VOLT: YA Fantasy

by Dawn Brazil

  For what feels like a century, no one speaks. “Words haven’t been invented to make me give up on you, ” Joe says. “I’ll follow you into the darkness and fight like hell to pull you out every time. But you have to fight, too.”

  I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. I can’t formulate a response to that. When did Joe and I get to this point? When did our loathing turn into something else?

  “I’m with Joe. I’ll never leave you, either. As long as we’re here in VOLT, we're here together,” Ferris says. “Except, I think we’d better leave here. This place is disturbing. And the smell…”

  Joe sets his attention back to our decomposing audience. “Let’s leave quietly. No sudden moves, and don’t look back at them. I’d hate to have to beat someone senseless, since they look like they might fall apart at the slightest touch.”

  I scoot across the seat to stand. Once I’m up, the girl at the table beside us grabs my wrist. She yanks it over in her hand and says, “Why are you leaving? You should be here with us. Where are your marks?”

  Joe rushes to push her hand away. I stare at her, dumbfounded. How did she know? And where are my scars? They’re gone. I look at my wrist, astounded I hadn’t noticed this before.

  “You’re missing a set of scars, too,” the girl says to Joe. He sucks in a breath that sounds startled. I glance at his wrists and there are no scars. He shoves her away and pushes me toward the exit.

  Ferris steps to the exit first. He looks out the window with his back to us and the tavern full of crazy zombies. The stench has intensified and I’m gasping for air. I close my eyes to gain composure. A hand caress the small of my back and I know it’s Joe by the flurry of my abdomen. I glance up at him. He mouths, “It’s okay.” He grabs my hand and Ferris grabs the other. “We have each other.”

  The room erupts into laughter.

  The three of us spin around, grabbing for each other to face this unknown new threat.

  Chapter 39

  When we look back, the room falls silent. Then with calculated precision, everyone lifts their right arms. They point their crooked and decomposing index fingers at us. Everyone’s mouths fall open, but nothing comes out.

  Just as I’m about to turn, a low hum engulfs the restaurant.

  “Why are they making that noise?” Ferris yells. He grips my hand tighter. Without warning, the hum ceases. Everyone stands with one sweeping motion—mouths open and fingers still pointing toward us.

  “You’re one of us. Come back,” the large crowd spews. We each take a step backwards, not taking our eyes from them. Another “come back” emanates from them. Then they fall silent. Still standing, pointing with their mouths agape.

  We continue our backward movements out. Ferris heaves himself across the threshold first. I’m inching closer to him when the entire room shouts, “Join us!” They recite this crazy mantra repeatedly.

  Joe, with one quick gesture, snatches me up and runs from the building. His quick movement breaks the bond between Ferris and me, causing Ferris to stumble. I look behind me to see where he lands. He is rear down on the ground, beside the entrance to the tavern.

  I whip my head up as a shadow falls across him. One of the zombie cooking-weapon-toting guys who had been standing in the tavern is directly over Ferris. A large butcher’s knife swings back and forth in his hand. “Stop, Joe!” I scream. I point to the man dressed in faded black. Ferris doesn’t peer up to see who’s after him. He jumps to his feet and lurches his body forward to run to Joe and me. “Hide in the alley,” Joe says pushing me in that direction.

  I don’t move. He shakes his head and rushes back to Ferris, who’s moving in slow motion. The zombie guy standing in the entrance wears a maniacal expression. “You should stay with us. You belong with us more than them,” he says. He lifts the blade into the air and brings it down toward Ferris' side. Ferris jumps to the right as the blade nearly slices into him. The man lifts the blade again, ready to finish him off.

  “I don’t want to die. I change my mind,” Ferris shrieks. I slam my hands over my ears to drown out Ferris' sobs. San Diego! San Diego! San Diego!

  Joe charges, knocking the guy to the ground and shaking the blade loose from his grip.

  He kicks the guy in the stomach and he and Ferris run toward me. I never moved to the alleyway. I don’t take orders well.

  The kids in the restaurant continue their pleas for us to join them. My skin prickles at the idea of sitting in that restaurant, decaying. But then again, some of us are decaying on the inside and no one can tell. Sometimes we can’t tell our own selves.

