Ophelia

by Briana Rain

  I walked closer to James and put my hands on his shoulders, hoping to help Addeline with keeping James’s hands away from Harrison's neck. There was nothing we could do now.

  “Let me go!” He struggled against Addeline and I.

  The more he pushed against me, the more I pulled him back, away from Harrison. Clyde and Mom stepped forward, but I shook my head to both of them.

  “James!” I yanked his shoulders, not enough to move him anywhere, but enough to plant him on his ass, and turned him to the side. I got in front of him, and put my hands on his shoulders. Addeline let go of his hands. Snot dripped from his nose.

  “James. Harrison…” A weird sound came out of my mouth, and I had to take a deep breath, “Harrison was bit. H—“

  “No!”

  “He was! He was bit in the neck. If it was his leg or something, then we could try something. But we can't.”

  “Stop it. St—“

  “He's gone. You have to say goodbye. You have to accept it, and say goodbye, or else it'll eat you alive.” I let go of his shoulders, and stood up, thinking of all of those that I didn't get to say goodbye to. “You have to say goodbye.”

  I looked over, and Mom was crying, silently, so that hopefully, no one but herself would notice. I assumed that she was thinking of how she didn't get to say goodbye either.

  In the other direction, Addeline had moved away from Harrison, and Clyde knelt next to her, and held her as she cried.

  James was murmuring something to his brother, his voice finally quiet. Then he screamed his brother's name.

  I turned around and saw that James was shaking his brother. His shoulders, then his head. He hit his chest, trying but not knowing how to do compressions.

  But Harrison did not respond. His eyes just pointed blankly at the sky, his features empty, and unresponsive.

  He was gone.

  Chapter 41: Sedated

  It took all three of us to drag James away. For a few minutes, we really did try to do it while he was conscious. We really did.

  But his mourning attracted Crazies, and only Clyde had his shovel.

  After they were taken care of, Clyde apologized profusely to James before punching him. The blow to the head knocked him out, and I could tell that none of us liked it, Clyde especially.

  The three of us dragged him to the creek, and let him lay in it. This part was shallow, only a couple of inches deep. The cold water didn't wake him up, which I was grateful for, and washed away his brother's blood from his clothes.

  I sat in the water a few more feet towards the middle, mostly because I was conscious and not laying down. I, too, had blood on my hands. And my jeans. And… well, I fell in the stuff, so it was mostly everywhere.

  A gunshot rang out, interrupting the sounds of sniffling and the background noises of the animals nearby. I jumped, and almost screamed. Addeline did end up screaming, but only for a second.

  Her and Clyde were on the other side of James, sitting by the rocky shoreline. Was it still called a shoreline if there was no sand?

  A few moments passed before Mom emerged from the trees, gun in hand. Clyde stood up to meet her, while Addeline and I remained exactly where we were. Mom handed him some things, Harrison's gun being one of them.

  She observed the rest of the scene before her. With Addeline, crouched at the creeks edge. James, knocked out and laying unconscious in the water. And me, her daughter, sitting in half a foot of water, taking a soapless bath.

  “I need to go and check on the twins.” She looked at me, then turned, and handed Clyde my bat, which I didn't see tucked under her arm, and walked away.

  “I should go with her.” Addeline stood up quickly, and started after my mother, who may or may not have heard her, and waited inside the tree line. I couldn't see that far, or that good, so I didn't know.

  “Ads.”

  She paused, and turned around to face her little brother, two or three yards away. He took his rifle off his shoulder, and threw it to her with a nod. She caught it effortlessly, returning the nod once it was secured on her shoulder. The strap was too big, like when I first met Clyde.

  Then she disappeared into the trees.

  Chapter 42: Meat

  Clyde and I sat on the shore(?) of the creek, with James to the side. Dragging him out of the water took all I had, personally, and I couldn't imagine having to move him any further.

