Ophelia

by Briana Rain

  It shrieked so loud that it left a ringing in my eardrums, as if it was trying to threaten me. Trying to scare me even more, to show me who's boss. It was devoted to the moment, like taking a good whiff of the cookies you just made before diving into them.

  It lunged, and I closed my eyes. I didn't accept that these would be my last moments. My arms were up, protecting my face, like I actually stood a chance. I was braced for the impact, except…

  It never came.

  I almost didn't dare myself to open my eyes, but I was glad I did.

  Clyde.

  Because of the screaming and the shrieking and the gunshots, I didn't even hear him. All I knew was that he had his boot on the top of the Crazy’s skull to hold it down so he could remove his shovel from the dead, slimy cranium.

  After that was done he held his hand out to me. It almost didn't look real. The way his head was blocking out the sun and…

  The unrealistic moment ended sooner than expected when a Crazy out of nowhere leaped and tackled Clyde. They tumbled sideways, and I decided that I should probably get up now. At the end of the rolling, Clyde found himself on top, strangling it with the handle of the shovel. He applied all of his body weight to the handle, and within the next moment, the Crazy was sickeningly decapitated. There was probably a sound accompanying the action that would make me feel even more ill, but I couldn't hear it over the… over the everything.

  Blood shot and poured out, and after that, that weird orange crap oozed out. Clyde was already standing up by this time, but when he saw that slime, he scrambled, his feet moving faster than his body to get away.

  Another Crazy came sprinting out of the trees, arms glued to its side. Instead going to help Clyde, because honestly, he was like the only one in our group who could do this whole apocalypse thing solo, I ran to the train to try again at the doors. There wasn't much I could do for this situation, being weaponless.

  I tried again, and I failed again, but didn’t give up.

  I felt Clyde run up behind me, and together, we barely inched the door open to give us that extra space that we needed to get in. In the corner of my eye, I saw people, our live people, hauling ass towards us, gunfire leading the way.

  I jumped in. Then Clyde. Then Harrison, who had my sister thrown over his shoulder. And then Lucky, who Clyde grabbed onto and yanked up. Then Addeline, Mom, and James, who fired one last bullet before being dragged into the car by his screaming brother.

  Now came the moment of truth: whether we could get this damn door closed or not. It was simple, really. Closed door equaled living for another day. Open door equaled being eaten alive by Crazies who would undoubtedly take advantage of their meal being all packed up for them like this.

  Clyde and I went to work on the door, and I cringed when the metal on metal friction let out a loud as heck screeching. We didn't really get anywhere until Harrison got with the program and ran over after a two seconds of this. Two seconds, unfortunately, was all a Crazy needed to propel itself into the shrinking opening. Only its top half could get in. It’s pelvis was too wide. It shrieked to call the others and clawed at the floor. Clawed towards Vi, who screamed, as the Crazy landed right in front of her, and had its slimy, taloned hand outstretched towards her.

  Mom reacted instantly. Her shoe came down on the head of the Crazy so hard, that I questioned whether or not she had been subjected to gamma radiation at some point in her life.

  The Crazy was cut off in mid-shriek, and Mom used the end of my bat to push the carcass out of our potential safe haven. We resumed pushing and grunting, and didn't stop until we heard the sound of metal smash against metal.

  I dropped to the floor, as did Harrison. But Clyde managed to stagger over to Addeline to see if she was all right.

  Stupid Clyde. Always showing up the rest of us.

  Addeline responded to Clyde’s concern by throwing up in the corner. I held my shirt over my nose, because wow that reeked.

  “How did you know this was here, O?” My mom asked. “You ran right for it when the Crazies started coming this way.”

  Which could have been interpreted as: you left us. You left us on a freaking gamble, O.

  I took a deep breath, actually, I was already taking deep breaths, as the last couple minutes was a workout.

  “I saw this when I got lost on my way back to the car to get hand sanitizer,” Before I got shot at, “and our escape vehicle is gone, and we can't outrun those things.”