  The thing that attacked Joe pushes itself to a sitting position on the ground. Its entire body shakes like it’s trying to recover from Joe’s assault. Slowly, it rises to a standing position. It glances down like it’s looking for something and my eyes follow after it. The knife. It bends and collects the knife from the dirt. He glances up with the cleaver held high. Before I can take my next breath, he charges.

  Zombies don’t run, at least not in the movies. They shuffle to and fro until they reach their prey. This thing's limbs flap rapidly as it jerks its body at a speed I’ve never seen in any zombie movies.

  “Run!” I yell. “Run! He’s up and he’s coming for you!”

  Joe stops and thrusts his arm straight out. There’s a sickening thud as the zombie smashes into Joe’s outstretched limb and collapses to his knees. Joe doesn’t rush away. Instead, he pounces on it and wrestles it to the ground. Like lightening, he ducks a thrust of the knife at his head. He lands an elbow into its side. The knife clatters to the ground. Joe slams his fist into its rotting, peeling face. A gaping indent shows on the side where his hand smashed into it. The zombie goes down. With a sweep of its decomposing arm, it thrashes itself forward again. Why won’t this thing stay down?

  Joe slumps. His knees buckle and he falls to the ground in front of the zombie.

  The night air is brisk and a chill falls all around. Yet, my body is heated like I’ve been basking in the sun all day. Something’s wrong. What the Houston happened?

  “We have to help him, Ferris.” I spring from my hidden position. Ferris follows but doesn’t say a word. As I reach Joe, he makes a gurgling noise with the back of his throat, then collapses on the ground beside zombie guy. They both lay motionless on the debris-littered pavement. Ferris grabs the hatch to the restaurant and holds it closed. I guess he’s worried about the others coming out and ambushing us.

  Zombie guy sits up first. A few heartbeats run away from my chest. The knife scattered a few feet away on the ground. With yellow-tinged eyes and jaundice looing skin, it stares at me. I glare back.

  I dive to the ground for the knife. Zombie guy’s rotting fingers stretch for it at the same time. I crash to the cement as I scramble to reach the knife first. Pain slams into me at the impact. Still, I push forward.

  My hand wraps around the knife before his decaying hand touches it. The blade slips in my grip with its weight. How was he able to wield this thing, with his flesh so fragile? My contemplation is short. The zombie wrenches me forward, trying to pull me down to the ground with it.

  Thrusting the blade into the air, I slam it down with all the strength I can muster into the zombie's abdomen. I pull the knife loose and wait, ready to hit him again, if necessary. He slumps back to the ground. Motionless for two, three… ten seconds. Relieved, I lower my hand.

  I stare at his unmoving body for a few seconds more. As I attempt to lift off of him, he seizes my hair and yanks me back. He twists it firmly around his decomposing hand. “Oww!” I yell. Pain reverberates down my spine.

  It snatches my head back so far, I can’t see. I swing the knife wildly in front of me. It connects with something solid. I shove with all my might. It is not going to take another person I care about. It can’t have them. I keep driving the knife into its soft flesh.

  I’m not going to lose another person. I refuse to watch people I care about die while I do nothing. “You can’t have them,
VOLT!” I shout.

  I plummet to the ground as Zombie guy evaporates into a pile of dust.

  Succumbed by fatigue and repulsed by my own actions, the blade tumbles from my grip and clatters to the ground. I peer at Joe, splayed out on the ground beside me. His eyes are open and he peers back with a vacant expression. I did what I had to do for him. For my sometimes friend. Or for my… or, whatever. I’m not even certain what to think.

  Is everyone as confused as I am?

  “Joe,” I stammer, staring down at him. Nothing. He still watches straight ahead. “We have to go before they come after us.” I pull on his arm to move him. Still nothing.

  I squat beside him, grab him by the shirt, and try to heave him up. I’m sure this is what lifting a stove feels like.

  “Ferris,” I yell. His eyes are glued to the hatch he’s holding closed, with his scrawny body pressed against it. “Ferris, stop holding that Denver hatch and come help me. If they were coming out, they would’ve already. We need to get Joe up.” Ferris releases his death grip on the hatch and races to my side.

