We amble our way to my car. On some houses, I can already see the zombies start to lollop out of their houses. A handful of them start to run at us, but my car growls and veers off toward the road.
Everything seems to be falling apart. I can’t seem to recollect anything normal since Georgia and I last kissed. It’s all been implacable and despondent misery. I try to dig for the jewel of hope and carefully excavate it out of some rare mine, but all I find are bones. I reach and reach the tallest amorphous tree and then it whispers something into reality. A glimmering, heart-shaped silver necklace. Georgia’s necklace. The ultimate emblem of hope.
The tree whispers, “Find it, you foolish child. Find it for all it’s worth, or the world will find you and slaughter you. Find your foolish comfort, you foolish child. Because that's all you can do.”
The tree disappears and I am suddenly transported back to the withering heat of my car next to Mira. I have to go back to that casino. And I have to find Georgia. That necklace is going to be mine.
“Where are we going?” Mira asks.
“We’re staying at a hotel for a while.”
“Oh.” Mira doesn't speak much.
A few minutes later I hear a strange grumbling sound coming from Mira. Sounds similar to how my stomach would rumble when dad stole long road trips to his nighttime business parties and had to drag everyone along. My fingers stifle a bit, Dad. He is probably in the city somewhere, infected and wandering aimlessly. Maybe he's searching for me or maybe he's searching for his next victim.
“You hungry?” I ask her.
We stop by Big Aze gas station and enter the convenience store. We stock up on as many snacks as we can horde into our arms and began eating. The cashier had fled, so it was completely empty. But Mira reminds me to put some money left on the counter just in case.
“I just don’t see the point,” I remark. “The cashier will never cash it in. He's gone.”
“How would you feel if your stuff was stolen just because you weren’t there? Like what if they took your sword thingies,” says Mira pointing referentially at the katanas. So I laid a 20. Mira seemed satisfied enough, which is all that mattered.
We sit in front of the store taking in our hoard. The sun is setting and the evening is a dazing heliotrope blue patched with orange-pink clouds. Mira is gawking at the sky with complete fidelity, munching on a Kit Kat bar, and to my surprise, she’s shaking.
“Are you cold?” I ask solicitously.
Mira covers her body with her arms. “A little.”
I hold her in my arms, covering her up as best as I can. I can feel her lukewarm breath filming my goosebumps. And then she asks me, “What’s it like to die?”
“How the hel—I mean, I don’t know. I’ve never died.” And I don’t think I’ll ever consider it. “Why do you ask?”
“I’m thirsty,” Mira says, evading the question. She grabs a Sprite from her nearby pile. Like I mentioned before, she’s a strange girl, but we continue to conversate about our lives. In the span of ten minutes, I figure out Mira had a crush on schoolmate Jonathan Holloway, and that she doesn’t like barbie dolls and the color pink. In fact she doesn’t like girly stuff at all. But what’s most interesting is her fears.
“Black Thunderclouds and lightning,” she whispers to me. “They remind me of bad things. It’s like I’m going to die.”
We eat in silence after that. Mira really loves talking about death.
A white truck approaches us and the doors slam.
Two sporty high school boys, seventeen, around my age swagger toward us smirking at each other. They’re carrying silver pistols. Where the hell did they get those from?
I get up and hold my katana out at them like I’m pointing a long silver finger. Mira is hidden behind me, but she’s intently observing the scene. My hands feel sweaty, and it’s not because of the heat.
“Woah there! Hold up, we just hear to talk,” says the first boy.
He appears to be the leader. He has a mane of blonde hair and a bitter mischievous look about him. The other one has shorter dirtier blonde hair and he seems to be genuinely uncomfortable about this invasion. But either way, they look like bullies. No, worse. Affluent bullies. I’ve met their kind in high school. The rich wealthy kids who live up north in Palvalla. They seem to think they’re superior to everyone else and can take what they want from people because they come from rich families. Most of them migrate from Scottsdale. Typical.
“What do you want?” I say flatly. The katana is shimmering eagerly.
“This,” says the first boy doing a wide-armed gesture at the store. “We want you to move. It’s our store now.”
“Let go of it, Iver,” says the second boy. “This isn’t our fight. And we don’t want any more trouble anyway. Remember what almost happened at the last store?”
“Yeah, and who relinquished that, I suppose?” Iver mutters irritably. “You’re too soft, Hall. Those people should’ve been taught a lesson.”
Iver clicks his revolver and points it straight at the heart of my chest. “Looks like we’re gonna have to do this the hard way, Asian lady.”
“Maybe. But I’d watch out for my crew in the back. They’re in there and they’re feeling pretty cranky.”
Iver grins ravenously. But momentarily, his grin oscillates. “I only see you and that little girl.”
I smirk back. “Then go inside cracker boy.”
Hall holds Iver’s shoulder admonishingly. He whispers something in his ears and he frowns. His wolfish eyes consider me for a moment and then he relinquishes his gun.
“Don't grin just yet. We'll be back.”
The two thugs leave and I’m left to heave a great sigh.
“Were they criminals?” Mira asks, shivering uncontrollably.
“Something like that. Let’s get in the car before they change their mind.”
We leave the gas station and rumble back down the road.
The two thugs run through my mind. What’s the reason for raiding stores? Are they just taking the opportunity because of the disease and chaos running rampant in the city? I can’t imagine living like that. Raiding store after store. It must be draining and utterly pathetic. What? Has daddy’s money not been enough for you? At this point, they’re desperately looking for somebody else to threaten.
We’re on the main road and I see a bunch of small stores, motels, salons, and taco restaurants whiz by. Suddenly it’s nothing but a dry desert cactus field zooming by me when I blink. The sun has become blood red and is halfway through sinking under the mountain. I wonder where Mira will go once this is all over. Who will be her new parental guardians? Will she ever have a normal childhood again? Maybe she can stay with me for the rest of her life. Yeah…that doesn’t so bad.
“Hey Mira, how would it sound if I looked after you like full time? Ya know…until your parents come back and all.”
Hissing silence. I glance at the passenger seat. “Mira?”
Mira’s makeup is gruel white and her big gray eyes are hanging still. She’s stopped shaking. In fact, she’s stopped moving altogether. My face drops as I frantically try to wake her up. She can't be. No way. Not my little sister. A well of tears begins to gush out of my eyes as I rattle her body.
“Wake up, Mira! Wake up!”
With vain, superfluous effort, I try to blow on her mouth to see if she’ll breathe back. But the truth has already been unfolded long ago. I was just too clumsy to not see it. I open her shirt and see the tiny claw marks that are bleeding thoroughly across her body.
It turns out Mira was never cold, she was bitten.
Being scratched by these zombies is synonymous with being bitten, which automatically gets you infected. The tally for them has been unmatched. So far they can bite, claw, and run. What else can they do?
And as for the people that have been infected. I’ve been seeing more adults turn than kids. I carefully think back. Mira was accidentally scratched so she’s out of the picture. Georgia got infected out of nowhere. My mom was infected out of nowhere. Fabian was infected out of nowhere. Everyone in that casino couldn’t have been sick and yet they were all infected.
It seems that this supernatural disease comes with an age limit. An age limit that no one can control. Who's to say when it starts and when it ends?
I gently hold Mira’s body and lay it on the side of the road. I lay her eyelids shut like I’m closing down a tainted flower petal and slide the katana through her skull.
“I hope you find your mother and father,” I tell her, wiping away the vestige of my tears and I saunter back to my car to take on the lonely road.
I don’t dare look back at the fallen angel lying on the heated road.
Comments (0)
See all