The Dead and Dying Embers | Teen Ink

The Dead and Dying Embers

May 29, 2011
By paigeforeman GOLD, Washington, District of Columbia
More by this author
paigeforeman GOLD, Washington, District Of Columbia
18 articles 6 photos 43 comments

Favorite Quote:
"It's kind of fun to do the impossible!"-Walt Disney
"It's not the years in your life that count, it's the life in your years."- Abraham Lincoln
"Be the change you wish to see in the world."-Gandhi
"The truth is out there."-The X-Files


I never thought that anything was going to happen on December 21, 2012, but I was wrong. I’m looking down at the aftermath of the Apocalypse, animals that are supposed to be people, but they are just sacks of dead skin and bone that have this eternal hunger for my flesh. My skin tingles at the thought of dead teeth sinking into my skin. Maybe that is the reason I survived the Apocalypse. I hate the idea of succumbing to the disease, succumbing to them.

Maybe though, I’m still alive because of my best friend Allison, who is still sound asleep inside our apartment. I have no idea how she can sleep until about ten in the morning in a world of so much death. I always wake up at around six I would guess, no matter how hard I try to go back to sleep, I can’t. Allison always tells me to enjoy life while we still have it since we might get bitten any day. We can now sleep in since there is no more electricity for our alarm clocks that used to tell us to get up at the exact same time every day.

I miss my alarm clock. I miss my annoying little brother who was bitten by one of them in his sleep. I miss my parents that I used to argue with about cleaning my room. That all happened on the exact same day. The creeper that got my brother was my next door neighbor and she came in at exactly 7:02 AM. I was sleeping in my brother’s room in the abandoned apartment building we now live in, hoping I could protect him. I had my bow and arrow in my hand, which was always there and still is when I’m sleeping. I woke to my brother’s screams. I jumped out of my bed and loaded my bow. I headed over to his bed to ask him where the creeper was, but once I got there; I knew where it was, right by my brother’s side biting into his jugular vein. I shot the creeper that bit into Bryant with an arrow. However, my brother came back as a creeper in minutes.

Something died inside of me. I think it was my heart that died, but for some reason it was still beating. I shot an arrow into Bryant’s head, not even caring that he used to be my annoying little brother that I loved so much. What shocked me the most though, was that I didn’t even cry.

I cried when my parents died though. I think I cried for all of the people I lost when they died. My brother, friends, uncles, cousins, everyone. I was out scavenging for food with my parents and I hadn’t even told them that Bryant was dead; they just thought he was asleep. Now that I think about it, Bryant did look like he was asleep, I pulled his blanket up to his chin, it hid the bite mark and the white sheets that turned scarlet. There was a family of creepers stuck in a house we broke into while scavenging and it took us by surprise. The dead family was in the kitchen, but we couldn’t see them at first. Mom and Dad went in first and they were attacked by two kids, not much older than seven I would guess. They were bitten on their legs and then later they were bitten in the neck by the mother and father. I couldn’t stand to shoot another loved one, let alone another creeper so I ran out of the house and then I sprinted back home, tears dropping onto the pavement.

Since I was crying, I thought my heart came back to life, but I discovered it just came back like the creepers. So I killed my heart again to ensure that it would never come back. Now though, I want my heart back. After my parents’ death, I convinced myself that they would come back to get me, that they would get their revenge on me for leaving them behind by infecting me in my sleep. I still believe it and Allison tells me that sometimes I sleep with one eye open at night, as if I’m watching for them.

“Skye,” Allison calls to me, sleep still in her voice. “What are you doing?” She sits down on the splintered, wooden chair next to me on the balcony.

“Nothing,” I reply, staring out at the ruins of Albuquerque. I used to love this city, but now that love has been replaced by hate. This place used to radiate warmth, but now it’s a black hole, sucking all of my feelings away and replacing them with nothing.

“You haven’t changed yet,” Allison notices. “Who knows though, maybe we’ll find the old Skye somewhere in this godforsaken world,” she pulls out a hairbrush and she begins to brush her long brown hair into a ponytail. Her hair is still shiny and lush, unlike my ratty, dirty blonde hair. It’s long, but I haven’t bothered to take care of it ever since the virus broke out. It’s dead just like my heart, just like the creepers. Who knows? Maybe the rest of my being will be the next to succumb to the virus.

“I don’t know if we’ll ever find her again,” I answer. “How do you manage staying the same after all of this?” I throw out my hands, gesturing at what’s left of the world.

“Because my question isn’t where, it’s why,” she tells me and hands the brush over to me before going back inside to change into her scavenging clothes. I just hold the old brush in my hand, thinking about what she said. I brush it off by telling myself that she must be depressed today. Even if Allison’s personality is stable, she’s bipolar. I run the brush though my hair a few times before going back to find Allison. Once I get inside, Allison is putting on her signature white dress.

“Hey, we need to go scavenging today,” I tell her.

“Okay. For what?”

“Food. Plus, you need more meds.”

“I don’t need more meds.”

I sigh, “Allison, you need them. Otherwise, you won’t be able to cope,” I cross my arms and she turns around, her brown hair swishing with the motion.

“I need to cope?” she chuckles. “Skye, you need to cope,” she goes over to the weapons cabinet, a heavy, metal box with a combination lock. I remember how hard it was to drag that thing all the way here. We needed it though, it was a time when people were desperate for weapons. Now, most people live in the fenced in part of the city, where it’s safe from the creepers. However, the dead are easier to deal with than humans. One time Allison and I went there to check it out and we would have been gang raped if I hadn’t had my bow and arrows. There’s another way I know my heart had died, I didn’t even flinch when I killed that guy coming straight for Allison. “I’m ready,” Allison says. I snap out of the memory.

“Alright. Let’s go,” we go out our door and lock it before going down the stairs. We have to go fast since the creepers will smell us coming down and will gather around our exit. Allison and I fly down the stairs, trying to make our footsteps quiet. Soon, we reach the gate and go through it, shutting it behind us. The creepers start to sense us so they start towards us, limping. Their fingers are bloody from pushing against the brick building our apartment is housed in. “Storm drain Allison,” I order her calmly. After six months of scavenging with death always lumbering after you, you get used it. I have never gotten used to when the creepers’ cold, waxy fingers brush against your skin. Allison squeezes through the opening of the storm drain at the end of our street, fear in her eyes. She has never gotten used to the creepers. She cares if she dies, I do not. The only reason I am still alive is because of Allison.

“I’m down!” she calls up to me. I climb into the darkness, just before the sound of moaning reaches my ears. I feel around for the flashlight box that we keep down here and soon, I feel cold metal. I open the latches and pull out the flashlight that we use when we’re in the drains. I turn it on and I put two extra batteries as well as the map of the drains I found in the city hall. Allison pulls out a city map from her backpack.

“Find a neighborhood we haven’t scavenged,” I order her. She obeys and locates a neighborhood not far from here. I scan the map of the drains, trying to find the best way to get there. Left, left, right, left. Directions run through my head. “Alright,” I fold up the map. “Found the way,” we head down the drain system, which is damp and stuffy. It doesn’t rain much in Albuquerque, but if it looks like it’s going to rain, I go out into the drain to get the stuff so it doesn’t get washed away. Often, I go out into the drains for nothing. As we walk, Allison talks about her past boyfriends and how she wonders if they turned. I listen, but I don’t say much back. Allison knows that I listen; she always tells me that I may be quiet, but I listen loud.

“Do you wonder if somebody you liked turned?” Allison asks. I pause for a second but I resume walking.

“No,” I lie. There is someone though, Shane, my friend that I’ve always hoped that someday he might be more than a friend. That part of me died along with my heart. He lived in Arizona, which was hit pretty hard by the virus. We walk in silence until we come to the drain where the neighborhood is. I climb up to scope out the area and find the nearest house. It’s always sad doing this. You always hope to find a green lawn that is tended to, but I know for sure that there will never be another green lawn. There are no creepers on the street, so there must not be another living person around. I sweep the area another time to make sure before I climb out. Allison climbs out after me and we try to decide which house to hit first.

“Eenie meenie miney moe!” Allison points to a plain brick house with a large Cottonwood tree in front. We go over and I shake the knob, hoping it’s open and it’s not. I groan since I hate knocking down doors, it draws creepers.