  So we waited. I didn't say anything to him, and he didn't say anything to me. I didn't even look at him, and I was too tired to keep my eyes opened the entire time, though I never fell asleep. I desperately wanted to lay down, but on the off chance that a Crazy or two had been attracted this way from the gunshot earlier, I wanted to be prepared. It reminded me of the first night after I met Clyde, where we both stayed up to keep watch, and I yelled at him to get some sleep. Well, now, it made sense for both of us to be awake. On our toes.

  We were so close. So close to our goal. The destination that brought the Astors halfway across the country.

  We couldn’t mess up now. We couldn’t fall apart.

  We could do that once we get there.

  James groaned and interrupted my miserable thought process. I looked over and checked to see if he was actually waking up or just making a noise in his unconscious state.

  Turns out, it was the former.

  “What the… what the hell, Clyde…” On the ground, James clutched the side of his head with both of his hands and groaned again.

  Well, at least he was awake.

  Thankful that he was awake, I stood up, ready to get back to the others. Unfortunately, standing up quickly after sitting for who knows how long, made me extraordinarily dizzy. I would've fallen right back down if Clyde hadn't caught me.

  “You good?” He asked quietly, letting go when I nodded. He then went to crouch next to James.

  “I didn't like it as much as you did, maybe even more. And I'm sorry.” Clyde sounded the saddest that I'd ever heard him sound as he reached his hand out. His hand served as not only an offer to help James up, but an offer to accept the apology. To peace, even if it was only between the two, and nothing else in their lives.

  James stumbled more than I did after Clyde helped him up. I wished that I knew anything about concussions, because the two of us probably had them. Could you have more than one concussion? See? This was the type of thing I wish I knew.

  The three of us took the long way back, the way that Harrison and I came, because the short way back would've taken us past said person. I held Clyde's shovel, and Clyde held James.

  The smoke from the fire inside our cabin was unnoticeable, because I wasn't even aware that there was a fire until I was inside. It crackled and glowed, filling the small room with warmth, which I longed for after waiting and walking around soaked. James was probably even colder.

  There was something cooking on the fire, skewed on a stick that was balanced on two bags on either side of the it, one of them being mine. I would put money on the meat being procured by Addeline, because I knew for a fact that my mother did not possess any skills or knowledge on that topic.

  I clicked the light on my watch, to see what time it was and just how long we were out there, but to no avail. The cracks had spread to the point of covering the whole face, making the watch unreadable, and useless.

  I was still going to keep it, though.

  In the corner, Vi and Luck kept themselves busy with something. Like an arts and crafts project that they almost looked done with. I didn’t know. At least they were busy, quiet, and working together.

  I went back to the back of the cabin where I first sat, and collapsed. I didn't have the energy to lower myself down to the ground, and ended up making a thud.

  My shoes were wet and squishy. I wouldn't have been surprised if I took my boots off and there was a layer of some sort of mold, fungus, or unknown disease waiting for me. Even with that thought, I still took off my shoes and socks, and laid them out near the fire, James did the same on the other si
de of the fire. He had, understandably, starting crying again.

  Addeline took the meat off of the fire after a few minutes. In those few minutes, I did nothing but lay down. Mom called the twins over from their corner. They obeyed without hesitation or delay and dropped their… whatever it was, and came over to sit by the fire, next to me.

  It took a lot, I mean a ton of energy here, to sit up. My arm hurt. My entire head and face hurt. And my knees hurt. I just wanted some sleep, man.

  Addeline held the Meat-On-A-Stick for another minute, making it sure it was cooked by using the cleanest knife we had, which was Lucky’s pocket knife, and then made sure it was cooled by waving the stick around in the air, and fanning it with her hand.

  Then, the skinned meat was passed around, not in order of who was sitting where, but of who needed it the most. James and the twins were first, though, none ate much. I was next, and… the meat was… well, it was meat. It was edible.

  After me, Addeline and Mom took the… honestly I had no idea what animal it was. It was puzzling. They each ate about as much as my siblings and James combined before passing it to Clyde, who finished it off.