  He continues to glance over at the hatch as he makes his way to me. “What’s wrong with him?” Ferris asks, peering down at him.

  “I don’t know, but we can’t sit here and figure it out,” I say. “Here, pull him on this side and I’ll pull on the other side.” We each grab a handful of his shirt in our hands and pull with all our might.

  Joe’s body lifts from the ground and into a sitting position. Still, his eyes hold the same blank appearance.

  “Joe!” I yell into his face. “Say something. We can’t carry you.” He’s blank, save for the vacant stare of his caramel eyes.

  “We have to leave him.”

  “We’re not leaving him. Are you out of your mind?” I shriek.

  “Yes. And we have to leave him. We’ll come back with help. If we don’t, we’ll all die here.”

  “I don’t care if I die. I’m not leaving him here.” My hands are slippery as I plant them on each side of his face, crouching down until our eyes are parallel. I draw my hand back and smack his face as hard as I can. It stings my hand and I rub the soreness away on my leg. Still, nothing. I slap him again. This time I hit him so hard the back of my hand sweeps across the other side of his face. His head bobs back, then suddenly his arms swing wide before he engulfs me, knocking Ferris to the ground.

  I’m elated and wrap my arms around his torso. His grip tightens. “Too tight. Let up a little.” I squirm from the embrace, but his hold around me tightens like a vise grip. My breath is ragged. “Joe it’s me… Stop… you’re hurting me.”

  He looks at me with hate-filled eyes. My back spasms in pain. “Joe,” I cry out again. “Stop. It’s me… Sam.”

  “You’re not going to hurt her,” he whispers into my ear. “Not again. Not ever.”

  Chapter 40

  I have no idea what he’s talking about, or who he thinks I am. I know what I need to do and I don’t like it. Bending forward, I wrap my mouth around his shirt where his collar is. I clamp my teeth down hard on him. He shakes the bite off like an insect is chomping on him.

  At the same time, Ferris wakes from his stupor, and attempts to pry Joe’s fingers from my back. Joe lifts his right hand and shoves Ferris to the ground like a ragdoll. While his hand is off my back, I punch him in the mouth with my closed fist. Florida! That hurt like Houston.

  “What the hell?” Joe yells. His arm falls away from my side and his brown eyes are wide with surprise. “Why’d you hit me?” He rubs at his jaw, which now has a trickle of blood on it. I cradle my hand, which feels like I've stuck it in a meat grinder.

  “You were trying to kill her.” Ferris rubs a large red splotch on his elbow where he fell. “And me.”

  For a few seconds, none of us speak. Joe burst out laughing. “Everything in VOLT has been trying to kill us and we manage to get away but we end up hurting each other. That’s definitely some shit that could only happen to me.” When he puts it that way, I can rather see the humor in our situation.

  We have no time to laugh, though.

  The earth shifts beneath us. “Shit,” Joe stammers.

  “Why? Really. Now?” I stagger to my feet. “The universe is a fickle Boston.”

  Joe stands to his feet but grabs at his left shoulder. I duck my head, embarrassed about biting him.

  He fixes me with a stare for a second like he knows. “We gotta go,” he says.

  We break into a mad dash across the street, then around a corner. Joe limps. And the MegaHex’s vibrations get closer.

  I pull forward and take the lead. Even with my wound, I find my running legs. I dash through two alleyways and stop at a third. Joe limps and winces every couple steps. I grab him and pull him against the brick wall of a closed restaurant. Sweat drips from his hair and his shirt is drenched. “Let me check you out.”

  “I’m fine. Let’s go.” He tries to cut around me but I shuffle in front of him and push him back against the wall.

  “No, you’re not. Stop being an Alaska and let me help you.” I shove his hand back as he tries to push me away. I lift his dirt-smeared shirt. Good God. Heat invades my face and I’m sure I’m beet red like Ferris is so often.

  Joe has washboard abs and is cut in all the places that used to make me drool. I swallow and lift his shirt further until I spy what’s causing him so much pain. A dark red wound is slashed into his shoulder. I couldn’t have done that with my teeth. Blade guy must have nicked him.

