[Point Of View: Harrison J. Frost]
{Location: Harrison's House}
[Author's Note: Mentions of alcohol abuse]
Changed the video at the top. Nothing has changed about the actual story.
7/8/22 Edit: Grammar updates, made dialogue clearer.
~~~
"Do you want me to stay with you?" He asks as he unbuckles his seatbelt.
"Yeah, just please stop treating me like a child. My dad already does that enough."
His face changes when he spots a reflection in the rear-view mirror, "Speaking of..."
We get out and go to the car that followed us into the driveway. Dad gets out and stands in front of us.
"What do you want, dad?" I ask.
"Just wanted to stop by to make sure you're alright." He speaks.
"That's funny because I remember you saying something similar yesterday. And, as I recall, that conversation turning into a shouting match."
"You're the one who wanted to do something that's against the law. It's not my fault that you're being delusional like Heath was."
"Heath wasn't being delusional; he was trying to help them!"
"There's no 'them' to help, Harrison. Those zombies are long gone. They have no idea what they're doing because they're no longer in control. I don't know why you and your sister couldn't accept that."
"There's nothing to accept, dad! He made a breakthrough! He would have made it if you hadn't destroyed his research!"
"Okay," Devon interjects, "You need to calm down and stop engaging him."
"I'm-" I growl and turn around, storming inside the house.
I slam the door behind me, navigating around the island to the fridge as the lights slowly turn on around me. I grab a water bottle and head to the window, watching Devon and Dad speak outside. After a few minutes, dad gets into his car and leaves.
Devon comes inside and sits on a stool, "So, Heath, huh?"
"Heath was my twin brother. He and I helped develop the Mist that tames the feral zombies. We called it the Cure Mist, but it's not a cure. It's just a suppressant. It won't be a cure until it turns the zombies to normal."
"And what about your mother?"
I take a drink from the water bottle before setting it down on the counter. I just analyze the bottle, not giving him a response.
"I won't pry," Devon whispers.
I take a can of soda from the fridge and set it down in front of him. We sit in silence for a while before the screen on the fridge lights up with the weather channel.
"Next up is an alert for Wednesday, a huge Toxin storm has torn through Africa and is now coming our way. The National Zombie Containment Agency requires everyone but Agency personnel to stay inside during storm hours."
"Must be a bad storm for the NZCA to make it a requirement two days early," Devon comments.
"Let's hope it doesn't get any worse. A strong toxin storm causes a lot of decay. Not to mention mass zombification," I reply,
"They'd have to use the whole force to calm everything down."
"We'd have to call in the National Guard, actually," I correct. "The NZCA doesn't have enough resources to clear out that many zombies across the United States. This is already a big storm, Dev. You better pray tonight that it doesn't evolve."
"I will," Devon laughs, "C'mon, let's go sit on the couch."
He gets up and I go around the island, sitting down on the couch next to him.
"I know you want to help me, but please, don't go all therapist on me like Erin did. I don't think I need all these big breakfasts or lunches with eight people every day. I'm okay with a few people, but that's it."
"That's okay. I understand. I don't exactly agree with Erin's choice to take you out anyways. You're more of a quiet, still mourner. Not up and about, getting everyone together like Erin. But please, understand that she's mourning too. She's like who I am to you. She was heather's childhood friend, heck, she was practically her sister."
The fridge in the background goes quiet, and the TV lights up with the same feed we were just watching. Devon leans over and grabs the controls, switching it to a movie instead. He puts his arm around my waist, and I scoot in, making him laugh.
"What's so funny?" I ask.
"You," he chuckles, "you always press your right leg up against my left leg. It's so weird. You've been doing it ever since we were babies."
"I know it is. I can't help it for some reason. It feels normal somehow. As if I was just born with you next to me. I did it with Heather as well."
"And did she find it weird?"
"Oh yeah. She would glare at me and scoot away from me. And then she'd end up cuddled up to my chest in the morning afterwards."
Devon laughs loudly, "I am not surprised."
I laugh with him, "Yeah. She kept saying hated cuddling, but I think she secretly liked it."
"Yeah, you did too."
"I did," I say, "I remember when you used to stay with me over the weekends when my dad was too drunk to take care of me. You'd bring me food and lay in my bed with me until I went to sleep. Every time, you'd say that you would go home once I was asleep, but I'd wake up in the morning with you curled up behind me."
"That's because I didn't have the heart to leave you. I always wanted to make sure that you were safe. I knew that a lot of drunk parents tended to treat their kids poorly, and I didn't want to see you get hurt."
"Well, thanks for protecting me, Dev. I appreciate it." I say, putting my hand on top of his.
He pulls his hand out from under mine and intertwines our fingers. We sit there in silence for a long time, until I rest my head against his shoulder and drift off to sleep.
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