by Tara Brown
She wipes my eyes and nods. “If you don't like him back, you really should let him down so I can help him get over you.”
I laugh harder. “Stop ruining my pout with all your evil perspective.”
“Sucks being mocked by an orphan, doesn't it? Harder to hit back.” She lifts her hands innocently. “I guess we could fight for him, since he is probably the last guy our age who isn’t a weirdo.” She scoffs. “I mean, beyond the World of Warcraft. Who even plays that crap?”
I shove her lightly. “Whatever. I have many life skills that were learned from WOW.”
“Yes, bow hunting, nunchucks, and drawing ligers. I know these lines. You’re stealing them from that movie with the nerdy guys.” She shoves me back. We walk up the grass of the huge house and both sigh when we see it in all its glory. “It really is a nice house.” She shakes her head as we round the corner and walk to the Hummer.
Miles nods at the car in the driveway. “We’re taking this.” It’s a BMW hatchback. “It’s full and it’ll be awesome on gas.” He climbs in the back with Erin. Lee gives me a winning grin. “And super roomy.” She rolls her eyes as she climbs in the backseat with the gloomy lovebirds.
Seeing them all get in makes me wonder where Kyle is. The front door is still open to the house. I walk to it with my stomach on edge and ready to drop. When I get inside he’s there, right there, standing in the hallway. He winces when he sees me, but I don't let him walk away from me. I don't know why, but I step into him and lift my face, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. I stay there for a second, just smelling him. He smells good, like deodorant and sweat mixing in the right way. He wraps his arms around me and lowers his face into my neck. “I’m sorry I lied to you. I should have told you that Miles told me you played.”
I shake my head. “It doesn't matter now. The next time we want to play, we’ll have to make costumes so we can cosplay like LARP weirdos.”
He chuckles into my neck.
I pull back. “How did you know which guild and which realm?”
“Jamie. I asked her to look, after I saw pictures and how pretty you were, and Miles told me some funny stories. I saw videos of you girls all the time. His mom always recorded the games, so I watched you play lacrosse. Sometimes she would Facetime us and we’d watch live. And then later, you and I would play and I’d be dead-assed exhausted because of the time difference, but I’d stay up so I could talk to you. You’d tell me about the game and I could picture it all because I’d been there, sort of.” His cheeks redden. “I didn't mean to be a creepy Internet perve. It just happened.”
A slow smile creeps across my lips. “You don't scare me.”
His face matches mine, grinning away. “You scare me plenty enough for the both of us.” He kisses my forehead like my dad always does and mutters, “Now let’s go find your dad.” He grabs my hand and walks outside, closing the door behind him.
When he starts the car he gives us all a look. “We can probably make it in about ten hours, so let’s do this.”
The drive is long but the roads are empty. The path we cleared the last time is still there and there are fewer biters the entire way.
We don't talk. I don't think there’s anything to talk about. I think we’re all shocked and tired. What do you add to the week we've all experienced? How do you laugh and joke about simple things when something so unbelievable has occurred? You don't. You wait for the shock to pass.
All of them are orphaned, all in one week.
We all lost loved ones.
There is nothing to say that will ever make that go away.
It takes us ten hours to get from the West Coast to Laurel but the weight of the situation doesn't lift from our shoulders. When we enter Laurel I don't recognize it. Bodies lie about, scattered. A deer runs across the grass of a house that looks like it burned days ago. Smoke rises from places it shouldn't and garbage scuttles with the wind. The sun is setting and as we drive past Sasha’s street my insides tighten. I’m on edge, even when I see Mrs. Carlson’s house with all her Halloween decorations out. Her huge blow-up cat is deflated and caught in her tree. It was Joey’s favorite decoration in town.
Kyle puts his turn signal on and turns onto my street. I smile when I hear the ticking of the signal. He starts to laugh, shaking his head. Lee giggles in the backseat, slapping him. We don't have to say a thing to get the car roaring with laughter.
