by Fitch, E. M.
“I—”
“Seriously Jack,” Kaylee interrupted, glancing at him quickly before turning to get to her feet; his frown was dimly lit by the rising moon. “You’re leaving soon with Quinton, I know that. Don’t promise me anything when you can’t possibly follow through.”
Kaylee went to wipe her jeans clean but winced as her left hand pulsed a reminder to her. She left the grime alone, figuring there was no amount of brushing that might get it off. Instead she brought her good hand to her face and was surprised to find her tears had dried.
When had that happened?
“We should get back,” came Jack’s stoic reply. Kaylee thought he was going to say more but then they both froze, alert as the sound of their names were called from somewhere not too far away.
~
“Kay!” Andrew’s voice was hoarse as he called out. He broke into a run in her direction, reaching her in moments. She grimaced as he caught her up in a hug, her side pulsing uncomfortably, but she gripped him tightly, happy to have someone she knew she could hold onto. “Sorry, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m okay,” she breathed and she heard him pull back a sob. He was shaking and he pulled her tighter against him. She couldn’t help the moan that snuck past her lips.
“I thought you said you were okay,” Andrew accused, leaning back and holding Kaylee just by the shoulders, his eyes raking over her frame.
“She’s alright,” Jack said, strolling up to them, his hand raised in acknowledgement to Quinton who was still making his way towards the group.
“She can answer for herself!” Andrew shouted, tucking Kaylee back under his arm. The level of stress lent an edge to his voice that sounded very close to anger.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Kaylee said, extracting herself from Andrew’s now suffocating hold and grabbing his hand. “I’m sore and bruised and my hand’s broken but it’s not important. Andrew, what happened? Where’s…” She couldn’t force her lips to frame that last word and the tears she thought she had stopped started again. The relief she felt upon seeing Andrew was ebbing and in its’ place a crushing sense of what was to come, the knowledge, the confirmation that her sister was forever lost to her.
“She’s in the firehouse. In Anna’s room.” His voice was soft and hesitant; he swallowed thickly.
“You should let her see for herself.” Quinton’s voice was a deep, soothing rumble that lacked intonation. Without another word, Andrew turned, pulling Kaylee along. She limped beside him, terrified.
It was all too much. The run from the firehouse had seemed so short this afternoon, when she had been pulled from the infected by Jack. His hand had been her lifeline, his arms her comfort. And now Andrew was tugging her along and the distance felt like miles. Her lungs just refused to fill with air and her steps felt boggy and slow.
And somehow, it was not slow enough. Some recess of her mind wanted her to stall, to limp a little bit more, to pause just a tad longer between steps.
Because her world would change when she saw what her sister had become.
The night was very clear, the silence absolute. Every footstep echoed clearly against the cold pavement, each breath that was drawn whispered undeniably through the air. The blood pound in Kaylee’s temples and her throat hurt. She dragged her sleeve over her eyes to clear them of tears and was shocked to find she had stopped crying again without knowing it.
Andrew was walking slightly ahead of her, pulling her along gently, and Jack came to walk beside her. His fingers brushed tentatively against her broken ones and Kaylee felt a sting of regret that she couldn’t grip his hand like she had done so often for the past several hours. Her gaze flit to him and he was watching her. His expression didn’t change. He wasn’t placating or pitying; there was no showy sense of understanding.
Because he couldn’t understand, not really…
He just watched her and his head dipped into a slow nod. And she understood. She had asked him not to promise her things and here he was, ignoring that request already. Because in his silent nod there was a promise: I’ll be there for you.
Before she wanted it to be, the fire station loomed in front of her. Backlit by the moon, the structure seemed dark and foreboding. Kaylee’s eyes traveled to where she knew Anna’s window was but the glass was blacked out with dark coverings.
“You found them.” Kaylee had never heard Bill sound so relieved. She wanted to smile at him but she couldn’t remember how to rearrange her features to produce one. Instead she blinked, staring blankly beyond him into the garage and to the rope ladder that was lowered from the second floor. It hung limply against the fireman’s pole.