  My level of exhaustion before eating was nothing compared to what it was now, with a warm meal in my stomach.

  I grabbed my pack, and curled up in my corner, happy that the wind outside had picked up. Between that, and the crackling of the fire, James’s sobs were dampened, even though it was just a bit.

  Lucky and Vi came over with their art and crafts and laid down between Mom and I. It turned out to be a small “blanket”, crudely weaved together with tall, untamed grass and vines and such with a simple pattern, like those potholders Mom made as a kid that were still kept around the house.

  I wasn't even going to question them, as to when, or where, they got the plants. Mom could do that.

  Because, for now, I was so tired that I was forgetting my own name. I didn't fight it, mostly because I didn't have the energy to, and let it embrace me.

  Within five minutes, which is almost record time, I thankfully fell asleep.

  Chapter 43: Firewood

  “Hey. Ophelia. Hey, wake up.”

  Noooooooo

  “Ophelia, c’mon, please.”

  Arrrrrrrrhgggggg

  I opened my sleep filled eyes to find Clyde crouching by my legs, reaching over me to shake my shoulder. He had his hat on. It was pulled down to cover his ears and I realized I could see my breath.

  I sat up and cracked my neck, back, knees, and almost every other joint. Clyde grimaced.

  “Come on.” He nodded to the side, and stood up. He walked away, expecting me to follow.

  I had half a mind not to, but after a few seconds of mentally debating it, and the fact that I had to pee and my bladder wouldn’t allow for any further slumber until it was dealt with, I picked up my bat, and followed him out of the shack.

  He was a few yards outside of the doorway, moving dirt around with the end of his shovel as he waited for me.

  Even though I didn't like being woken up, and was still groggy, for the first time in days, I felt like I had some energy. Like I could protect the others, instead of them protecting me. I was ready to step up to the plate for the rest of the mission, even if that proved to be for only a day or two.

  “We need more firewood.” Clyde said. “And breakfast.”

  “Should we tell—“

  “I left a note. We're good.”

  And with that, we started walking, going the same direction that Clyde had gone the day before with his sister.

  The cold helped to wake me up. Every breath I exhaled hung in the frigid air for a brief moment before disappearing. I wished that I still had all of those layers I’d packed that first day. They were all gone now. From either being used up as bandages for wounds or disappearing with the Jeep.

  I buttoned up the rest of my flannel.

  The two of us didn't say anything as we trekked through the woods, which was fine by me.

  I didn't look at him. I was afraid that if I did, then he would be looking at me, and then I would get distracted.

  After several minutes, the silence began to feel awkward, so I was glad that we’d found the creek. It had widened significantly from where Harrison and I first found it, and was much deeper over here. Dare I say, I think that I could get away with calling this a river!

  Without a word, Clyde took off his coat, then his hat, then his shirt.

  I felt awkward, and turned around to let Clyde do… whatever he was doing.

  “Oh! Yeah, I um… I'm taking off my clothes because I'm going in the water, by the way.”

  No shit.

  “I kinda already figured that out.”

  It was dawn, so the sun wasn’t up yet, and I was freezing. I could only imagine what he was feeling, or would soon feel.

  “Maybe I'll have some luck with a fish.” He muttered, probably to himself. Then I heard the distinct sound of a zipper being unzipped behind me, and then cloth being tossed to the ground.

  There was a long silence filled only with the river splashing just a tad more that usual behind me.

  Standing there like a complete idiot, I remembered that I had to pee.

  “Hey, I gotta go… use the… bathroom?”

  About halfway through my sentence, I realized that bathroom was the word I usually used, and it sounded weird considering that there wasn’t really one available.

  “Don't go too far!” Clyde called from the middle of the river.

  I didn't bother to turn around, or give him a snarky remark. I mean, it was sound advice.

  “And see if you can find anything for firewood!” He added.

  Well, duh.