“Back up Allison,” I tell her, but she’s already clear away from me. She knows the routine by now. I take a deep breath before raising my leg and kicking the door as hard as I can. Yeouch! I scream in my head. I can’t show pain though, not even in front of Allison. Plus, it draws the creepers. I look inside the house before walking in. Sometimes creepers can be right outside the door. I load my bow and walk in, checking every corner. Allison is behind me, holding her handgun. If a creeper shows up though, I usually shoot it since it doesn’t create noise. I never even considered using a gun though; I’ve hated them even before the virus broke out. We make it to the living room without a scratch.

“You get the bathrooms and bedrooms and I get the kitchen?” Allison asks. I nod. She heads off to the kitchen, gun raised and I go to the bathroom. The door to the bathroom is open and I don’t see a creeper. I drop my backpack to the floor so I can load it. I open the cupboard under the sink and I find toilet paper.

“Jackpot!” I whisper. When people leave their house, they usually take their toilet paper so it’s a luxury for Allison and me. I also take the first aid supplies and any sort of pills I can find. I also take the shampoo and conditioner. When I go into a bedroom, I find a comforter so I take that as well. My backpack is full so I go to the kitchen to look for Allison. I don’t see her at first. “Allison?” I find her staring at a knife. “What are you doing?” I go over to her and try to take the knife from her hands, but she holds it firm.

“I often wonder what it would be like to do it one, last time,” she says, staring out the window. “However, I can’t allow myself to do it again,” I take the knife from her and I let it fall to the floor. Allison used to cut herself when she was depressed. Sometimes she would do it even when she was manic, she said it made her see more clearly. Her backpack is on the ground, filled to the brim with canned food and various foods that haven’t expired yet.

“Come on Allison, let’s go in the backyard, maybe there’ll be a swing or something.”

“Yeah, let’s go,” we always like to swing; it makes us feel like kids again. This new world made us grow up too fast. We don’t bother looking before entering the backyard, which could be a deadly mistake. We are standing in the middle of the grass, looking for a playground when I hear the moans. Creepers gather around us. Looking at them reminds me of “Go, Dog, Go,” there are fat and thin creepers, young creepers and old creepers, black creepers and white creepers. There’s a good amount of them.

“Uh, Sk-sk-kye,” Allison stutters. They block the door where we came through so that’s not an option. I look around for a way to escape and I find a gate. We could make it if we’re fast. I sprint to the gate and Allison follows. So do the creepers, they chase after us at full speed. We both go through the gate and Allison slams it behind us. The creepers slam against the metal gate and we just stand there panting. Then I hear glass shattering. Creepers are coming through the windows of houses and they’re shuffling after us across brown lawns. Some are already surrounding the house. This is not unusual. Sometimes neighborhoods are crawling with creepers.

“Run!” I yell at Allison. We sprint down the street and creepers reach for us, some of them scratching us, making blood run down our arms. The creepers go into a frenzy so they run even faster to get to our blood. Soon, I see a house where there are no creepers, but it has blood smeared all over it. If we die in that house, at least we won’t die from getting infected. “Go to that house!” I scream. Once we reach it, I wobble the knob, but it’s locked so I try to kick it down. That didn’t work either. The windows are boarded up so we can’t get in that way. I feel helpless. Then, the door opens. Allison goes in first and then I follow.

“Thanks,” I tell the stranger while panting.

“No problem,” a deep voice says. Next, I feel a sharp pain in my head and then everything goes black.

I never really had a home. I was always jumping from one foster family to another and I never stayed long at any of them. The longest was a year. At first I made sure to be the best boy ever, but I found out it didn’t really make a difference. I started getting in trouble at school and eventually with the police.

“You’re so pathetic,” I tell myself. I never had a home then and even now, after the end of the world, I still can’t find one. I could have had any house I wanted, even the mansion two streets over, but I picked this one since it seemed like the kind of house a family would live in. I don’t even know what a home feels like, but somehow I know what it doesn’t feel like. This. I get out of bed and go to the kitchen to make my breakfast, frosted flakes with water. All the milk expired some time ago and I have no place to keep a cow. I wouldn’t even know where to find one in Albuquerque.

I run my hands through my brown hair. I trim it myself so it’s pretty uneven, but it’s not like Supercuts is open. Once I’m finished with breakfast, I go to the exercise room where the dad must have worked out everyday. I run on the treadmill for an hour, sweat soaking through my dirty undershirt and making my lungs burn. I can stop running though; it’s for my own good. If my luck runs out here and I have to run away from the dead, I’ll be able to run a marathon to get away from them. After running, I do pull ups on the metal bar hanging above the door.

When I’m done doing my pull ups, I sit down on the couch and read. Reading is the only thing that keeps me from going insane. If I can’t go outside in real life, I can go outside in fake worlds. I’ll practically read anything except zombie stories, they remind me too much of what the world has become. Right now I’m reading, “Of Mice and Men,” by John whatever. It’s a classic and I usually hate classics, but this one isn’t bad. Plus, it’s the only book in this house that I haven’t read. I need to go scavenging for more books soon. I need more food too. Right now I’m on the last page so I read it slowly, trying to soak in the author’s last words. When I finish it, I groan, disappointed with George.

I hear the shattering of glass, which makes me jump to my feet and go towards the window. What’s going on? The creepers leave me alone since my house is covered in creeper guts. It’s a gross way to keep them away, but it works. I de-board my window and I see creepers jumping out of windows, heading for something. I look around more and I see two girls running down the street. One girl is brunette and is wearing a white dress with tennis shoes. The other is blonde and her getup reminds me of Katniss Everdeen from, “The Hunger Games.” They both look scared out of their minds. I board up the window again, but soon I hear a bang at my door. I assume it’s those girls, but I thought the blood all over the house would keep away the living as well. I grab my bat and I open the door. The girls tumble in, panting and I shut the door behind me.

“Thanks,” Katniss pants.

“No problem,” I reply, and then I hit both of them in the head with my baseball bat, making them both unconscious. Even though I don’t think they would hurt me, I can’t take any chances. I grab two chairs from the dining room and I tie them to the chairs with rope I found when I went out scavenging last month. It takes a while for them to wake up, but they do. Katniss wakes up first.

“What’s going on?” she groans, looking like she’s in pain. “Who are you?”

“My name’s Mitchell,” I tell her. “You?”

“Why would I tell you?” I scowl, but then I hear a groan.

“Ouch! My head hurts,” the brown-haired girl laments. “Skye? Where are you?” Ah, so that’s Katniss’s name, Skye.

“I’m right here, but it looks like we’re being held hostage,” Skye informs her friend.

“Not hostage,” I say. “You’re just being held so I don’t get hurt.”

“Before you might not have gotten hurt, but now? Ooh, you’re in trouble,” Skye hisses at me. She glares at me, her ratty, blonde hair covering her face.

“Skye! If you ever want to get out of your chair, don’t threaten the guy holding us hostage!” Skye’s friend scolds her.

“Shut up Allison!” Now I know the other girl’s name. I try to talk to Allison, she seems to be the most rational.

“If your friend agrees to have her hands tied behind her back, I’ll untie you and we can talk on the couch,” I suggest.

“Ooh, I’m sure all you want to do is talk,” Skye says. Allison kicks her.

“Yes, Skye agrees,” I’m not sure it’s safe to let Skye go even with her hands tied and I’m right. Immediately she does a fireman kick and knocks me down, but I get up and pin her down. I bring her kicking and screaming to the couch, both her legs and arms tied. I set her down and Allison sits right next to her. I sit down in the white rocking chair across from the couch. Skye calms down, knowing there’s no escape.

“Where are my bow and arrows?” Sky asks succinctly.

“I had to take them away. When you seem safe, I’ll give them back,” I tell her. She glares at me once again.

Allison starts to speak. “So who are you?”

“I’m Mitchell,” I answer.

“That’s nice, but I think what she meant is what are you doing here alone and why is your house covered in blood?” Skye asks bluntly.

“Lovely isn’t she?” I say. Allison nods.

“Oh just answer the question!”

“I like to be alone and my house is covered in creeper guts so they’ll stay away from the house,” I answer.

“See? He’s mental!” Skye exclaims.

“No, he’s smart,” Allison retorts. “Continue.”

“That’s all you really need to know. Who are you guys?” I inquire.

“It’s a little dangerous for us in the fenced in part of Albuquerque so we decided to live in the infected part. We can survive out here, after all, I have Skye,” she gestures to her friend, who is quiet now.