  Not if we all want to stay together.

  Boy oh boy, I was feeling awkward.

  Ugh.

  I got up from leaning against Harrison with a pitiful groan and some creaks and cracks from the bones in my legs. It was dark in the compartment, but not pitch black. Like dusk, when the sun sets but the moon is still on her way.

  It was a huge space. Again, I didn’t know much about trains. I wasn’t sure if the sizes of the cars varied or not, either way, I could see hobos in here, or something.

  Did hobos still exist? Well, obviously not now, but before…

  The floor was damp under my boots, as well as the air. It had a half-rainy, half-musky type of smell that only grew the farther you went back.

  There was loud bang to my right. A particularly dedicated Crazy, rammed itself full force into the wall. Needless to say, I jumped.

  “Find anything?”

  This time, I didn't jump, even when the voice sounded right behind me. I almost mentally scolded myself for not paying attention to my surroundings, especially since our means of escape has sound been taken out of the equation, but then I remembered that this entire box was surrounded with layers upon layers of always shrieking Crazy’s. I could barely hear the sounds I was making, let alone someone else's.

  “Not yet, James. You?”

  The others were back at the door, on the other end of the car, talking about something. Their words were lost on their way over here, swallowed by the waves of shrill, animalistic shrieks from outside. I almost got out my flashlight… but… I think it might be getting lighter?

  “I'm just following what you're doing.” He laughed, “It seems to be working lately.”

  Me? Following me?? Dude, that is NOT a good idea. I repeat: abort mission.

  I didn't respond.

  We were coming up to the cargo of this car— wooden crates and cardboard boxes of stuff.

  Wow. I was really against this whole “leading” thing.

  “Should… we… open them?” It sucked that it sounded like he was asking me for permission. I did not want to be the leader here. I didn't want anyone following me in any kind of way. If you wanted to know something about anything, then ask my mom. She had all of the answers, not me.

  “Let’s tell…” I trailed off after I turned around and looked towards the rest of the group, only to see a giant hole in the ceiling.

  It was more of a flap. Some old, rusted away metal couldn't handle the weight of the rainwater that pooled there for who knows how long, so it caved in, releasing that water into the car, which explained the smell.

  It also gave us a means of escape without informing the entire state of Montana of this decision, if the crumbling roof could hold our weight, that is.

  James started sliding one of the crates towards the hole, making a loud, horrible scraping sound.

  A lot of incoherent, unrelated noises and sounds came out of my mouth before I managed to say, “Don't.”

  The Crazy’s got even rowdier.

  “Just… just hang on, okay?” I hurried back to the group.

  They were all sitting along the back wall together, in the opposite corner from the one contaminated with vomit. They were all looking over each other, making sure that no injury was too bad, and asking each other how they didn't see this coming. How they were fooled by Jude, if that even was his real name.

  It probably wasn't.

  As I approached, I heard Mom blame herself. That she should've been more wary of the newcomers since she was the leader.

&
nbsp; I'd like to think she still believed in humanity, and all of that. I guess that was over now.

  “Hey, you guys might wanna come and see this.”

  And get away from this smell.

  I felt as if I had been slapped by it.

  Clyde was the first one up. He turned around to help his sister, but the second one up, Harrison, was already on it.

  They stopped, and faced each other. I could practically see their nostrils flaring in the dark and the testosterone coming from the two.

  Oh boy.

  Chapter 34: Nosebleed

  The cardboard boxes contained… I didn’t even want to say it. Let's just say it was a bunch of adult stuff. I mean, I know, that technically I'm an adult, but the things were, like, adult adult stuff. Definitely not useful for the Apocalypse. Definitely awkward. I didn't make eye contact with anyone after the first box was spilled, so I didn't know how the others reacted.

  Now, don't quote me on this, but I swear I heard a bit of foil shift, or crinkle, and then the faint sound of a backpack closing.