  As it turns out, the whole peeing in the middle of the woods thing wasn't as difficult as I’d thought a few weeks ago. The difficult part was the paranoia, the bugs, and how unsanitary I felt afterwards. But the actual going was a breeze.

  I took my time heading back to Clyde, scouring the forest floor for semi-dry pieces of wood. At first, I tried to carry the pieces in my arms, but with the whole being shot thing, I opted to use my flannel as a bag. I mean, I knew that me and my arm would be alright, but anytime something touched or bumped the wound, it hurt, and I didn't like hurt.

  My bat was also in this “bag”, because holding this thing took two hands. I was glad that I was alone in these woods, with no one to see me waddling strangely and struggling to lift this.

  There was a downed tree to the left, and although it was in the opposite direction of where I’d planned to go, some of the pieces near the stump actually looked dry.

  A miracle.

  I quickly waddled over to the wood, because with this, I would have all that I could carry. Unfortunately, between me and the dry wood, emerged a rare, quiet Crazy from the dense trees.

  It hadn't spotted me, but I sure as hell spotted it.

  Crap crap crap crap crap crap crap crap.

  This situation, like most things in my life, did not go in my favor. I tried to discreetly angle myself so that a tree was between the two of us, so I could hide and the infected could go on it's way. Alas, my movement caught its eye, and it's head snapped towards me, its eyes locking on its next meal: me.

  I grabbed my bat, or rather, grappled for it after dropping my flannel, and everything in it. I suppose it would've been cool if I would've grabbed the bat, dropped the rest of the things, and pulled it out like a sword out of a sheath…

  But if I'd learned anything from my eighteen plus years of living, it was that I was not remotely, or even slightly, cool.

  I clumsily grabbed my bat from the dirt floor in time to hear that ear piercing shriek that I'd gotten all too familiar with just yards away from me. I swung up my bat, having absolutely no idea how low the probability of my speed out-speeding the speed of this Crazy. I didn't scream. If I was going down, I wasn't taking anyone with me.

  It connected mostly with its arm, and a tad with its shoulder. I felt hot, disgusting liquid splatte
r unevenly across my face as we threw each other in opposite directions. Well, it threw me a few feet to the side, while my bat and I just barely redirected its course.

  Is this what happened to Harrison? Was he just caught off guard?

  I landed on some dirt, which was a relief, because I knew that I could have just as easily broken my spine into hundreds of pieces by landing against a tree. Now, I knew I couldn't scream. The liquid, it being blood, or drool, had dripped down my face, and passed my lips. If I were to open my mouth, then whatever it was would enter my body, and that… that just wouldn't be good.

  The Crazy didn't have as much luck as I did with trees. I looked up just in time to see it crack its skull against a tree. It collapsed.

  The Crazy, that is. Not the tree. It was a sturdy tree.

  No way…

  I blinked a few times, not fully trusting the convenience of the situation. I mean, come on.

  I stood up, slowly, so I didn’t activate its motion sensors, or, something like that.

  I approached the limp, infected body with unbelievable caution, and at first I was going to poke it, to nudge it with the edge of my bat to confirm or deny my suspicions. In the same minute that I thought that thought, I labeled it as idiotic, and just smashed its head in with my purple softball bat.

  Better to be safe, than sorry.

  Chapter 44: Snap

  “Took you long enough.” Clyde scoffed as I approached, kneeling in the river, and gutting a fish. Another already prepared one laid on the rock next to him.

  “Gee, look at all that firewood Ophelia! Great job!” I imitated his southern accent very poorly, not because I couldn't do a southern accent, but because I wanted to make a point, and he was being rude. “Oh, thank you Clyde! And look at you! Two fish! Did you have any trouble when I was gone?” Now I was back to my voice, only a tad more cheery than reality called for. There was at least two that he had to take care of, given the unmoving bodies limp on the shore that weren’t there when I left. “One or two Sticks, nothing me, Clyde Salmons, couldn't— great scot! Ophelia, your arm’s bleeding. Again!”