“I can see how she might be useful, even creepers would scurry away from her,” I say.

“I would watch what you’re saying if I were you,” I scoot away from Skye.

“Let me see if it’s safe for you guys to head home,” I get up and open the window. The streets are still crawling with creepers. “Not without help.”

“We don’t need your help,” Skye assures me.

“I’m sure you don’t, but it would be easier if you had some of my supplies and an extra person to back you up.”

“Wait a minute,” Skye starts. “What kind of supplies?”

“Clothes with creeper on it, guns. That sort of stuff,” I answer.

“That’s sick. You actually chopped up creeper and put it on clothes?”

“Yeah. That way, the creepers think you’re one of them,” Allison says for me. “Smart.”

“Smart to you, sick to me.”

“Shut up. You’re just mad that you didn’t think of it,” Allison scolds her. Skye falls silent. I smirk, Skye scowls. I look at Allison.

“I’ll go get the stuff. Do you think you’ll be fine with Mrs. Hyde here?” I ask Allison. She laughs.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” I go out to the clothesline in my backyard to get the clothes. I get three trench coats soaked in creeper blood. Sometimes creepers find out that you’re human after a while so I bring three with me on scavenger trips. My feet crunch on dry grass as I cross the backyard. I open the sliding glass door and I go back to the girls to hand them the trench coats. Allison holds hers up in disgust while Skye just lets it lie in her lap. I thought she would have been the one grossed out by it, but I guess I was wrong.

“Skye, if I untie you, will you hurt me?” I ask her calmly. She thinks for a moment.

“No,” I untie the ropes around her wrists and feet and she surprisingly stays calm. I tell them to put on the coats and Allison hesitantly puts hers on while Skye puts it on with ease.

“Skye, I’ll get your weapon in a second. Allison, do you need a gun?” I check. Allison pulls out a handgun. I go to the closet to fetch Skye’s bow and arrows as well as pull out my rifle. I hand Skye her stuff and she nods at me, as if saying thank you. She looks into my eyes and I hold her gaze, looking into her clear, blue eyes that have nothing but anger in them. Still, I think I see a trace of something more, sadness maybe? She looks down, breaking my hold on her. “Try to go fast, these can wear out after a while,” I inform them. I go over to the door and open it to let them out. “Ladies first.”

“Coward,” Skye insults me.

“Mean,” I retort lamely.

“Gee, is coming up with insults a talent of yours?” I ignore that.

“Allison, do you know the way back to your home?”

“Yep,” she says.

“Lead the way,” I tell her. Soon though, Skye pushes her way to the front of the group and starts to lead. Pushy. We wind our way though the streets for about an hour or so before I stop Skye. “You’re lost aren’t you?”

“No,” she starts to walk again. Allison catches up with her and snatches a paper from her pocket. She reads as she walks.

“Yes,” Allison announces. “We’re lost. You missed a turn.”

“Perfect,” Skye sighs. “And do you know what else I realized?”

“What?” Allison asks.

“Mitchell here,” she shoves me. “Stole our backpacks,” she cocks up an eyebrow. Oh yeah, I think. I put their backpacks in the closet too.

“I didn’t steal your backpacks, and you can fight with me all you want later, but that’s the least of our worries now. Creepers could discover us. Get us un-lost.”

“That’s not even a word,” Skye says snottily.

“Whatever,” I reply. “Just look at the freaking map.”

“We’re on Irving right now so if we go to Coors and go back from there, we should be able to get there before dark,” Allison figures. Sky folds up the map and we turn around, heading towards Coors. Quite a few creepers are walking around and one of them has no legs so he just drags himself around, his belly bleeding from the pavement scraping his skin. I occasionally bump into creepers, which makes me tense up since I think maybe they’ll discover me. They never do though, at least not yet.

“Do you hear that?” Skye asks me, suddenly even more aware of her surroundings than before. I stop to listen and I hear it. I look behind me to find some of the creepers shuffling towards us, some of them moaning.

“Run,” I tell the girls.

“Run,” says Mitchell and we start to jog. Other creepers are starting to notice so we jog even faster with each creeper that starts coming after us. I almost want to slow down and ask the creepers why the virus was unleashed, but I know that the only answer I’ll get is teeth tearing though my flesh. We run up the ramp leading to Paseo and the creepers slow down, having a hard time climbing up the ramp. Soon though, there might get to be so many that they start to clamber over each other to get to us. I unconsciously start to run faster, my dress fluttering as I move further up the ramp.

“I don’t know if a bridge is the best place to be,” Skye mentions, huffing and puffing beside Mitchell.

“Well, where is the best place to be?” Mitchell asks, looking to Skye for an answer. She stays silent. “That’s what I thought,” Skye scowls, but she doesn’t say anything back. It seems that the situation we are in right now has made her behave. We are at the top of the ramp right now, several roads running beneath us. There are cars stopped all around the road from when Albuquerque was quarantined and people were desperately trying to get out. Everybody turned into creepers within a day or so.

“Mitchell, creepers are crawling all over this bridge,” Skye tells him. Mitchell looks around, taking in the line of cars and the creepers emerging from their hiding places on the bridge. We stop for a second so that Skye and Mitchell can come up with a plan. I hear a clunk from the red car in front of me and I see Mitchell on top of it. His brown eyes seem to gleam gold in the setting sun. Skye clambers up after him and I follow. I look behind me to see if the group of creepers are still chasing after us and sure enough, they are still trying to climb the ramp. They are relentless, they will never give up. I wonder what it is about our flesh that the creepers find so appetizing. I smile at that gruesome thought. Soon, we start to move forward, jumping from car to car, clunk, clunk, clunk. Mitchell and Skye kick any creepers out of our path. I also kick some that come too close for comfort.

“I don’t know how long we can keep this up,” Mitchell pants. “They’ll be coming for us in that direction too,” he points down the bridge. Skye has this look of concentration on her face as she keeps kicking the creepers. More and more of them are coming; some of them claw at my legs, drawing blood. I will never let their teeth touch me though. As much as I’d like to know just what the creepers are, I do not want to become one of them. “Skye, there’s too many.” Skye guides us to the other side of the bridge, creepers snapping at her as she does so.

“Jump when I tell you to!” she shouts at us.

“What?” I ask. “What do you mean?”

“Just do it when I tell you to,” she tells me with no explanation. We approach the river and the creepers become more and more overwhelming. They bite my shoes, hoping to reach my skin but they never do. We are over the river now and the creepers seem to come in waves, their feet pounding and scraping the black pavement.

“Jump!” Skye screams at us and I see her disappear over the bridge, free-falling straight into the Rio Grande. Mitchell pauses, but he plunges in after her and I follow. It seems that all I ever do is follow and it may be the death of me. When I hit the water though, I do not die, I realize just how alive I am. I go so deep into the river, everything is black and my mind plays tricks on me. I imagine cold, waxy fingers grabbing my limbs to pull me close. I swim to the surface of the water and I emerge gasping and shouting for Skye. I flail my arms, blind since my brown hair covers my eyes. My energy seems to drain and my screaming dies down. I want to give up, go with the flow for once. I have never been normal and I never will. I feel a strong arm grasp my wrist just before I drown.

“Allison!” Mitchell shouts at me. “Swim to shore!” I don’t feel like going to shore though, I just want to die and go with the flow of the Rio Grande forever. What’s the point of living if I’ll never know?

“No,” I murmur. Mitchell groans and takes me to the shore slowly. When we arrive, I feel a sharp sting on my cheek. I automatically raise my hand to it and I brush my hair out of my face.

“What the hell were you doing?” Skye screams at me. I think about it and I realize what happened. I got depressed. I really do need more meds. If Mitchell wasn’t out there, I would have succumbed to the river. Even with this realization, an overwhelming sadness still presses down on my heart. I stand up fast; too fast that it makes me dizzy.

“Uh, I don’t know,” I say lamely. Mitchell and Skye stare at me and there’s a period of awkward silence. I turn my head away from them to look at the bridge, where creepers are dropping into the river after us. Somewhere close though, a creeper moans and I hear a bang from Mitchell’s rifle. A middle-aged creeper behind Skye drops to the ground.