I finish laughing, putting a hand out for him. “Stop before the house. In case there are any biters still alive. I saw quite a few still on the highway.”
He gives me a look. “I’ll come with you.”
“No, take these guys to the mountain and check on my sister. I’ll wait in the house until the night’s over and then get supplies with my dad.”
Kyle’s mouth tightens, and for the first time I notice how soft his lips look normally. “If he isn’t here, you’ll be alone. We go together.”
I want to argue but he has a point. I don't want to be alone. He pulls over two doors down from my house, in front of Mrs. McFarthen’s house. I can’t help but ask, “How do you know where I live?”
“I checked it out on Google Earth before we left Boston. We came here first.” He shrugs, taking his seat belt off. It is exactly like Lee said it would be—he came for me. He panicked and I was the first place he thought to go.
I look around the neighborhood before checking my magazine and climbing out. Miles jumps out with us, nodding at the barren street filled with bodies, trash, and vehicles. “We’ll meet you up there tomorrow with supplies and your dad, if he’s here somewhere. If he’s already there we’ll tell him you’re coming.” He looks at Kyle with a serious face. “I don't need to tell you to take care of her?”
“You can if you want to. The big-brother antics kind of do it for me.” Kyle winks at him.
They’re the kind of guy friends that make you ponder their sexuality. Miles lifts his middle finger in the air. “See you in a day, dick.”
“Make sure the girls are okay,” I add, also an unnecessary thing to say.
“We will.” Lee waves at me from the backseat as Erin climbs up front. Miles climbs in and drives off, leaving us on the street in front of the house.
Kyle gives me a weird look. It isn’t exactly a smile, but it’s something I consider pleasant. He runs a hand through his hair and I don't know if it's the dim light of the setting sun or what, but when his lips curl up into a grin, I find it boyishly attractive. Knowing all his little secrets makes it easier to see the good side of the creepy cyberstalker who Google Earths your house so he can come and save you.
I turn and walk toward the house, remembering I left the garage door unlocked when I left my mom in there to die. The streets are still, with only the whistling wind to taunt us, or encourage us.
“Shouldn't we look around before we go in? In case someone is here?”
“No. Shhh.” I lift my hand to the cold knob of the side door into the garage and shake my head. When I turn it my stomach starts to twinge. I don't know what it is, but something picks at me. The stale air in the garage doesn't feel right. I walk across, still getting a faint scent of bleach in the air.
When I lift my hand for the knob to my house, something grabs my arm. I jump, turning back to see Kyle pressing his finger to his lips. “We don't usually go inside of houses, Lou. We need to be careful. People are crazy.”
I nod but open the door anyway. There is something stronger than reason pulling me forward. I push the door to the hallway open, smelling and listening at the same time. The house stinks a little like the fridge door is open and the food is rotting. I peek my head inside, scanning the still hall and front door. The boards are up and the stain on the bench still haunts me.
I look back at Kyle, smiling a little and mouthing, “Did you really pee?” He nods, crossing his heart silently. It makes me feel better.
We creep inside and the moment he closes the door I see her hand. The boards are up in the back living room and kitchen, and m
y mom is still on the floor, exactly where I left her.
But her hands aren’t where my eyes are stuck. The note is gone.
He came in—he saw it. I forgot all about it. I turn to Kyle, sighing. “My dad was here. The note telling him I went to the ski mountain is gone.”
He wrinkles his nose, his stare avoiding my dead mother on the floor. “And no cell phones to just ring up Miles and get him to turn around. Excellent. Did I mention I am loving the future?”
I glance at the stairs, pausing for a moment and contemplating all the clean laundry we have upstairs. “Speaking of the future, you want to get changed? The tubs are both full of clean water and we have clean clothes.”
He opens his mouth to protest but agrees. “Okay.” He offers me his hand. I place mine in it, enjoying the feel of the warmth and pull him toward the stairs. We still move in silence. For me it’s partly out of respect for my dead mother’s body in the kitchen. But also I have never led a boy up the stairs in my house before. I have never had a boy in my house when my parents weren’t home.
