“That's not all. The other man was your father, Sara,” Faisal said. “The other girl was you.”
“What do you mean the other girl was me?”
“You are patient zero,” Faisal said.
“You’re saying my dad did this?” My brain flooded with so many questions it made me stutter. “What do you mean patient zero?”
“You were the first human this pathogen was used on,” Faisal said. “The virus was engineered to bring dead cells and neurons back to life.”
“You’re not infected,” Deema said to me. “Your eyes didn't change.”
“No, she’s not infected,” Faisal said. “The virus that was administrated on her was something different. They took that virus and created a strain that brought back more than cells. It evolved into this.”
“You were sitting on this the whole time,” Rakan said.
“Why was I injected with the cure? What was wrong with me?” I said, my hands shaking.
“You were dying.” Faisal said. “Your organs were failing, but you were in the early stages of the disease.”
“I was a healthy kid. I never got sick.” My head felt light. “I never got anything.”
“Sara,” Faisal said, looking at me. “I had no choice. My objective was to bring you in safely.”
“Why do they want her?” Deema probed him.
“Her blood,” Faisal said. “Whatever is in her blood makes the zombies not a threat to her. That's what I know.”
“Malak?” I said. “Why did they take Malak?”
“Sara, you have to believe me,” Faisal pleaded, a tear in his eye. “That, I don't know.”
Rakan walked up to Faisal and shoved him with little strength. I took another step. Faisal fell to the ground, face up. He placed his hand on his injured arm. He leaned to his side and started coughing and throwing up blood, a pool of red thick goo mixed with sand.
“I deserve that,” Faisal said in between coughs, “but I have nothing to do with Malak’s disappearance.”
“You’re working for them,” I screamed. My body tensed. Them, them, them. What is wrong with me?
“I lost contact with them days ago,” Faisal said, wiping the blood off his mouth with his sleeve. “I never told them where we were going.”
“Where are they?” I asked. Malak is with them.
“The safe zone in Riyadh,” Faisal said. “It's the headquarter.”
Rakan returned to the car. “Let’s go.” Deema shrugged and walked behind him. I looked at Faisal. That's what he was hiding. Everything rushed at me at once. May dead. Mom dead. Mary dead. Malak missing. Dad a liar? Did he save me? Everything I ever knew collapsed around me. The life I once knew was over. The virus was in me. I am the virus. I looked down at my wrist; every vein in me was full of this mutation. In me, through me, circling my body. An urge to scratch came up—my wrist was itchy, my hands were itchy, my skin was itchy. But this wasn’t something new. This was something that had been with me my whole life. I never got sick. I didn't remember ever getting a fever like Malak, never got a cough like Mom, never got a stomachache like May or Deema, a headache like Dad. What am I?
Faisal approached me seconds before entering the car.
“Sara,” Faisal whispered, blood on his breath like the smell of rust. “You have no reason to believe me, but one of them is lying. The numbers in blood were a code. A confirmation that they got what they were looking for. I didn’t leave a message, and that confirmation was not for me.”
Chapter 43
AC quietly blowing in the car, no one uttered a word. Not even Plumpy wanted to talk. A phantom of betrayal sitting among us as another passenger. I lost my mom, my brother, Mary, and one of my best friends in a few days. How much more pain could a person take? No. Think of Malak. I pulled myself out of it. I needed to focus on finding her. The thought of getting her back kept me going. The reality of losing her was a hole I could not fall into, ’cause if I did, I would never crawl out. One of them is lying. Was Faisal trying to play mind games? Was he trying to mess with my head?
An agonizing scream erupted. Like fingernails ripping down a chalkboard. The car swerved, throwing me to the side, and my shoulder crashed into the door to the sound of the brakes howling a sharp screech.
“Get out of the car!” Rakan yelled, pulling over to the side of the road. He opened the door and jumped out. Deema cupped her head and jumped out. I grabbed the cage and followed. I stood next to the car, glaring in.
“What?” I asked, catching my breath.
“What happened?” Deema asked.
“There’s something wrong with Faisal.” Rakan backed away from the car. I mirrored his steps. Deema’s jaw slacked as she stared through the glass divider. Rakan locked his eyes on Faisal, who sat buckled under his seat belt, spasming. His eyes rolled back. Both his palms stretched out, hitting the windshield. His pupils rolled back down, piercing blue with blood oozing out of his sockets, his lips a pale purple as he struggled to swallow as if a lump stuck in his throat blocked his vocal cords.
“He’s infected,” I said.
“No, that can’t be. I checked him myself,” Deema said as she turned away. “Could it be that the virus went airborne?”
“Almass,” I said. Connecting the dots. Almass’s eyes. There were no bite marks.
“What about her?” Deema asked.
“Something bit her too.”
“What?” Deema said, placing her hands on her head. “No, I checked her for bite marks. She was clean.”
“Not a human,” I said, “some kind of bug. Almass had a red bump on her cheek. Both her and Faisal were itching from a bug bite.”
“That is not possible,” Deema said, her hands still over her head.
“There’s more,” I said. “When we left the hotel, her eyes changed. She was exposed to the virus. I think she’s immune.”
“A mosquito?” Rakan asked. I shrugged.
“Why are you holding your head?” I asked Deema.
“My head slammed into the window with the turn,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” Rakan said. She nodded.
Faisal became more aggressive, demanding we release him with his movements. He was unaware of his surroundings; he didn’t grasp the concept of objects and obstacles in his way. All he saw was us as a deadly predator, smelling us, tasting us.