“Let’s move,” he says, letting Skye go in front of him to lead. Skye has always been a leader, she was student body president at Cibola high school, our old school, she always volunteered in different charities, and she always took charge of class projects. The leader part of her hasn’t changed, but the part of her that loved deeply seems to be dormant. One day though, she’ll erupt and her shell will melt away. We find a trail among the overgrown bushes and grass. Thorns scratch our arms and legs, adding to the scratches creepers made. Soon though, we come across a paved bike path that runs along the bank of the river.

“I know where we are,” Skye assures us. Mitchell scopes out the area taking in some creepers that make their way towards us slowly. He raises his rifle, ready to knock down any creeper that wanders too close to us. Skye’s brow crinkles as it always does when she thinks hard. Her hair drips with river water, as does mine. A puddle has formed around our feet, turning the fine dirt on the path to silky mud. “Got it. We can cut across the Journal Center and take the road down to our building,” I form a map in my head to double check and it seems that Skye’s plan would work. I nod my approval. Skye looks to Mitchell.

“Does it look like I know where your house is?” he asks sarcastically. Skye shrugs it off and she leads us through bushes and dirt lots, avoiding Paseo. My legs slowly turn into jelly until it feels like I can barely stand. I am a mess of blood and white rags, but most of all I am tired. I’m not sure that I want to go any further, but I push on and tell myself that it’s the depression talking, slowly seeping blackness into my mind. Sometimes though, I’m not sure if it is the depression. We reach the Journal Center soon, the golden dome of the former newspaper building gleaming in the last few rays of light in the day. We need to hurry. The first signs of darkness are beginning to show.

“Skye, we need to hurry,” I warn. She nods at me, telling me that she understands, but there’s an obstacle ahead. I stare at the road in front of the journal center and I see that it’s crawling with creepers that haven’t sensed us yet, but it’s just a matter of time before they do.

“We need to cross I-25 Allison, but I don’t know if we can,” says Skye, looking to Mitchell for ideas. Mitchell; however, is staring at the pyramid Marriott hotel a few yards away.

“Does that hotel have a pool?” he asks. Skye looks at him quizzically, not getting what he means just yet, but I do. After a few seconds though, she gets it.

“As much as I hate to admit it Mitchell, awesome idea,” she replies to his idea. Mitchell smiles, proud of Skye’s compliment. We sprint over to the pool gate, trying to savor what little daylight we have left. The white gate is locked, but we hop over it easily and we jump into the pool, trying to mask our scent with the chlorinated pool water.

“That should do it,” Mitchell says to us. We hop over the fence once again and we take off across the brown grass and then over I-25 with success. We don’t stop running after we cross the road though, we’re still too close to creepers that could be more that we can handle. Skye weaves through dirt lots and warehouses, eventually leading us to our apartment building. The only problem is that creepers are crowded around our building; a faint light glows through our window indicating that someone is in there, and the sun just set.

“Crap,” Skye laments, putting her hands on her knees. Mitchell pulls out a flashlight from his backpack that somehow survived going in the river and the pool. Mitchell searches the industrial yard right next to our building searching for anything. He finds a good length of rope and a railroad nail that he picks up and brings over to us. I look at the stuff and then at Mitchell himself.

“You have an idea don’t you?” I ask. I can sense his grin from here.

“Skye,” he calls to her. “How good a shot are you with your bow and arrows?”

“Pretty good, why?”

“Can an arrow hold a human being?”

“Yeah, I would think so. Ah! Another brilliant idea from Mr. Sarcasm!” Skye exclaims. He laughs.

“Yeah, I think so,” Mitchell says. I watch him tie the rope to an arrow and then hand it to Skye. She shoots the arrow to a wooden window frame. Mitchell pushes the railroad spike into the ground with his rifle and ties the rope to it. Skye tests it and it holds.

“Okay. You go first,” she suggests, no orders Mitchell. He seems scared, but he goes ahead and climbs it to the window and breaks the glass with his rifle. “Now you go,” Skye tells me. I’m the follower so I do what she says and I inch towards the window opening into Mitchell’s hands. I let go and he carries me in. I’m surprised at how gentle he brings me in since he looks so strong. Skye is next and when she comes in, Mitchell offers to carry her in the building, but she refuses and goes in herself.

“We made it,” Mitchell says with relief in his voice.

“We did, but there might be someone in our apartment and we have no idea who it is. I wasn’t expecting a visitor,” Skye points out. She walks to our door with her bow loaded and she opens the door. She stays still, absolutely still. I peek in to see what petrified my friend and then I see. There’s a curly-haired blonde boy with big, green eyes standing right in the middle of the apartment. Shane and Skye lock their eyes onto each other, their mouths hanging open.

Then Skye falls to her knees, and I don’t think it’s from exhaustion. I look into her eyes and there are tears. I think she found part of her heart again.

I open the door to Skye’s apartment and I stumble in, finally collapsing on the bed. I can smell Skye’s friend Allison in the covers. I can’t smell Skye though. That’s one of the things I like about her. She never uses smelly shampoo and she never pours perfume all over her body like some girls did. I can feel her though, I know she’s alive.

“Skye?” I call for her, my voice shaking. No answer. I call for Allison. “Allison?” still no answer. I’m scared for them, but I tell myself that they’re just out scavenging. There’s still this lingering fear in my gut that she might not be alive. I try to ignore those thoughts, but I’m still terrified of what I might have lost.

Because without Skye, my life has no meaning. I look around the small apartment that Skye said her family lived in. I’m surprised that her little brother Bryant would have gone scavenging with the rest of the family, he’s so young. That’s when I notice a small detail. In Skye’s last letter before the Post Office shut down, she told a story about Bryant’s fire engine that was always in the middle of the floor. I don’t see a fire engine. I force myself to get up and look around the apartment. There’s a white door right in front of the bed that’s closed and judging from the dust on the brass doorknob, has been closed for a long time, as if guarding a secret. I turn the knob and open the door, revealing a little kid’s room covered in dust.

Bryant is dead. I find another white door and I enter an ocean-themed bathroom. Of course, Skye always liked the ocean. She even compared me to the ocean, saying we were both fathomless and deep beyond belief. I want to hear her voice say that again. I go back to the living room to search for a trace of Skye’s parents. I see none. Even though it’s likely that Skye is dead along with her family, I refuse to believe it. Without her as the meaning in my life, I can’t live anymore. What’s the point? I fall onto the bed, my curly hair bouncing along with my body and I look up to the ceiling. I see it.

Cassiopeia is up there. Skye must have robbed Hobby Lobby’s glow in the dark stars and made constellations on the ceiling. Skye loved space almost as much as she loved the ocean. I guess she loved everything about the unknown. It surprised me because the unknown was more of Allison’s thing. After getting to know Allison and Skye better though, I could tell the difference between them.

Allison wanted the exact answer, Skye didn’t care for the exact answer, she left that to her imagination. Cassiopeia though, is our favorite constellation. I remember when I came over to her house to visit from Tucson; we went camping in her backyard. It was perfect, the grass was soft and moist with water, and there was no moon so we could see a lot of the stars. We lay there side by side and she would point out constellations and tell me the stories behind them. Right after she told me the story behind Ursa Major and Ursa Minor, she told me her opinion about Cassiopeia.

“Cassiopeia was a vain queen and I don’t know why this is my favorite constellation, but it is,” she said, turning her head to smile at me. I smile back and brush away her golden hair from her face. For some reason, I was brave that night.

“Because you’re my queen,” I tell her, beaming at Skye and the constellation both.

“But I’m not vain,” she locked her eyes on the stars before she turned back to me. “Or am I kidding myself?”

“No, you’re not vain. You’re one of the most humble people I know. That’s why I’m waiting for the day when you think you’re beautiful,” I said to her. She smiled so I captured it and I tried to make it shine in my sky just like a star. It worked. It’s still there.

Even though we were close to becoming more than friends that night, we never crossed that line. I wish I wasn’t such a coward. I try to take a much needed nap, but nightmares of my journey here haunt my mind. My family died and turned into ramblers soon after the virus hit. My own father tried to infect me, but I dodged it and I left to go somewhere safe. Soon, I realized that there was nothing there in Tucson for me. All I had left was Skye and I knew she was alive. I had gotten a letter from her a week ago.

I still have that letter. It’s dirty and some places in the letter are hardly legible since it got wet somewhere on my way here. This letter kept me alive. It was a symbol of hope for me in a time of pain. It gave me the hope that someday, I might get to see the girl who gives my life meaning. Now, I finally arrive and she’s not here. My hope has dwindled down from 75% to 25%.