Touching his hand makes my stomach ache but I continue to climb the stairs slowly, silently. When I get to the top I nod at my parents’ room. “Go in there. The bathroom has water to wash up with. My dad’s clothes should fit you.”
He looks like he might say something else, but I let go of his hand and walk into my room, closing the door. I lean against it and take a deep breath. I like him and I don't know how to feel about that.
The cool air in my room feels nice, refreshing even. I drag my shirt off and my pants, slinking on my robe, taking a deep breath of it. The smell of the robe is my family. I open the door back up, peeking down to my bathroom I share with Joey. He’s not in the hall and the door to my parents’ room is closed so I creep to my bathroom. I drop the robe to the floor, stepping into the cold water and lowering my tense body. I grab the soap and wash as fast as I can, trying not to gasp at the frigid water. It stings in places I didn't even know I was cut. My body has become numb to everything lately.
I don't dry off. I jump back up and shrug on my robe, walking back to my room shivering. When I close the door the cool breeze coming in my open window makes the shivering worse. I realize then that I never left my window open. I closed it, purposefully, when I was boarding everything up. My dad must have.
The wind feels like it chills the air around me a hundred degrees. I swear I have frost on my skin so I hurry to my dresser, pulling on clean clothes, three layers of them.
I open the closet to grab a pair of shoes. I smell it then. The open window must have stopped me from smelling it with the closet door closed.
From the dark, gray hands fly out at me. A face I don't know stumbles from the back, snarling and growling at me. Hands drag me down. The gray face of the gaunt man cries out as he shoves his hand into my mouth. I scream, clawing at him frantically, but as I push at his face his mouth clamps down, sending searing pain up my arm. Movement behind me flashes, the man cries out, blood sprays across my face, getting in my mouth. The rusty, rotten taste of it coats my tongue. I gag, heaving onto the floor.
The dying man’s ragged breath ends with the flash of silver and the grunt of Kyle as he drags me back from the closet. His body wraps around mine as his eyes search me in a frenzy. “Are you hurt?”
I lift my hand, wincing and sobbing but trying to spit onto the carpet in my room. He wipes me. “It’s probably fine—it’s the evening of the seventh day. You’re fine. Trust me, this isn’t even that deep.” He wipes, causing me to cry out again.
“What’s going on?” A man’s voice I know fills the panicky moment. “Lou?”
I swear I’m hallucinating, but when I turn toward the voice I see his face. “Dad?”
“LOU!” he jumps down, grabbing me and lifting me into his arms. “LOU, YOU’RE ALIVE!” He kisses my cheeks and hugs me. I’m dangling in the air and being crushed when he pauses and looks at the trembling guy standing in front of him. “Who’s this? Is that my sweater?” He lowers me and lets me stand next to him.
Kyle lifts a hand. “Kyle Severson, sir. A friend of Miles O’Brian from Boston.”
Dad shakes his hand, staring at him and then the man on the floor. “Did he bite you?”
Kyle shakes his head, his face paling. “Not me.”
My dad’s eyes dart to me. He wipes the blood from my face. “It’s unlikely to be infected without a bite. You’ll be fine if the rotten blood got in your mouth.”
I lift my slowly bleeding hand, seeing the blood drop to the carpet. His eyes lower. “That is very likely to infect you.”
I nod. “But the doctor at the base on Whidbey said that the material expires tonight, at the end of the day.”
Dad shakes his head. “That's not quite how it works. What the man meant was that the material makes anyone hosting it—or infected as we all say—expire. The material self-destructs, erasing all trace of itself. It’s a way of ensuring the material never makes it into the enemy’s hands. We can destroy it by imploding the host.”
Kyle slumps to his knees. “Oh, come on.”
My hand is throbbing but the lump of fear in my throat is the part that hurts the most.
Chapter Fourteen
The light comes and goes behind my eyes, making it hard to see my father but I can hear him. He’s shouting at Kyle, and even though they don't know each other, Kyle is shouting back. Everything is being shuffled around me and for some unknown reason it agitates me. I can feel the annoyance setting me off but I refuse to open my mouth. My legs twitch like they want to run.
