaning in the snow, rolling around on the ground and paying Miles no more attention. Aaron turned to Miles, his eyes wide and his breathing harsh, like he was still in attack mode. For a second, Miles was almost scared of him, but he knew that Aaron had done it for him. Aaron had protected Miles and probably saved his life. There was no way he was going to hurt him, not after rescuing him like that. When Aaron extended his hand, Miles took it without hesitation. Aaron helped him to his feet, and Miles hissed in pain as everything burned, leaving him gasping for breath and feeling like he’d just been hit by a massive truck.
Aaron looked him over, checking him for any signs of serious injury. His hands were deft and efficient as they did their job, and it was over before Miles could even consider feeling weird about it. His body ached, but he was alive, and he figured the damage couldn’t be too bad if he wasn’t puking up blood in the snow. His thoughts were confirmed when Aaron nodded, a grim look on his face. “I think you’ll be okay, but you should get checked out by Aniyah when you can. Not that there’s much she can do for you if anything is seriously wrong,” he said. “Just try and be careful, and know that you’re gonna have a lot of bruises for the next few days. I think your winter coat might have prevented a lot of the damage.”
Miles nodded. “Thank you, Aaron.” He looked down at the ground, feeling a mixture of emotions come over him. He was grateful to Aaron, but he was also ashamed. It felt like there was a strange aura around the two of them, an air of uncertainty, or maybe even regret. He wasn’t sure what else to say to Aaron other than thank you, but he felt like there needed to be something. Perhaps an apology? Miles’ stomach clenched at the thought, and his mind raced as he searched for the words to say.
Gently, Aaron reached out and put his hand on Miles’ shoulder. “Everything is gonna be alright,” he said quietly, his voice calm and comforting. “Would you like me to escort you to Aniyah?”
He wanted to say yes. More than anything, he wanted to be with her right now, to have her comfort him like she had been since he first woke up here. But there was another feeling, deep down inside. One he couldn’t ignore. Anger. He was furious that anyone would try and stop him from speaking his mind and sharing his experiences. He knew that nothing would ever change if he wasn’t brave enough to stand up and speak his mind. Nothing was going to stop him from making it to that meeting, not bruises or scrapes or cuts. He needed to tough it out and see this through, just like he said he would.
“No,” he said finally. “I wanna go to the food hall. I’m supposed to be giving a speech or something.”
Aaron nodded. “I know. But you’re injured. Are you sure you don’t wanna go sit down for awhile? I’m sure everyone would understand if you couldn’t make it.”
“I’m sure. I wanna do this. I have to. They need to know what it’s like to be me, or they’ll never understand what people like me are going through. Things will just get worse, and people will keep getting hurt. If they see me like this, it’ll be a slap in the face, and they’ll know exactly what I go through.”
Aaron nodded and bent down to pick the dropped papers off the ground. They were wet and some of the pen had smudged in places, but he brushed the snow off of them and handed them over. “Then you’re gonna need these. I hope you can still read them.”
“I think I know what most of them say,” Miles said, glancing at the soggy papers in his hands. “I can still make out most of the important stuff though.” He turned away from where the three teens were still rolling around in the snow, moaning and acting like babies when they had been so tough earlier, and he hobbled back to the sidewalk. Aaron walked silently alongside him, his eyes roaming over every yard and in every shadow, searching for anyone else that might mean Miles harm.
“I ran into Sam earlier,” Miles said quietly. He was surprised he’d thought to mention it at all and he wasn’t sure why he brought it up in the first place, but he had. And now he waited for a reply with his breath held, too scared to breathe in case he had a panic attack.
“I heard. She seemed excited for the meeting tonight. Perhaps excited isn’t the right word, but you get what I’m saying, right? She’s happy for you to be taking such a courageous leap.”
Miles was surprised. When they’d bumped into each other earlier, things had been polite and maybe even a little pleasant, but for her to be happy for him? He twiddled his thumbs nervously, his hands shaking a little. “Why would she be happy for me after what happened?”
He didn’t miss when Aaron’s eyes flicked over to him briefly, sizing up his features. “Why wouldn’t she be? None of us blames you, Miles. What happened was as much out of your control as it was ours. Once things settled down and we came back f
rom Detroit and saw how the others were all reacting, we quickly began to understand it wasn’t your fault. You’re not the only one prone to outbursts like that, you know. Ryder’s been having them ever since he returned, and he’s given us a much better understanding of where you were at the time.”
Miles glanced over and noticed how tired Aaron looked. He wondered how poorly Ryder was adjusting to life back in the community. He knew what it was like to be in that dark place after awakening, where nothing makes sense and the nightmares never stopped. “How is he doing? I haven’t seen him since he showed up.”
“We’re doing our best to deal with any problems that come up. For now all we can really do is sit back and observe and hope things get better. Sam’s the only one that can really calm him down when he has an episode. I don’t know what he’d be like if it weren’t for her. She’s his savior, just as he’s always been hers since the day they met.” He smiled slowly, as if remembering something. “They’re a truly remarkable pair.”
“Well I’m glad everyone that went to Detroit came back, even if Ryder took a little longer. I’m glad you’re all okay, for the most part.”
“He’s not okay, but hopefully he will be someday. It’d be nice if we knew more about the effects and stuff. Then we could help him cope and get some semblance of his normal self back.” He looked over at Miles. “You seem to be doing pretty well these days. I’m hopeful someday Ryder can get to the point you’re at now. Who knows, your speech tonight might even help a little. Good luck,” he said, giving Miles’ shoulder a light squeeze. “I’ll be standing guard to make sure nobody tries anything else.”
Miles realized they’d reached the food hall. Aaron headed inside, presumably to talk to Annette real fast about what had happened. Miles took a minute to go over his papers one more time, but he was itching to get in front of the community and speak his mind. Earlier he’d been terrified at the thought, but a fire filled his belly now, and it was all he could to do to keep from strutting up to the podium and demanding their respect and attention. Instead, he carefully made his way to the front and took a second to collect his thoughts.
Tales of Terror from Survivors (Zombie Apocalypse #3.5) Page 9