“They’re a bit banged up,” Quinton said, pushing past Bill into the garage and tugging on the rope ladder. “But yeah, we found them.”
The word they stuck in Kaylee’s mind. Was Jack hurt? Had she not noticed?
Quinton put the bottom rung under his boot and held it there, gesturing for Andrew to climb up. Andrew turned to look at Kaylee; her eyes had drifted up to the circular opening. She didn’t know what she expected to see, Anna or her father smiling in reassurance. She knew, however, what she wouldn’t see.
Emma.
“Can you climb?” he asked, watching her with worry lining his face.
“I’m fine,” she answered through numb lips. “I’ll be fine.”
“Come on Andrew, Bill,” Quinton called out, shaking the ladder. “Best to let her see. Climb up so you can help her,” he added, sensing Andrew’s hesitation.
“I’ll be right behind you,” Jack whispered as she watched Bill and then Andrew disappear through the floor. She didn’t answer; she didn’t need to. Quinton’s face was expressionless as she gripped the worn rope. Her left hand shot slivers of pain up her arm but she ignored it, looping her arm over the rung and pulling herself up. Jack was close behind, and he stayed there through her struggle up the ladder, his shoulder brushing against the backs of her legs until Andrew and Bill reached down and pulled her up.
“Bill?” Nick’s voice rang strangled from the stairwell and Kaylee could hear the sound of descending footsteps.
“They got her, Nick.”
And then Kaylee was truly crushed as her father caught her up in his arms. His embrace was terrifying, not in strength or force, but in how desperate it was. Nick was sobbing openly into Kaylee’s shoulder, gripping her as though she had come back from the dead. But Kaylee couldn’t find the means to cry now, she couldn’t sob or laugh or relax or breakdown or comfort. Her impatience was growing because there was something in the way everyone kept telling her she ‘just had to see’ that wasn’t quite right.
“I’m sorry Dad,” were the words she found herself saying, realizing as she said them that she had broken her promise to him. She hadn’t kept Emma safe, hadn’t watched over her properly. The prickling of tears stung her eyes but she blinked before they could form.
“Kay, honey, it’s okay,” he said, pulling back to look her over.
But it wasn’t, it couldn’t ever be okay again.
“She’s not infected.”
The room filled with that awful ringing kind of silence as Kaylee stared up into her father’s desperate face. His eyes were bloodshot and wildly hopeful. She took a step back, fearful.
Because he had gone crazy, he must have. This is what everyone was telling her she had to see. Emma was bitten. Kaylee knew she was. And so she must be infected. Because every one of them, the thousands, millions, of people who were bitten before Emma had been infected. And the man who bit her had blood festering in the sores of his mouth. She had seen them. There was no chance she escaped.
“We don’t know that, Nick.” Anna descended the stairs. Her voice was soft and careful, a lifeline thrown through stormy waters.
“I don’t understand,” Jack cut through, coming up behind Kaylee and gripping her shoulders. She was glad he did, it felt as though she would fall over. “Explain, please.”
“Emma was bitten. But
you know that,” Anna began, her voice hushed. Kaylee saw Andrew shoot her a reassuring look before he snuck off towards the stairs; she shook her head and refocused on Anna, attempting to absorb every confusing word. “She was bitten but she’s showing no signs of infection.”
“No signs…” Kaylee trailed off, the words forced out over a heavy tongue and through dry lips.
“She’s not twitching or trembling, no yellowing of the corneas, no breathing rate deceleration, her memory and speech capacities appear intact,” Quinton listed off.
“And she’s still awake,” Bill added.
“But—”
“We don’t know yet what it means,” Anna interrupted Kaylee’s confused start. “It could mean that it progresses slower in some people.”
“Or,” Nick interrupted, that sick look of hope still flashing in his eyes, “or it could mean she’s immune. She could have some genetic fluke, some biological protection. She could save us all.”
“Nick, don’t…” Anna trailed off at the fierce look in Nick’s eyes as he directed his glare towards her. “It could mean that, yes,” she confirmed in a small voice.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Quinton said calmly, leveling his gaze at Kaylee’s father. “She’s safe for now. We’ll have to wait and see.”