I push to my feet, stumbling down the stairs. My legs aren’t working the way I need them to so I trip part way and slip down the last couple steps, slamming into the wall across from the last stair. Her hand catches my eyes, drawing me to her. I stagger there, bumping and knocking into walls. The urge to lie down is so overwhelming I can hardly fight it.
Light fills my head again, limiting my vision. But I can still see her hand.
A spasm jolts me, dropping me to my knees as a scream fills the air. I only realize it’s me screaming when I close my lips and the noise stops. My fingers feel along the floor, dragging me to my destination.
When I feel her hand brush against mine I allow my body to flop to the floor, the thing it’s been wanting since the weird feeling took over. I slide my hand over hers, hardly able to see. Her skin is warm compared to mine. Either she’s warmed from decomposition or I’m freezing. I don't feel cold but I don't really feel anything.
My hands grip to her as my mind tells me she’s alive and she’s holding my hand too. She’s touching me, loving me. She’s there, here, with me.
“I’m sorry, Mom.” The words leave my lips as a soft whisper but there’s something gravelly to my voice. It doesn't sound like mine.
It’s then that the change starts. I feel every hair on my body instantly and then again nothing. The nerves turn on, sending screaming pain through my body and then off again. It’s akin to being electrocuted. I almost wonder if my father is doing to me what he did to that other man, but then the pain increases. My jaw clamps shut, as does my grip on my mother’s hand.
Images flash through my head, taking over everything and making me relive each moment.
The time I was mean to Joey for being slow. I was thirteen and angry I had to walk her to kindergarten. She was so slow, I wanted to hang out with my friends, not be responsible for her. In the image she’s so tiny. I hate myself for being mean to her.
The time I spit in my mom’s coffee. I watched her drink it. I didn't say anything. My grip on her hand lessens with shame.
The time I lied and told my dad I needed to be picked up because someone was following me, but really it was just that I had partied all night and was tired and lazy. The stressed look on his face killed me when I realized what I had done. But I never told the truth.
The time I kissed Sasha’s boyfriend, Mark. We had smoked a joint, something I never did again because I hated not being in
control.
The time I stole a lip gloss just to see if I could.
The time I told Miles a teacher had asked him to come to the workout room at the gym at 4 p.m. because I knew Sabrina Holt was there with Lars McLennan and they had a thing behind his back. I didn't do it because I wanted Miles to know, I did it because I wanted Miles.
Each moment stings and burns inside of me. Hot tears seep through my squeezed eyelids. Nothing in my body hurts as much as my heart from seeing each sin. That's how they’re registering in my head. They’re a sin. I am a sinner.
The white light burns its way through me, and somewhere along the journey it becomes the most pain I have ever felt, and I get lost. I know I’m in my body. I know I’m me. But I get lost.
The pain fades, I think because a decision has been made about something. Maybe my sin.
My eyes flutter, bringing into view the grayish hand of my mother in my fleshy palm. Her skin is dried and coated in something, crystals. They shine in the weird light I see.
Noise catches my attention. My head jerks to the left and then the right. I feel like someone is driving me, someone is moving me to the place they want. My hands press down, lifting my body into the air until my legs can find their way to a position where I can stand. It tugs at joints and ligaments and hurts but I can’t stop it.
When I’m standing the pain goes away but something else takes over. Thirst. Hunger. Desire. My teeth feel like they’re sweating or secreting, they’re so desperate to feel something between them. I walk to the noise, unsure of my footsteps. Kyle lumbers down the stairs. Each of his steps reverberates inside of me. He smells, I know his smell. He stops on the stairs, giving me an odd look. “Lou?”
I clench, wanting so badly to bite him. His smell becomes a taste in my watering mouth. He takes a step away from me, taking his deliciousness with him. “Lou.”
My foot moves clumsily, taking me up one stair.