I can wait though. I’ll stay here for a week or so and if she doesn’t show up, I’ll conclude that she’s dead. Then what? I ask myself. I answer my own question. I’ll kill myself. Because what life is worth living if there’s no meaning? I’ve struggled with meaning my entire life and I give all the credit to philosophy. One thing I especially struggled with was the Tao Te Ching. Laozi’s philosophy was a go with the flow, rise with the tide sort of thing, but I have gone against the flow my entire life.

I look out the window and it seems to be about two o’ clock in the afternoon. I go to sleep again, dreaming of the “Highway to Hell.”


I stick my thumb out so that I can hitchhike another forty miles or so and a black car pulls up next to me. I climb in the car and start to thank the driver when I realize who it is.

“Skye?” I ask, confused. She smiles, her blonde hair shimmering in the sun. Her long legs are clad in skinny jeans and her shirt is just a plain purple one.

“Shane, I can’t believe I found you!” her face lights up and her blue eyes seem to glow with this radiance. She pulls me into a hug, and I hold onto her as long as I can, tears starting to flood my eyes. One good blink would send them flowing out of me. We let go.

“Skye,” my voice cracks. “How did you know?” She turns to face me, words forming on her lips until she lets out this guttural scream. Blood trickles down her neck, turning her purple shirt to maroon. I look out the open window and I see a rambler chewing on Skye’s neck. A gust of hot wind blows, pushing the putrid scent of the rambler into the car.

“Shane,” she gurgles. The radiance in her eyes grows dim as all her life blood drains out. The rambler is in a white dress, which reminds me of…

“Allison,” I whisper. She stares at me with lifeless eyes and brings up her mouth, chewing on a mouthful of Skye’s skin. The creature seems to smile at me, this twisted grimace that should never have been on sweet, kind Allison. She tilts her head and turns around, walking towards the desert, which absorbs every drop of Skye’s blood that drips from Allison’s face. I grab Skye and bring her to me, her wet blood sticky against my smooth skin. She’s cold now, as if she’s never really been alive. I feel her stir underneath me and I hope that somehow, she still alive. I hold her up to ask if she’s okay and she lunges at my throat.


“Aaaaaaaaaaah!” I wake up screaming, still feeling her teeth biting into my throat. Cold sweat covers my body and I get out of the covers. It’s completely dark. I feel for a lamp, any kind of light and I come across a flashlight. I fumble for the switch to turn it on and I find it eventually. I turn it on and the apartment lights up. I expect to see a rambler in one of the corners, but after looking around some, I know there isn’t any. I go over to the fireplace and get a fire going that warms up the tiny apartment. I turn off the flashlight and then I hear the doorknob rattle. I have nothing to defend myself. Maybe it’s Skye. I think. I stand there in the middle of the floor, ready to fight if I have to when the door opens. A tall, blonde girl stands with her bow aimed at me. Her mouth drops open and she lowers the bow. My mouth drops too and Skye, my Skye drops to her knees. Allison is behind her along with this muscular guy with brown hair.

“I thought you were dead,” Skye tells me, her voice cracking. A tear spills down her cheek. I take a step towards her, tears running down my cheek too.

“No,” I chuckle. “I’m very much alive,” I take her into a hug, almost squeezing her to death. I have her now and I’m never going to let go.

“Am I dreaming?” Skye asks.

“Nope,” Allison chimes in. “I see him too.”

“Me too,” the muscular guy says.

I laugh. “No Skye, you’re not dreaming,” we hug each other in silence for a while, Allison beaming at us and the other guy looking like he’s bored. She lets go and I force myself to let go too. My hands feel wet and I look at them. They’re covered in sticky blood. I look at Allison and the other guy. They’re just a mess. I guess they can see my concern.

“Went though a bit of trouble getting here,” the muscular guy says.

“Ahh, I see. What is your name by the way?” I ask.

“Mitchell,” he answers.

“The sarcastic genius,” Skye adds. “This is Shane,” she points at me with her thumb.

“Pleasure to meet you Shane, but who are you exactly?” Mitchell asks. He narrows his eyes at me, inspecting every inch of me. He makes me feel small.

“And how did you get here?” Allison inquires, a look of shock on her scratched face.

“That’s the story I would like to hear,” Skye stands there, studying me until she herds us all to the bed, where we sit down. I can almost hear the others muscles sigh and relax. I look into Skye’s blue eyes, which don’t glow as much as they did before. They seem dimmed by sadness and anger. I wonder if my eyes reflect the way I feel, hollow and numb. The journey on the “Highway to Hell,” eats away at your humanity after a while. I used to be a wildfire, roaring with passion and feeling, but now the wildfire has died down to a few dead and dying embers.

Allison speaks, snapping me out of my trance. “But before you tell us how you got here, tell us why you’re here,” Skye looks down at the mattress and then lifts her head to meet my eyes. She only blinked once during that entire motion, making it seem like an eternity. I scan her scratched face, counting every, single red line upon her face the ramblers made and vowing revenge, for they tried to kill the meaning in my life.

“Yes, Shane,” Skye whispers, trying to hide the tears in her voice. After months of hearing nothing but suffering, I know the sound of the voice of a person on the verge of breaking down. “Why are you here?”

“Skye,” I say. “I’m here for you.”

One of the barriers inside of her heart tumbles, and after a while, I see a little bit of the glow she used to have come back.

Part of my heart comes back. I blink, letting out a single tear. Inside of me there’s an ocean that wants out, but I can’t let it come out. I’ve showed too much feeling today and showing feeling is a luxury that I need to ration for too much can make me sick and weak. I found part of my heart in Shane today, but I can’t tell if it just came back like the creepers outside the walls of this apartment, or if a small part really is back.

“You came for me?” I ask, not letting my voice tremble. “But why am I worth all that trouble?”

He shakes his head. “I’m not ready to tell you,” he whispers.

“Look, I’m glad you guys are happy about seeing each other, but Shane here needs to tell his story,” Mitchell says, his arms folded across his chest. Allison alternates looking at Shane and me, but says nothing.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. I build up defenses around the walls that I have left around my heart. I harden myself almost immediately, ready to listen to Shane’s story. Shane clears his throat. “Where to start?” he mutters.

“Start with why you left,” Allison commands. I’m surprised at the authority in her voice. I’ve almost never heard that before. Just once in a blue moon.

“There was nothing left in Tucson for me,” Shane starts. “My whole family turned into ramblers after a month or so and I decided to leave since Skye is well…” he drifts off. “Pretty much my only friend and I knew that she was alive.”

“You call them ramblers?” Mitchell asks.

“Yes. Do you have a different name for them?” Shane inquires.

“We call them creepers,” I answer softly. “Continue.”

“I got my family car, which had a full tank, but when I got onto I-10, this guy with a gun took the car so I had to walk,” he says with fear in his eyes as if he is reliving the entire trip in his mind. “This family practically adopted me so I walked and hitchhiked with them. It was hard. Sometimes there would be creeper outbreaks and chaos would break out too,” his voice starts to crack. “We lost two of the children. One was a little baby and it starved to death. The five-year-old girl was bitten and she turned after a few minutes. It was terrible. There was little food, and a lot of pain. So much pain that it was called the ‘Highway to Hell.’ It was hell unleashed. Everywhere you went there was screaming, crying, and blood. Oh, so much blood,” Shane pauses and stares at the floor. He turns pale. “It was too much sometimes. You wanted to throw up, but there was nothing in your stomach so you would just gag.”

Allison lets out a sob. Mitchell has this twisted look on his face, like he’s in pain. My stomach lurches, but I fight the urge to throw up. I look into Shane’s eyes, which are gray and wet. The color of his eyes transitions between gray and green so you’re never completely sure as to what the color of his eyes really are. Shane has a secret storm inside of him. You only see the clouds and rain, but he’s the one that feels it.

“But I made it here,” he says. “Weathered, but in one piece.”

“And that’s all that matters,” I finish for him. He stares at me, trying to see what’s underneath my shell, but he never will. There’s this profound silence. Even though Shane didn’t go into complete detail, just the general story disturbed us. Everybody in this world has seen death, but not everybody has seen pain like Shane has. “I have one more question,” I say.

“Yes?”

“How did you know that I was alive?” I ask Shane. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a dirty envelope. He obviously took care of it even though it looks like it could crumble into dust. There was not a single tear in the paper.

