by Theo Vigo
LongBlondeHairedGirl: How is he doing?
The older woman doesn't respond. She continues to wipe the man's forehead, and we hear her begin to weep and sniffle.
LongBlondeHairedGirl: Mom?… How is he doing?
The young girl waits for a response. It takes a few seconds to arrive, but eventually does. The young girl's mother turns her head reluctantly away from the man to look up at her wondering daughter. The tears are flowing down her dirt stained cheeks. The three of them have obviously been through a tumultuous journey, travelling from wherever they came from to get to this point. They are all dirty; not only the older woman, and their clothes are all shagged out and raped. Her mother tries to answer, but is unable to speak any words. She can only muster up enough will to shake her head sorrowfully back and forth.
The young girl can't stand to see her mother and father in such a condition and is unable to control her own tears. She tries her best to be tough for her mother, but the tears break through like Niagara Falls, and her body follows soon after. Her knees give out, and she collapses down beside her mom. They both stay knelt beside their man, weeping in each other's arms. The mother kisses her daughter gently on the forehead before easing away. She takes a look at the washcloth that she holds in her hand. It is quite filthy.
TheMother: (sniffing) I'm just going to go and change his water. Stay with him. I'll be right back.
The Mother dips the rag into the bucket of water one last time, wrings it out and hands it to her daughter. She wearily gets to her feet and picks up the bucket, as well as one of the two oil lamps that have been keeping the corner relatively well lit. She takes one more look at her sickly husband before turning to leave the room. Her daughter watches her as she walks away.
LongBlondeHairedGirl: Be careful.
The mother turns and looks back to her daughter.
TheMother: I will. Just… stay with him.
She continues on and into the next room. The young girl eases herself into the place her mother was knelt in, closer to her father's head. She places the damp rag on to his forehead and stares up and down the length of the man that used to be her mighty father. This man, who used to beat up bad guys and chase away bad boyfriends, is now on his deathbed because of a silly little graze, a nothing of a scratch.
She had one time seen her father take a knife to the side of his gut, beat the guy up who did it and drive her and himself to the hospital. It was a couple years ago when she was fifteen, and she made the stupid decision to date a twenty-one year old gang-banger type. Her father had got them both through that, but he couldn't seem to get through this scratch on his forearm. The thought of it brings her to tears, and she places her head down on her dad's barely breathing chest. Just her and her dying father, alone in a dimly lit room of a lost cabin.
<><><>
Back in the immensely thick black brush of the deep forest, the branches that surround our frustrated zombie shake with a fierceness that flings leaves every which way. He struggles frantically for many seconds, and it seems like a lost cause until one last, good strive for escape frees him.
With a great thrust and what almost sounds like a howl of victory, our zombie is plunged down the side of a hidden cliff. It seems he got stuck in the outskirts of a thick brush that lines the edge of a large bluff. The drop falls for about one hundred feet, and his half naked body falls the entire way, sliding down the steep hillside in the dark, and rolling over any object to get in it's way. He tumbles into and out of bushes, ricochets off of large rocks, boulders, stumps and trucks, until he finally cascades across the forest floor to a graceful rest.
He lies there for a moment on his back, on top of the dirt, twigs and leaves. The darkness surrounds him, and his chest is still. No breath leaves his dead lips, if zombies have breath to breathe. Even his eyes are unblinking. But then, clarity. His chest begins to rise and lower as his breath again, regulates it's offbeat flow in and out of his body, half alive. And then his eyes, once again, begin to blink. He let's go a low, tired groan and starts to slowly get to his feet. The moment he does, he simply walks. What else is he to do? His pace is slower, but more so because of the absence of nutrition than the effect of the fall. As a matter of fact, he hasn't sustained any injuries whatsoever, at least, none that are handicapping. If anything, he can thank the hidden precipice for a few extra grazes, but no broken bones.
The greenery he walks through now is not nearly as thick as it had been back atop the brink of the cliff, and our zombie is able to traverse with relative ease. A light rain begins to fall as he walks on, sightless through the maze of trees. It is eerily silent. The only thing that can be heard is the pitter-patter of the rain on the leaves, the heavy breathing coming out of his throat and his ruffling through the trees. The very faint rumble of thunder can be heard approaching in the distance. He walks, and then comes to a sudden stop, staring blankly ahead. Or perhaps, not so blankly. Looking through his perspective, we can see what he sees. Unfocused, but clearly visible, is a moving light , flickering in the distance about one hundred yards away. They hold our zombie's attention for a moment, and then he starts toward them.
<><><>
Inside of the cabin, the pretty young girl with long blond hair and baby blues is still sobbing. Her head is laid on top of her father's chest, cupped by her arms. She sniffles as his breathing lifts her head up and down ever so slightly, and then hears a low murmuring that startles her. She quickly brings her head up and around to look behind herself.
LongBlondeHairedGirl: (harshly whispers) … Mom?!
The weak murmur continues, and the young girl realizes that the sound is coming from her father. Her head shoots back around, and she continues to dab the wet cloth across his forehead.
LongBlondeHairedGirl: … Dad?