Nick looked as though he was about to argue but Kaylee interrupted. “I want to see her.”
The group started and turned their gaze on her. It was Quinton that answered. “You know where she is.”
Kaylee nodded and headed for the stairs, she noticed Quinton grab Jack’s arm as he made to follow her. No one else even attempted.
Andrew was by the cot positioned in the center of the room and though Kaylee knew she was there, she couldn’t see Emma around him. A single lantern hissed and cracked as it burned on the bedside table. Andrew looked over his shoulder as he heard her approach and moved to the side.
Emma burst into tears as the sight of her sister. Kaylee ran directly to her, eyes raking over her body. She was clean, the dirt and grime washed from her by somebody, most likely Anna. Her clothes were changed and her hair tied back, one leg of her sweatpants rolled to her knee to expose two crescent shape wounds that marked her calf. The reddened gashes were jagged at the edges, though they appeared clean, and they came so close together they almost formed a complete circle.
“You’re okay,” Emma sobbed. “I’m so… happy you’re okay.” She hiccuped and bit her lip through her tears, turning her head into her shoulder. Andrew raised a hand to wipe her tears from her cheek and it was then that Kaylee noticed her arms and legs were bound to the sides of the cot.
“Why is she tied up?” Kaylee demanded, her jaw tight with anger even as her eyes spilled tears of relief.
“Dad and Quinton insisted,” Andrew explained in a soft, placating voice. “Just until we’re sure she’s okay.”
Kaylee knelt near the head of her sister’s restraint. She fingered the rough gauze that bound her wrist. “Em, I’m so sorry,” she cried, losing what little control she had left and burying her face into her sister’s shoulder. “I should have gotten to you, should have—” but she broke off as her tears threatened to choke her. She drew a ragged breath and let her tears fall unto her sister’s prone body.
“Don’t Kay,” Emma whispered. “I would have been eaten alive if it weren’t for you.” Kaylee shuddered and drew back. “You and Jack. Where is he? Is he alright?”
“He’s,” Kaylee paused to look behind her, instinctively searching for Andrew as she went to answer.
“Andrew left,” Emma supplied, watching Kaylee carefully. Kaylee met her leveled gaze; she hadn’t notice Andrew slip out.
“Jack’s okay. Hurt some too, but not too badly I don’t think,” Kaylee said in a hushed tone. “He saved me. I don’t think I would have made it if…”
“But you did,” Emma whispered, tears still sparkling on her eyelashes. Kaylee nodded, attempting a small smile that faltered as Emma continued in a small voice. “I don’t know what any of this means, Kay. I don’t understand.” She pulled at her restraints and sighed, letting her head fall heavily unto her pillow.
“Dad thinks you’re immune—”
“And Anna thinks I’m just slow to develop it,” Emma interrupted, her eyes trained on the cracked and dusty ceiling. “Or maybe I won’t have any of the symptoms, but I’ll be a carrier. Maybe I could infect you right now, maybe my saliva and blood is already changed. I keep waiting, you know, for the first twitch.” She paused and flexed her fingers, straining her neck to look down at them.
“Tell me what happened?” Kaylee asked, tearing her eyes from Emma’s perfectly still hand and searching her face. “When you got back in.”
“When Andrew dragged me back in, you mean,” Emma laughed a cold, hard laugh. She didn’t sound like herself and Kaylee felt a lump nearly close her throat at the sound.
“I was pretty much a mess,” she continued, blinking her eyes back to the ceiling and clenching her fist. “Dad and Andrew held me down and Quinton was sliding down the pole with a gun in his hand. Dad went crazy, lunging at Quinton and knocking him to the ground. Turns out, all Quinton was trying to do was clear the way for you guys.”
“Yeah, thank goodness he did,” Kaylee answered, remembering the gunshots.
“That was mostly Anna. She was on the roof,” Emma clarified. “Bill had followed Quinton and was trying to pull Dad off. Andrew was holding me down and I was…”
“What?” Kaylee asked in a whisper, reaching out to grab Emma’s hand. Her fingers were cool but not cold. Kaylee squeezed in relief. Emma pulled her gaze from the ceiling to look Kaylee in the eye.