“Your last letter,” he tells me and holds out the paper for me to take. I gently pull it from his fingers, handling it like I would a precious porcelain doll. The last thing I ever wrote that had at least a trace of my heart in it. I unfold the letter and look at the first few words.

“Dear Shane,” I whisper. “Even though you said we’re in close proximity, we’re still in separate universes.” Shane always joked that we were so close that we could read each other’s minds, even if we were in different states. I look up from the paper and I see a smile start to grow on his face. Surprising myself, I smile too.

“It’s a miracle!” Allison exclaims, her arms thrown up in the air.

I laugh. “What?”

“Skye, do you know how long it has been since you have smiled?” she asks me.

“No, how long?”

“Months,” she answers simply. She lets out a small chuckle. “Months!” We all start to laugh and we seem almost superhuman to be able to laugh in this world.

“Although I’d like to laugh all day, we have no food,” I tell everyone, shoving us back into reality.

“I noticed,” Shane says. “But weren’t you guys out scavenging?”

“We were, but Mitchell here,” I glare at Mitchell. “Kept us hostage and when he took us back here, he supposedly forgot,” I make quotation marks with my hands, “our stuff.”

“For the last time, I did not keep you hostage and I really did forget your stuff!” Mitchell responds, seeming more than a little irritated.

“So he says,” I add. “But we’re going to have to go into town to trade.”

“Skye no,” Allison objects. “Not after what happened last time.”

“This time we’ll be safe because we have these two,” I point at Shane and Mitchell.

“It might just work,” Allison agrees to my plan. I look at Mitchell and Shane.

“Do you have anything to trade?” Mitchell asks.

“Oh yes we do,” I raise my eyebrows and get up, painfully, to go to the closet by the entrance. I open the door and rummage around in there to find a roll of toilet paper. I take the roll out and hold it out for everybody to see. “Behold! Toilet paper!” The boys seem confused.

“It’s considered as valuable as gold here,” Allison explains. “Some people would kill to get a roll of that stuff.” She crosses her arms across the front of her blood-stained dress.

“Did the world really run out of toilet paper while I was on the highway?” Shane jokingly asks. His curly hair bounces up and down when he laughs. His eyes do not twinkle the way they used to though, his secret storm still rages on inside of him.

“Unfortunately, yes,” I answer. “We should really get to bed though guys.” My smile fades as I raise my hand to my tender head. “We have a long day tomorrow, and my head hurts like hell from where Mitchell whacked me.” I shoot a look that could kill at Mitchell.

“Sorry,” he whispers.

“You’re not forgiven,” I reply. I look at Allison. “Okay, maybe she forgives you, but I don’t.”

“I agree with you Skye, you all obviously need some rest. Let me clean some of your cuts first though, you guys are a mess,” Shane offers.

“Let’s just wash them with water and cloth,” Allison says. “I’m too tired and sore to put any of that stinging first aid spray on these.” Allison looks at the slashes on her arms and winces. Then she raises a hand to her long, brown hair, which is tangled and resembles a rat’s nest.

“Better get up early to take care of that,” I tell Allison, who just glares back. I go over to the sink and I wash the dried blood off my skin with a black washcloth. After my arms are done, I wash my legs, which aren’t as torn up since I was wearing pants. “I’ll find you and Mitchell some blankets,” I say to Shane. In order to go get blankets though, I have to go into Bryant’s room. I pause and take a deep breath before entering his room, which is still coated in dust, and still exactly the way I left it. I grab some quilts from the walnut dresser and I throw them on the floor at Mitchell’s feet. Then I collapse on my mattress and fall asleep almost instantly. I don’t even dream.

***

I hear the door open in the night and see Shane slip into the darkness. Huh? I think. I get up out of my bed so that I can follow him. I go out my front door and I hear him going down the stairs, just about to go outside the building. Outside the building? There’s creepers outside the building!

“Shane!” I try to yell for him, but it comes out as a croak. I close my eyes and tense, waiting for the moans of the creepers to escalate and for Shane’s screams. They never come though. I look over the rail onto the street below. Shane’s there. I can see him walking in the moonlight, but what strikes me as odd is that the creepers are there in the moonlight too. Shane is walking among the dead. How is that possible? “I’m dreaming,” I tell myself. I close my eyes and pinch myself so I can wake up. I open my eyes. Nope, it’s real. Shane is still walking among them as if he’s one of them. I can’t follow him; the creepers will be on me immediately. So I wait.

After what seems like an eternity, I hear footsteps on the stairs so I go over to see if it’s Shane. I press myself against the wall so that if it really isn’t Shane, I’ll have the element of surprise. Slap, slap, slap. I can hear shoes against the concrete steps. A figure emerges out of the stairwell, a skinny boy with curly hair that bounces with each step. “Shane,” I call out to him and I come out of my hiding place. He jumps.

“Skye? Don’t do that,” he sighs. “Why are you out here?”

“How can you do that?” I get straight to the point.

“How can I do what?” he asks, feigning ignorance.

“You know,” I start. “How can they not sense you? I saw you walk among them and they never noticed. How is that? Who are you?” He turns to face me, one side of his face lit up by the moon and the other in shadows.

“You know who I am Skye.” He steps closer to me and I take another step back.

“Maybe I know who you are, but I don’t know what you are.”

He exhales, showing that he can at least breathe. “I don’t know why I can do it. I’ve just always been that way.”

“I’m so stupid!” I scold myself. “How could I have not seen it? You had no scratches from them. You survived the highway when almost no one does. How could I—“ I trail off, not knowing what to say.

“No matter what I can do Skye, I’m, I—“ he stutters. “I’m still me,” he says simply. “Even after I found out I can walk with the ramblers, even after what I have seen on the highway, I have not lost who I am.” Another barrier in my heart tumbles. I realize that I’m not really as strong as I thought I was. Shane has seen more pain and suffering than I probably ever will, and he still was able to keep his heart.

“You’re right,” I give in, not pressing for any more information.

“Let’s go to bed Skye,” Shane says to me. “We have a long day tomorrow.”

“But if you can do that, we don’t need to go trade.”

“I don’t want the others to know yet,” he tells me. I stay quiet. “You promise not to say anything?” I don’t like keeping secrets, but I’d keep any secret for Shane, no matter how heavy the burden is.

“I promise,” I respond. He smiles and turns toward the apartment door. “And Shane?”

“Yes?”

“What did you go out there for?”

He laughs. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.” Then he goes into the apartment. I stay out to look at the stars and I find Cassiopeia, the vain queen. I remember when Shane told me I was his queen.

“Am I still your queen Shane?” I ask, but I get no answer. I tell myself I probably never will know the answer and with that realization, I go inside to return to my dreamless sleep.

I feel someone shake me awake. I roll over to see who it is and I discover that it’s Allison.

“Allison, what?” I ask, my mind still foggy from sleep.