  I said nothing, but my face get really warm, and I was grateful for the dim lighting.

  The others agreed with me when it came to not making too much noise. We needed to wait until the Crazies, or Sticks, or Swisses, or whatevers, calmed down and lost interest.

  Hours and hours of silent waiting. Everyone was spaced out as far as possible from each other. I was sitting atop the crates, back to the wall, my eyes on the gap in the ceiling, watching the birds, the clouds, and the sun go by.

  My bat was at the ready, gripped loosely in my hand on the crate next to me. All I could think about was a scene from an old zombie movie, where the zombies blindly stumbled over each other in order to get a meal, and ended up climbing a wall with each other. With every bang and crash and shriek my heart thumped painfully in my chest and my head. This amount of fear, paranoia, and anxiety could not be good for my heart. Or, for any other part of my body, for that matter.

  “Can I sit here?”

  I jumped and dropped my bat at James’s voice, not hearing him limp over. Luckily, my bat was already on a flat surface, so gravity didn't really do anything there. It was dark, much darker than before, so I couldn't see whether or not he cracked a smile or not. My guess would be yes, he did.

  “No.” I kept a straight face for approximately half a second before I, too, cracked a smile. “Yeah, sure.”

  He struggled to climb the stacks of crates until he got to my level. I moved my bat onto my lap to make room for him. I guess that was to be expected when a bullet tears a chunk of flesh from your body. With Vi, she more or less just got grazed. But James… James was straight up shot. Yeah, it could've been a lot worse and not on his side, where nothing is, but still…

  I didn't say anything.

  “What are you thinking, Ophelia?”

  I scrunched up my face. I'd never really been too fond of my name, and that didn't change with the apocalypse. People, for some reason, had been resorting to that instead of my first initial, which is what others used to call me. It’s not just this group, but my family too. They'd slipped here and there.

  He sat down and let his legs hang over the edge of the crate so close in the limited space that our legs almost touched.

  We both stared straight ahead at the hole. Or, at least that was what I was looking at. James wasn't looking at me, so that was what I assumed he was looking at. It was too dark to see anything else. I almost said something, like that I was glad that I didn't have to pee, with the group deciding about two hours ago that the puke side of the car would also be the bathroom side. I was the one who proposed the idea hours ago, and the first of many to use it.

  “Whether or not the Crazy's could get in through that.” I nodded my head towards the hole that my eyes haven't left, answering his question.

  The constant paranoia and watching was tiring.

  “I… I didn't even think about that. I mean, they couldn't, right?”

  Yeah. Like I had all the answers.

  “Who knows. Better safe than sorry.”

  It was exhausting. Being safe consumed so, so much energy. Like, being alive was cool and all, but with each blink, my eyes stayed closed for longer and longer, a fraction of a second added each time.

  James didn't respond. Someone was using the other side of the car. Someone else shifted and coughed. My stomach growled like an unknown beast that I did not want the pleasure of knowing. Another Crazy rammed itself into the side of the car, then moved on. They all seemed to have moved on from the car. From the shrieking and echoes of them banging into other cars, I could conclude that they hadn’t moved on from the area.

  Someone suddenly sprung up and bolted to the back of the car. Two sets of footsteps followed. There was gagging and puking, and my money was on Addeline. Clyde and Harrison were probably the ones who went after her. I mean, Addeline was Clyde's sister, so I got that, but Harrison… I had a feeling about Harrison’s motives, but I wasn't sure about it.

  I didn’t want to assume anything.

  “I got this.” A male, non-southern voice growled from the other side of the car.

  And if I could hear it, then it was too loud.

  “Back off.” Another male, this time southern, voice threatened. There was a pat sound, and someone stumbled, making too much noise. Any noise was too much noise.

  “Hey!” I hissed, ticked off, tired, and unbelievably cranky. I slid off of the crates and onto the floor, making a surprisingly small amount of noise, but the sudden movement caused me to stumble. Going from sitting for so long to standing made me dizzy, the hole in the ceiling blurring for a moment. My ears rung. I closed my eyes, and then opened them and went forward.