“I was screaming for Quinton to shoot me.”
Kaylee felt as though her chest caved in. “Em, you can’t—”
“I don’t want to be one of those things, Kay.”
“They’re sick,” Kaylee said, attempting reassurance.
“They’re murderers,” was Emma’s cold reply. Her features hardened and yet she held Kaylee’s gaze, forcing her to face this awful truth with her.
“Mom’s not a murderer.”
“Mom’s gone, Kaylee. That’s not Mom. Because Mom couldn’t kill people like that thing is. If this infection does take hold, I’ll be gone too.” She spoke with such surety, such clarity, that Kaylee felt her breath catch. But, truthfully, wasn’t Kaylee thinking that exact thing when she was making that awful walk from the abandoned factory to here? Wasn’t she thinking she had lost her only sister?
“I love you Emma and I’m sorry,” Kaylee whispered, because there wasn’t much left to say but she needed her sister to know that one constant remained and would never change.
“Love you too, Kay,” Emma said, smiling softly and squeezing her fingers before returning her gaze to the ceiling. Kaylee rest her head against Emma’s shoulder and let her eyes slide shut, the exhaustion finally claiming her.
Chapter Eleven
Kaylee pulled the folds of the overly large, black hooded sweatshirt more firmly against her body as the late summer breeze blew strands of blonde hair past her face. Her wrist brace caught, just briefly in the cuff. She pulled it free but not before it could pulse with the dull pain that was still her waking companion. She had awoken, for the third morning in a row, awkwardly perched by her sister’s bed. Her neck was stiff from the angle at which it rest on Emma’s arm and her knees were still achy from their prolonged contact with the floor in Anna’s room. But for the first time in three mornings, she didn’t wake frozen. A very familiar black, zippered sweatshirt was draped over her shoulders.
The day was very clear, the sun high, and for the first time in a long time Kaylee let her eyes drift past the buildings shining in the sunlight, past the glowing ribbons of highway, and over the rooftops of the small homes that collected in scattered fragments to form what was once called the suburbs. And far, far away, past the prison her city had become, the grass was emerald green. Trees dotted the horizon; rivers flowed li
ke silver threads, knotting, she was sure, with stronger currents miles and miles away as they traveled out to sea.
She inhaled clean, fresh air, letting her eyes drift close and the sun warm her face as her breath escaped.
Emma had not yet shown any signs of infection. Other than the sickening bite mark with the jagged edges, she was also relatively free from injury. Kaylee still wasn’t sure how she had managed it, how she survived a second story fall with only a few miscellaneous bruises, one broken finger, and a small bump on her head while Kaylee fell just into a basement and hadn’t been able to walk right since. Her hip was still popping and achy. Anna had ruled out a fracture, said she thought it was just a good bruise. But she still had four or five small fractures in her hand. The wrist brace that Anna put on Kaylee helped. Not as much as the pain medication, but Kaylee couldn’t stand the way it made her feel. She had never been drunk, but she thought it must feel something like that. Her vision got hazy and her head spun, she felt oddly clumsy and slightly out of her mind. It was a scary way to feel even on the best of days; with the constant threat of the infected, it was downright terrifying. Emma said she didn’t need them at all, and refused to take them when Anna held them near her lips.
But regardless of how well Emma was doing, how bright and cheerful her demeanor remained (though Kaylee did, at times, think it seemed a bit forced) she was still tied down. Bill and Quinton had been adamant that, with the exception of guarded bathroom breaks, it remains that way. So far, Anna has grit her teeth and allowed it; though it’s quite obvious she doesn’t think the restraints are necessary any longer.
Andrew and Kaylee continued to be Emma’s near constant entertainment. Most stopped by, chat or offer a game or two, but Andrew’s there every moment he’s not working or sleeping and Kaylee tops even that by sleeping practically on top of her sister. But even with all that, Emma still swears she’s memorized the location of every crack and chip in the ceiling.