“Time to get up!” she says cheerfully. I sit up and find the others moaning and groaning.
“Allison, this is the first time I have ever slept in past six and you get me up?” Skye complains. “What’s the matter with you?”
“Yeah Allison. We were all sleeping peacefully,” Shane backs up Skye. I say nothing. I just get out of the bundle of quilts and straighten up my camouflage clothes.
“We have to go in to trade today remember?” Allison responds to their complaints.
“That can be done anytime!” Skye groans, exasperated. “Just one more hour of sleep.”
“No,” Allison says simply. “Get up.” Allison goes to the kitchen and I smell something good cooking. I thought there was no food. I’m going to bug Skye about it.
“Hey Skye! I guess you were wrong!” I tell her smugly.
“Wrong about what?” She asks.
“You do have food. Something’s cooking in the kitchen.” Skye’s eyes widen and she sniffs the air.
“Allison!” Skye calls to her. “Where did you get the food?”
“I went to one of the houses nearby and found us some food,” Allison replies. “Not a lot, but enough for breakfast.”
“Jeez, how long have you been up?” I inquire, curious as to why she’s acting this way.
“I don’t know,” Allison answers. “It was still dark out when I got up.” I look over at Skye, who’s dressed in jeans and an “AC/DC” t-shirt and is brushing her hair. She snaps her head around to look at Allison.
“You were up before dawn? How?”
“I just had all this energy,” Allison responds to Skye’s question. Skye looks worried now. She stares at Allison’s outfit, a white dress with black arm warmers that have lace at the ends of them. Skye focuses on the arm warmers and Allison’s cheerful demeanor fades.
“Skye, I swear I didn’t,” Allison defends herself. “I wear arm warmers all the time.” Skye seems to be debating whether or not to believe her. Don’t know what they’re talking about though.
Sky answers, “I believe you, but you’re still manic. You need medicine now,” Skye tells Allison. Allison doesn’t believe Skye.
“Skye. I don’t need that stuff. I’m fine!” Allison claims. “I just wish you could see it the way I do.” Allison heads to the balcony, but before she does she informs us that breakfast is on the stove in this sad voice.
“Great,” Skye laments and throws her hands in the air. “Now she’s depressed.” Shane goes up to Skye and places his hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t feel bad,” Shane says. Skye says nothing and just stares ahead. I want to go out on the balcony to talk to Allison and see if I can figure out what the hell is going on.
“I’m going to get some chow and go out on the balcony,” I tell them.
“Don’t,” Skye says in this tone that stops me cold. “She’s not your responsibility Mitchell. Remember, you’re not our friend yet,” she snarls and glares at me. “You’re just an ally.” Normally, I would have rebutted, but she’s right. I’m not their friend yet, and I shouldn’t cross Skye right now, she would probably shoot me with her bow and arrows.
“Okay,” I obey her. “I’ll eat inside.” I go to the small, plain kitchen and I slop some oatmeal that’s in a metal pot into a bowl. I find a spoon and I go out into the living room. I sit on the wooden floor eating my oatmeal, wishing I had some milk and brown sugar to go with it. Allison comes back in and sits next to me.
“Sleep okay?” she asks.
“Yeah, I slept okay,” I answer. I look across the room at Skye, who is glaring at me. “Uh,” I turn back to Allison. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to talk to you. I think Skye will kill me.” Allison rolls her eyes.
“Lay off, Skye,” she says. “I’m fine now, and we’re just talking.”
“Fine, I will. We need to go soon, so finish eating,” Skye commands.
“What’s eating at her?” I ask Allison and then I scoop up the last bite of oatmeal.
“Ugg, don’t ask.” Allison gets up and packs a couple of toilet paper rolls in a green backpack. Skye gets some batteries and places them in my backpack. I assume batteries are very valuable as well. I wouldn’t know, I’ve been pretty isolated, cut off from people, and I’ve never been in the fenced in part of the city. After seeing how Allison reacted to going there, I assume it’s pretty rough. Allison is by the sink filling up water bottles, Skye is putting clothes in the green bag, and Shane is helping Skye. I feel useless so I just get up and grab my rifle.
“Okay, we’re ready to go,” Skye announces and opens the door for us. Skye heads over to get a leather jacket and her bow and arrows. Once we are all out of the apartment, I close the door behind us. When we start to leave, I worry about locking the door, but I realize that no one will be coming to the apartment. When we reach the base of the stairs leading down to the street. “Okay, Allison, I want you to lead so I can take up the rear,” Skye explains. Allison nods. “Boys, run for your lives and follow Allison down the storm drain.”
“Storm drain?” Shane says, one of his blonde curls hanging over his eye. “That’s clever.” He smiles at that idea. Skye beams at him.
“Glad you like it. Allison go,” Skye orders. As I sprint I try to analyze Skye’s behavior. She acts differently around Shane, nicer, which I didn’t think was possible for her. I climb down the storm drain into darkness. Skye comes after me. I continue to think while the others figure out what to do. If Skye acts differently around Shane, that must mean…Aha! Skye loves him. For some reason though, I find that unsettling. I quickly push the feeling away. It’s game time now; I need to focus on surviving. I become acutely aware of my surroundings, the other’s ragged breaths, the bang of a hard object in a metal box, and of course, the incessant moans above. The banging stops after a while and a flashlight is turned on, bringing light into the darkness.
“Let there be light!” Shane jokes. The girls laugh, but I stay silent. Everyone is staring at a blueprint and Skye is muttering to herself. After a few moments of muttering and silence, Skye closes the blueprint.
“Alright, I know where to go,” Skye says. “Come on.” Everyone follows Skye down the dark, damp tunnels.
“So are we going to be in storm drains the entire time?” I ask.
“No,” Skye answers. “We’re going to get out in downtown. There’s a series of bridges connecting the buildings until we get to the fenced in part of town.”
“Why are the bridges there? For transportation?”
“Nowadays it’s used for the scavengers, but when the virus hit, it was a way for people to safely get into the fenced in part of the city.”
“I wonder why anyone cared to set up a bridge system,” Shane ponders out loud.
“Survival,” I say. Shane looks at me and nods his head. I hear moaning and I stop the group. “Did you hear that?” I ask.
“No,” Shane says.
“Nope,” Allison answers.
“I heard it too,” Skye tells me. “There might be a creeper or two up ahead. She reaches for an arrow from her quiver and loads her bow. “Fall back a bit guys.” We do as she says. Skye’s the only one of us who has a weapon. I have a switchblade, but that doesn’t do much and I might get bitten if I try to kill a creeper with it. The moans get louder and louder. I look over at Allison, who’s eyes are widened in fear. I rub her shoulder.
“It’ll be alright,” I comfort her. She smiles at me.
“I never really got used to them,” Allison whispers. “Sometimes creepers fall in the drains, it’s common, but I always get terrified when I hear those moans down here.”
“I completely agree,” I share. “The hairs in the back of my neck are standing on end.”
“Don’t people always die in dark and confined places such as this in horror movies?” Allison asks.
“Usually,” I reply.
“That’s why I hate being in this kind of situation. Someday I’ll get cornered by one of these things and I’ll get bitten. I’m scared to get bitten. Are you?”
“Well, of course I want to survive, but I’m not afraid of death. Isn’t becoming a creeper just like dying?” I ask Allison.
“That’s what I want to know,” she says. The conversation stops. There’s silence except for the moaning that’s getting louder and louder. Soon, we hear shuffling. They’re close, very close. Then, we see them, three mutilated, hollow-eyed, and broken creeper men coming straight for us. Skye, with amazing precision, shoots all of them in the head, one by one.
“Well, that was easy,” I say, breaking the silence. Skye goes over to the creepers and pulls the arrows out of their heads to put them back in her quiver.
“Didn’t used to be easy,” Skye tells me. Shane smiles at her.
“Why wasn’t it easy before?” Shane asks.
“Because I thought some part of them was human. After what happened with Bryant though, I realized that no part of them could ever be human to do that to a child,” Skye answers.
“Was Bryant, you know, bitten?” Shane inquires tentatively.
“Yeah, he was,” Skye whispers.
“Who’s Bryant?” I ask Allison.
“He was Skye’s brother,” Allison replies. I realize that is why Skye seems to be without a heart. She lost someone she loved so her love went with them.
Skye sighs. “We’re here.” She climbs up the ladder to glimpse at the world above. “She climbs back down. “Okay, there’s a white building in front of you, head straight for it. There are creepers wandering around so I’ll go first to clear a path for you guys. No dilly-dallying if you want to live.” Skye climbs out into the world above with an arrow in her hand. I can hear the sound of the arrow piercing the creeper’s heads. When I climb out after Shane, I see creeper bodies littered on the street. I don’t take time to see the dead’s faces, for I can see several creepers heading straight for me so I run for dear life. I enter the building that Skye pointed out and I head through the door to join Skye and Shane. Allison is right behind me. Once we’re all inside, the door is shut and it’s good timing too. I can hear scratching and moans just moments later. There’s a collective sigh and we all just stand there catching our breath. Skye starts to climb the staircase adjacent to the lobby where we rested first. The others follow and I bring up the rear. After climbing only god knows how many steps, we reach the roof, where there’s a dingy, wooden bridge stretching across to the building next to this one. In the distance, I can see this line, which is the fence separating the living and the dead.
“That bridge doesn’t look safe,” Shane complains.
“It doesn’t, but it’ll hold,” Skye reassures him. Of course, Skye goes ahead and steps on the bridge. We all cross each bridge one by one. It’s all just a big balancing act. One bad step and we could hurtle into the streets below. If that happens, I hope the fall kills me instead of the creepers. We all step off another bridge onto a building’s roof. We’re almost there; two more bridges should get us safely over the fence. I can see little stalls full of things to trade. In fifteen minutes or so, we will be part of society again, at least for a little while. “Crap!” Skye shouts. Her hands are on her blonde, ponytailed head.
“What’s going on?” I say, confused.
“You haven’t noticed yet?” Skye asks me.
“Noticed what?”
“There’s no bridge Mitchell.”
“Crap,” I mutter. We just stand there trying to figure out a plan so that we can go among the dead once again without having to feel their teeth digging into our flesh. Here we go, here we go again.