  I was just gonna go ahead and hope that that whole thing had passed for good, because the dizziness seemed to subside, more or less.

  There was another muffled pat and someone else stumbled back, this one hitting the wall of the car, the bang echoing throughout the car, just like the pounding of my heart.

  “Guys! Knock it off! Unless you want them to hear you!” I hissed again with more panic in my voice as I crossed the car.

  A bang sounded from outside. The shriek that followed was so loud that I almost doubted that there was a wall separating us.

  “Why, you…” Clyde voice was closer than I thought.

  The smell also ripened, letting me know that I was close to the back wall.

  And then, I wasn't walking in the pitch black anymore. Something in the dark had come after me and smacked me square in the nose.

  A combination of a cry of pain and a cry of surprise came out of my mouth as I stumbled back. I didn't get very far, though, because I fell back into someone. They caught me and switched on a flashlight.

  “What is going on here!” My mother hissed, furious, her voice in my ear and her hands gripping my arms.

  Addeline was leaning against the wall, holding her stomach, looking tired and sickly. Harrison was standing between the brother and sister, looking angry, but mostly guilty. And Clyde…

  Clyde was standing in front of me, his arm frozen in midair, his hand closed in a fist where my face just was. He didn't just look guilty— he looked horrified. He looked like he just accidentally kicked a puppy.

  “O… oh, my goodness. Ophelia…”

  Mom turned me around and the light was on me. “Tilt your head back. There we go.”

  I felt dizzy and crappy. Again. But, I did what she said, and also touched my hand to my face, when it came back, it showed blood.

  Mom turned her attention to the other three, very, very angry. The kind of angry that only a mother can get, and only a mother can understand.

  “You three.” She had to take a breath. She was so angry. “You three— separate! Right now.”

  Both Clyde and Harrison uttered short protests, but Mom wasn't having any of it.

  “No. Now!” She hissed so loudly that it almost wasn't a hiss, but something spoken at normal volume.

/>   Addeline plopped down where she stood, only a couple feet away from the puke pile, feeling too sick to move or argue. Harrison took up the spot on the opposite wall, only down a few feet, which was probably as close to someone else as Mom would allow. And Clyde…

  Clyde just stood there, speechless. He’d since put his arm down, but a drop or two of blood remained on his knuckles. My blood.

  Mom put an arm around my shoulders and corralled me away from the madness.

  Clyde took a step towards us. “Ophel—“

  “No!” Mom, with her other hand, which held the flashlight, pointed a finger at him, telling him to stay put. The light was directed at Clyde’s face and caused the southerner to flinch and close his eyes.

  He didn't take another step.

  Which, if I was being honest, was fine with me.

  Mom gently got the twins to sit up, because they were using my backpack for a pillow. Vi held the flashlight as Mom rummaged through the pockets until she found some tissues. She crumpled them into a wad and had me hold it against my nose while she took another one and wiped up the mess. By that time, the blood had dripped over my lips, down my chin, and onto my flannel.

  Addeline started throwing up again. Mom looked from me, to the shadows of the back of the car, and back. I nodded, and she stood, took the light from Vi and turned it off, the headed for the back of the car. Unfortunately, her path was blocked by a certain someone who was still standing in the same place we’d left him. From the sounds of it, I think she pushed him aside and angrily whispered something to him, but I couldn't tell what it was.

  Clyde's footsteps got closer while Mom's got farther away, and for the first time, I wondered what was wrong with Addeline?

  Of course, one of the first questions I asked myself was about infection. I felt like this had been going on for too long for it to be the virus, if it even was a virus. People seemed to turn from human to Crazy fairly quickly, and this has been going on since at least Wisconsin.

  Instead of going to sit by the opposite wall, like I thought he would, Clyde broke the rules and came over to the Astor siblings. It sounded like he knelt in front of Viola.