He turns his head towards her, his eyes still closed, and tries to speak.
The Father: … M-.. Mari-…am?
The suffering man struggles to speak, but his daughter can clearly make out that he is calling out for his wife.
LongBlondeHairedGirl: No.. Daddy, it's me. Mom when to get you some water. She'll be right back.
The Father: (labored breathing) …Oh…
His head returns to its original position, his half open glossy eyes now staring directly in front of him, up to the ceiling.
LongBlondeHairedGirl: … Dad,.. how are you feeling?
It hurts to ask him such a question when he is in such a way. It hurts to say anything at all, but she feels like she has to say something, even if it is a pointless empty question like the one she just spouted off. Her father, being the indestructible man he is, slowly brings his head to its side to look into his daughter's eyes and answer it.
The Father: (breathes in) I'm… (breathes in deeper) I'll.. be fine.
LongBlondeHairedGirl: Okay, okay… You.. just rest up.
She continues to gently rub the washcloth over her father's head as he brings it back to its centered straight-ahead "staring at the ceiling" position. It was once cool, the cloth, but the heat from the fever had warmed the soaked material pretty much as soon as her mother had left the room. She looks at it with a slight disdain.
Mariam: … Gary?!
The teenager looks back to see her mother's astounded face standing in the doorway. Her hands are still full with the oil lamp in one, and a fresh bucket of water in the other. She scurries over to her husband and daughter as fast as she can without dropping her wares, places them down and takes her place beside her husband once again. Her daughter accommodates by moving over and handing the washcloth back to her.
Mariam: What happened? Is he okay? Gary, are you okay?
The tears begin to well in her eyes again. Her husband brings his head around to the sound of her voice, to look at his wife and tries to express himself, but instead of words, a trembling leaves his body. He shudders and tries to speak again.
Gary: I'm… c-c-c.. c-cold.
His wife feels his forehead. It's burning up. Outside, the rai
n has become heavier, and the downpour can be heard on the cabin's roof. The thunder's rumble becomes deeper with every passing moment, and the lightning begins to make itself known as well, teasing the cabin's occupants with brief winks of visibility.
Mariam: (chuckles w/ a bit of hysteria) How can you be so cold when you're burning up?!
She wrings the cold water off of the rag into the bucket and tries to put it back on her husband's forehead, but as soon as it touches him, he pulls away dramatically.
Gary: (hisses).. No.. too cold..
Mariam: (gasp) Gary, I'm sorry.
LongBlondeHairedGirl: He's cold, mom. I'll get some blankets.
Their daughter walks over to the blankets, placed not far away from them in the same room, and picks one up. She looks back at her suffering parents, and the pain turns her face into a scowl. She walks back over to them and places the blanket gently over her father's shivering body, then returns to her place knelt down beside her mother, who is now caressing the side of her husband's face.
Gary: (through his shivers) Ma-… Mariam…
Mariam: Yes, baby? What is it?
Gary: …I… I want t- … I want….
LongBlondeHairedGirl: He told me he was going to be fine, but he's having trouble speaking. (more tears begin to well up) … and now,… he's getting these shivers. (sniffs) I don't know what to do…
Mariam: I don't know what to do either, sweetie. We just have to make things as comfortable for your father as possible, okay?
Through tear-filled eyes and a sore red nose, the girl nods in agreement of her mother's words. Mariam looks down at her husband, Gary. His eyes are blinking half-heartedly, and his mouth opening and closing like a beached guppy.
Mariam: (breathes in deep) There are some flu pills in the cabinet, back in the washroom. They might help his temperature even out. I'm going to go and get them. I'll be right-
LongBlondeHairedGirl: No, mom. It's okay. You stay here with dad. I'll go get them.
Mariam: (reluctantly & sniffing) Um,.. okay.. It's just in the washroom. You get the pills, and you come right back.
LongBlondeHairedGirl: All right, I will.
She gets to her feet as she reassures her mother, and Mariam reaches up to her daughter with her left hand. The girl takes it in her right.
Mariam: Thank you, baby. Be careful.
LongBlondeHairedGirl: (smiling the best she can) I will...
The women release their hold on each other, and the young girl picks up one of the oil lamps. She leaves the room in search of the pills. As she makes her way through the cabin, we see that there are no other lights on. The place looks old and quite run down. Some walls are broken through, and the floors are unfinished, either that, or they are far beyond finished to the point of being dilapidated. The cabin must have been abandoned long before the outbreak, and this young girl and her family must have been lucky enough to come upon it, doubly fortunate that it was abandoned with running water, and triply fortunate that some supplies had been left behind. They had found some dirty but usable comforters in some of the bedrooms and a few antibiotics in the bathroom; left behind by the owners who it seems chose to never return. The cabin appears very ominous as she wanders through it with the oil lamp, creating shadows that dance with the ones created by the lightning that is now striking with the fierceness and sound of an electrically endowed whip of the gods.