Fantastic. There’s no bridge into the city, just fantastic. Everyone is standing around trying to figure out what to do except for me. I’m not really that smart in these kinds of situations so I just stand around looking like I’m trying to come up with a plan. Mitchell speaks first.

“Is there a way into the city from the ground?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Skye answers. “There’s a series of gates, but it’s a bit far away.”

“Can we get there by going back into the drains?” Shane proposes.

“I suppose we could, but Allison and I haven’t gone that far into the drains. We don’t know what it’s like,” Skye responds.

“We either starve, or we take our chances,” Mitchell says. I like his philosophy.

“I agree with Mitchell,” Shane supports. He turns to Skye. “Let me go ahead in the tunnels to see what it’s like. That way, I can warn you if there’s something ahead.”

“Ha!” I interject, joining the conversation. “You can’t warn us if you’re a creeper.”

“I won’t turn.” Skye shoots a warning look at Shane. I don’t know why though. “Skye,” Shane chuckles nervously. “Let me do this.” She thinks about it while staring into his eyes.

“Fine,” she gives in.

“But don’t expect her to come save you,” I add.

“I won’t need to save Shane because he won’t be that stupid, will you Shane?” Skye looks at him, waiting for his answer.

“No, you won’t have to come save me,” he replies, grinning at Skye. I just turn my head away and stare at the city that’s just beyond our reach. Mitchell and Shane lift the door that leads into the building. Skye goes first, bow in hand in case there’s any creepers in the building. I go in after her and start to descend down the steps. Mitchell comes in last judging from the thud of a heavy body landing on the floor. The stairwell we’re in is gray, just like this deranged world we’re in. This world isn’t red like the blood that was spilled, it’s gray, the most melancholy color. We all reach the bottom of the stairwell and Skye instructs us on what to do.

“The drain is directly in front of us so once again, run for your lives,” she says and lets Shane in front. He opens the door and we all run for the big, gaping mouth that leads to the world of the drains. That world is black, just like the darkness inside it. You never really know what could be down there. Shane crawls in and the rest of us follow one by one. Once I get in, I see Shane and his bouncy hair that seems to have a mind of it’s own disappear down the darkness of the drain. The only way I can tell he’s there is by his flashlight. Skye runs down towards him with the blueprint, probably to tell him where to go. I’m left alone with Mitchell.

“Do you think we’ll ever make it to the city?” I ask Mitchell.

“I think so, eventually,” he answers.

“You’re pretty optimistic.”

“And you…” he drifts off. “It depends on what mood you’re in.”

“True,” I reply. Sky comes back panting.

“Is the coast still clear?” Mitchell inquires.

“Yep,” Skye confirms. “And if that changes, Shane will let us know.” Skye eyes me and shoots me a look that asks me if I’m okay. I give her a slight nod in reply. I study her and try to find out why she seems a little different than she used to be. The normal Skye would have never relied on another person for our lives. Then again, this is Shane, a guy she’s known forever. Still…

“Guys,” Shane shines his flashlight on us.

“Is something ahead?” Skye makes sure it’s safe.

“No,” Shane states. “We’re almost there, but the bad news is that the gate is being swarmed by ramblers.”

“Allison,” Skye calls to me.

“Yeah?” I respond.

“Do you have your gun?”

“I do.” I swing my backpack from my back to get my gun out. I know I should have my gun where I can get it quickly, but it’s hard to find a place to put a gun when you’re wearing a dress and Skye usually kills the creepers, not me. I hold out the gun so Skye can grab it, but she backs away. Oh yeah, she hates guns. I hold it out for the boys.

“Never shot a gun in my life,” Shane shares and backs away.

“I have really bad aim,” Mitchell says. Wimps.

“Fine, I’ll do it,” I growl and get up to walk to the opening. There are a lot of creepers surrounding the fence, plus there’s more tugging on the fence. I assess the surroundings and go back to tell everyone my plan. “There’s too many for me to just shoot from there,” I explain. “I’ll get out first to shoot and run for the fence. You guys need to stay directly behind me.” Everybody nods and I get up, eager to get this over with. I hate being the leader, that’s Skye’s job. I clamber out to the surface and I start shooting creepers. Bang. Bang. Bang. One by one they fall to the ground. Creepers nearby start to shuffle towards us, attracted by the sound of the bullets. Eventually, we make it to the first gate and we all get in safely. After the gate is closed, new creepers replace the dead ones. We go through two other gates before we make it into the fenced-in city. A few people stop to look at us before going on their way. I imagine I’m quite a site in my blood-splattered, white dress.

“We made it!” Shane cheers. Skye slaps his hand in a high-five. I chuckle at Shane’s enthusiasm because it’ll be short-lived. We’re in a dangerous place now. This place has no government, only a few corrupt policemen so people can do as they please. Oh yeah Shane, you’ll soon realize that the dead are easier to deal with than the living. I turn back to my friends and I discover that Skye has linked arms with Shane. Good idea. I go over to Mitchell and link arms with him. When the virus broke out, time went back a century or so. Now, women are not equal to men anymore so women always have to have a man to protect them.

“Where to?” I ask Skye, officially giving her leadership position back.

“The marketplace,” she says. “I remember that’s over this way.” Skye points to the right. She and Shane take the lead while Mitchell and I follow.

“You did awesome back there,” Mitchell compliments me.

“Whatever,” I blow it off. “I didn’t like it.”

“I didn’t say you have to like blowing creeper heads off, I’m just saying you did well,” Mitchell continues. I don’t say anything back. We’re in a dark alley now and I just want to get out. Isn’t places like these where people get killed in movies?

“Hey! I remember you two!” a harsh voice proclaims. I wince and turn around to see one of the guys from the gang that ambushed Skye and I. Ugh, I hate being right. I get the gun from my bag and I hand it to Mitchell.

“Huh?” Mitchell stares at me, confused.

“Point it at that guy,” I whisper. “It’s much more effectual if you’re the one threatening him.”

“Uh, okay,” Mitchell spurts. “Get away from us!” Mitchell shouts in a much more powerful voice than before. The familiar guy flinches and runs off.

“Thanks Mitchell,” Skye says graciously. “Thank god we were able to stay out of trouble.”

“It was Allison’s idea,” he gives me the credit. My head sinks to look at my feet. I don’t like taking credit for things.

“I guess even sarcastic geniuses need help sometimes right?” Skye jokes. I don’t know why Sky thinks Mitchell is sarcastic, he isn’t really. There were just a few times when he used sarcasm. Ah well, it’s one of the things about Skye I’ll never understand. We arrive to the marketplace with ease. It’s kind of a stinky place, full of people who haven’t showered for a while. It has a nice atmosphere though; it reminds me of Pikes Place in Seattle, if there even is a Pikes Place anymore.

“Should we head for food first?” Shane asks.

“Yeah, we should,” Skye answers. “Come on.” Skye leads us through the marketplace and we weave through the crowd, bumping into people as we go. We come across a stall with a lot of food and we stop there. Skye takes out two rolls of toilet paper and gives them to Shane, who, like Mitchell, is confused. “Come on Shane, trade,” Skye encourages him.

“What will you trade for two rolls of toilet paper?” Shane asks the lady who is selling everything. The lady stares at the rolls as if they’re gold.

“Ten items,” the lady states.

“Push for fifteen,” Skye whispers to Shane.

“Fifteen,” Shane says.

“Thirteen,” the saleslady counters.

“No, fifteen.”

“You drive a hard deal sir, but since the lot of you are just kids, I’ll give you fifteen,” she relents. We all thank her in unison. Skye takes charge and picks out things that are healthy and have protein in them, such as energy bars and oatmeal. In the end though, she gives up one of our fifteen items for a chocolate bar we can all share. Chocolate. That sounds so good. I haven’t had a piece of chocolate for a long time, and it used to be one of my favorite foods.

“Come on guys, I can’t wait. Let’s crack open this chocolate bar,” Skye tells us. So we stand there eating our heavenly chocolate, forgetting about the rest of the world for a little while.



Similar books


JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This book has 0 comments.