  “Aww, whose blood is that?” Ferris stumbles away from us.

  Joe wrenches away from me, but I pull him back to continue my investigation. “The guy from the restaurant cut you.” I run my hand up his left torso to make sure there are no other cuts. My fingers locate a slash, right below his armpit. I soften my touch as I feel for the length of the cut. It’s small, but I’m not sure how deep.

  “San Diego, Joe. I’ve got to get this cleaned. Take this shirt off—it’s covered in dirt. I don’t want it to get infected.”

  “I said I’m okay. Stop.”

  “Stop being an idiot. This could get infected.” I square my jaw, ready for this fight.

  “We don’t have time for this shit. Let’s go before this thing squashes us.”

  “At least take the damn dirty shirt off before I punch you in the freaking face again.”

  Both Joe and Ferris stare at me like I turned bottom-half unicorn. Joe pulls the shirt over his head and drops it to the ground. He stares at me like he’s waiting for me to tell him what to do.

  “Now let’s go.” I take the lead again. I have no idea where I’m going. They pointed north and said The End was that way. So, I’m going north.

  Ferris, Joe, and the MegaHex shuffle behind me. The faster I run, the further away the vibrations are. I keep my head low and continue my sprint.

  “Wait, Sam,” Ferris yells. I spin around. Joe is hunched at the waist and holding his knees. Ferris bites his lip.

  “I’m winded. Can’t catch my breath right.” Joe bends and rests his hands on his knees. “Maybe we should rest for a few hours.” I glance around. The street is deserted. A few closed restaurants, a gas station, and a frothy shop are all I see.

  “I know,” Ferris screeches. “There’s a small motel around this corner. He points straight ahead.

  “Lead the way.” Joe and I follow him. I steal glances at Joe every couple seconds because it’s almost a shock to see him in distress.

  Joe fixes me with a complicated expression. “Stop staring at me, Psycho MD.”

  “My bad.” I smile at his new name for me but don’t look back at him.

  The hotel is around a few corners and hidden by a gathering of large evergreens that release a smell so reminiscent of Christmas I contemplate turning around.

  Christmas was Chris’ favorite holiday.

  Ferris goes into the office and comes out quick with a key. “How did you do that with no Zygos?” I ask, following him to the room.

  “I told him
I’m 100% Dud and we had someone hurt with us. He only had one room available and he gave it to us for free for one night.”

  Ferris opens the hatch and flips the light on in the space. It’s not much—a TV, small table and chairs for two, a faded loveseat in the corner, and one king-sized bed. I grunt my disapproval but don’t say anything else.

  I slam the hatch shut and Ferris closes the pale green curtains. I slide to the floor where I stand. My back is butted against the frame and I slip my eyes closed. “Sam, I should look at your leg.”

  My eyes pop open. Maybe because my adrenaline was pumping, but I forgot I was hurt, too. Ferris grabs his pack from where he tossed it on the floor and goes into the head. I cross the room to the pine table and chairs. The room has a stale smell to it, like the linens were left in the washer too long.

  I grab a chair and drag it across the faded avocado carpet to the loveseat. “Alright, I’m ready.” I plop down. The inner springs of the sofa bite into my rear, but it’s more comfortable than the floor. I push the chair in front of me and prop my leg up. Joe squats beside me on the sofa and eases the bandage off. His face flashes with a grimace of pain but he says nothing. He uses a beige towel he must have snagged from the head before Ferris got in, and a little water to clean the wound.

  “Looks good. We can leave the bandage off for a while.”

  “Okay, my turn.” I push the chair to the side and turn to him.

  “Your turn for what?”

  “Let me clean your wounds.”

  “I’m good. I can do it.” He stands and places the chair back at the table with the other.

  “You’re not good. You need me to clean that thing before it gets infected.”

  He laughs. “I don’t need you to do anything. I can take care of myself.”

  I take a deep breath so my words aren’t too loud. It’s a struggle. “Why is it okay for you to help us but we can’t help you?”

  “I don’t need help.” His eyes fall the head like he’s ready to get in there.