She makes it to the washroom where she checks the cabinet below the sink using the light from the oil lamp to see the contents inside, moving around the toilet and tile cleaning products she finds, but there is no sign of any pills. She stands back up right and notices the mirror in front of her. Maybe her mother was talking about the medicine cabinet. She brings the oil lamp up to the mirror and sees her face in the dark reflection. It looks horrible. She looks old, dirty and tired. A disgraceful sight to behold. Unable to stand it anymore, she reaches up with her free hand and, voila, the mirror pops open. Inside, she sees a half empty tube of toothpaste, and other pills for other types of problems, but nothing to bring a fever down, so she closes it and meets her confused reflection staring back at her. She goes to the door of the washroom and calls out to her mother.
LongBlondeHairedGirl: Mom!!! I can't find the pills!!! Are you sure they're in the washroom!?
She doesn't receive an answer. The storm, that is now fully brewed, is far too loud for her mother to hear her from the room she is in with her father. Regardless, the girl tries one more time.
LongBlondeHairedGirl: MOOOOM!!!!!
No answer. She steps out of the washroom and into the cabin corridor, looks both ways and goes into the opposing room, deciding to continue her search for the pills.
<><><>
Inside of the sickroom, Mariam sits on the floor beside her dying husband, Gary. His shivers have slowed down now that he has the comforter over him, but his fever is still at an all time high, and it grows worse by the minute. She sits with her hands on top of Gary's chest, her head dipped down, and her eyes closed, looking as if she is praying over him. His eyes are also closed, but slowly begin to open. And then he speaks.
Gary: …Mariam…
Mariam's head swiftly rises and her eyes open.
Mariam: Yes…? Gary…
Gary: I… I know I said I was going to be fine, but… I don't… I don't know if…
Mariam: (sniffs) I know, I know… Baby,.. just relax. I want you to be comfortable.
Gary: I want you to know… that… I love you… and ********.
A break of lightening and thunder prevent us from hearing what their teenage daughter's name is or making it out on Gary's lips.
Gary: I.. I don't know… what to expect, but… if I can… I swear I'll be with you both forever…
Mariam: Gary… (sniffs) I believe that… and we love you too.. Forever…
Quick footsteps can be heard behind Mariam, and then a voice.
LongBlondeHairedGirl: Mom!? Is everything okay?
Their teen stands in the room's doorway with a look of concern. Mariam turns to see and reassure her daughter.
Mariam: (sniffs) Yes, sweetheart. Everything is fine. Your dad has just come to… (sniffs) Come and say hi…
Mariam tries to put on a smile as their daughter walks over to them, and then looks back down at her husband. When she gets over to them, their daughter remains standing.
LongBlondeHairedGirl: Daddy?
She gets down on her knees beside her mom and smiles at her father. Once again, lightning and thunder block out her name when her father speaks it.
Gary: ********, I love you so much. You've grown up to be such a beautiful young woman. I'm so proud of you.
LongBlondeHairedGirl: Heh,.. (sniffs) Thanks, daddy.
She rubs her grimy not-so-beautiful face, remembering how it looked in the mirror.
LongBlondeHairedGirl: I love you too, and I couldn't be prouder of you if I tried. I don't know what special thing I could've ever done to deserve an amazing father like you. I'm the luckiest daughter in the world.
A bit of ease washes over Gary's face and body now that he has been able to say to make peace with his family, and in feeling their compassion returned. He relaxes his head with the faintest of smiles, but his daughter stares down at him and notices the favorable expression. It is the first positive emotion she has seen from her father in a while, and it brings a genuine smile to her face as well. Her mother looks at them both and smiles, but a slightly sadder one, and then she realizes something. Thunder and lightning strike.
Mariam: ********, were you able to find the pills?
LongBlondeHairedGirl: Oh!.. No mom, I couldn't. I checked the washroom and even some of the other bedrooms, but I couldn't find any, nothing that would help with a fever at least.
Mariam: Dammit, I think I left them in the living room. Stay here, I'll get it.
LongBlondeHairedGirl: Are you sure?
Mariam: Yes. Stay here and talk to your father. They're just in the living space. I remember now.
I had a headache earlier and took a couple in there. I'll get them.
LongBlondeHairedGirl: All right… be careful.
Mariam: I will, baby.
Mariam gets up and grabs the flashlight this time instead of one of the oil lamps. She leaves her daughter and husband, walking out of the room and through the dark corridors toward the living space. Almost immediately upon entering it, Mariam sees the bottle of pills sitting on the dresser near a large window that looks out on to the front of the cabin. The family hadn't taken the extra precaution of boarding up their windows and doors. Maybe it's the solitude they feel, being in such a isolated cabin in such an isolated area, that gives them such a sense of safety. They didn't need to bar the doors and window, because what zombie could ever find them out here? It is a completely unwarrantable decision considering the current state of the world. Some might say, downright irresponsible.
The light of the moon, and the lightning that continues to strike at a very frequent rate, glares on the large front window of the cabin. The wind blows the branches of the trees, and their dancing limbs create beautifully terrifying silhouettes in the window. The patterns they create are quite menacing. One of the shadows even seems to be alive, not moving as naturally in the wind as the others do, as if it has it's own mind.