“What are we gonna do?” I asked.
“I'll take care of this,” Rakan said. He paused, thinking for a moment.
“Deema,” I said, “if this can be transmitted by bugs, what does this mean?”
She frowned. “Nothing good.”
“Is your head okay?”
“It will be.”
I turned my attention to Rakan who was staring at Faisal with soft expressions, regret. “Are you okay?” I asked him.
“I need to take care of this,” he repeated twice in a robot voice, shifting his gaze to his holster.
“What are you gonna do?” I asked.
He took a deep breath. “You need to go around the car and stand on the other side.” He pulled his gun out. “I’ll open Faisal’s door and lure him out of the car.”
We followed his instructions. Rakan’s body movements tensed. He closed his eyes and whispered something under his breath then quickly opened the door. I looked away. The gunshot echoed the endless desert surface dying out in the distance. Rakan carried Faisal from the asphalt ground and laid him down on the sand. Only his dead feet were visible from where I stood. I remained far away. Rakan went to the car and grabbed a piece of cloth from the door and placed it over Faisal’s face. “We have to leave.”
We climbed into the car. Without a discussion, I sat in the front next to Rakan. The side mirror reflected Faisal’s motionless body. He saved my life. We drove away, Faisal’s body flat on the sand, shrinking in the background. After driving for less than thirty minutes, I spotted a shiny object pulled across the road. Rakan hit the brakes as hard as he could. We ran right over the strip, sending the car to spin out of
control and making the car shake to a full stop.
“What was that?” I said, one hand clutching the seat belt, the other on the door
Rakan swung the door open and exited the car. He walked around the car and knelt down, examining the tires. He came back around next to my window. I rolled the window down.
“The tires are deflated.” Rakan ran both hands through his hair.
“What was that?” I said.
“Road spikes,” he said.
“Someone put that there on purpose,” Deema said, “to stop cars.”
“Maybe it was a warning,” I said.
“All tires are down. We can’t stay here,” Rakan said. “We gotta move.”
Chapter 44
With every cautious step we took, it furthered us from hope. Danger surrounded us, and the threat was no longer only zombies. With nothing but a desert stripped of vegetation from all directions, we were forced to slowly abandon optimism as options evaporated into despair. Drowning in a sea of sand, dust layered our skin. We covered what we could of our faces with our tops to shield ourselves from the extreme temperature that fell on our heads, sweat crystallizing with the rays the sun sent, and making every step a challenge. Even breathing became an effort. My lungs felt ashy as if I was inhaling smoke. The hard, parched asphalt under us emitted heat back at us as if there were sides and the ground had already decided the sun was the winning side.
“We need to stay hydrated,” Rakan said.
“Piña colada,” I said.
“What?” Deema asked, gasping for air.
“That’s Malak’s favorite.” I smiled, wiping off sweat from my forehead. “That’s what I’m gonna get her when this is over. With one of those mini umbrellas.”
“Blue,” Rakan said, taking a deep breath.
“Blue?” I asked, sweat working so hard to cool down my body but failing.
“My mini umbrella will be blue.” Rakan’s cheeks dimpled, and he adjusted his backpack, his forehead glistening under the sun.
“Gray,” I said.
“I don’t want a piña colada,” Deema said, moving the bird’s house handle from one hand to the other. “I want a nonfat, sugar-free vanilla mocha Frappuccino, with those chocolate chips and extra whip, drizzled with chocolate sauce and caramel.”
I had to stop and stare at her. “Oh wow, you’re one of those people,” I said and tried not to blink. Deema giggled and stepped ahead while Rakan and I fell behind, together.
“Gray?” Rakan said. “Your favorite color?”
He was trying to distract me. I was not sure how long he could. “I guess.” I stopped and brought my backpack around, pulling a bottle of water out. I took a sip, and the warm, soft liquid tickled my throat under the venomous sun, sending poison with its light entering my body and releasing sweat that stung as it moved down my skin.
“Would you mind?” Rakan came around and stood in front of me. I fell under his tall shade. A cool breeze blew over my damped forehead.
“Sorry?”
“If I carried your bag for a while?”
“No,” I said, throwing the strap over my shoulder. “I’m fine.”
“I insist,” he said and gracefully placed his fingers under the strap, lifting the weight off my shoulder.
“Thank you,” I said and looked into his eyes. My face flushed, and not just from the sun that stalked us.
“Don’t thank me,” Rakan said. “Not until we’re all safe with Malak, having our drinks.”
I smiled and followed Deema, who didn’t get far. Plumpy was looking for his new desert melody. The weather was unpredictable. Additional heat was created from the sunlight reflecting off the golden sands. Looking around, it was like we were stuck in a loop. No matter how much we walked, the background rotated itself, chased us and repositioned us back to square one. In the horizon, the wind picked up speed and lifted layers of sand from the distance, pushing in our direction. We were swimming in an endless wave of sand. My vision was obstructed, making it hard to navigate, but we pushed through, keeping the soles of our shoes on the asphalt. The ground was our only lifeline, despite it refusing to cool down. Sweat droplets ran down my back, and my shirt clung onto my skin. We walked, hoping to find a vehicle before death found us.
After hours of wandering and only stopping to rest a few times, the sun dipped low, casting more than shade our way. A glimpse of hope.
“Are unicorns real?” I said, staring at the unwinding yellow lines on the road beneath me. “I mean could they be? And if they are real, does that mean there are zombie unicorns. Oh no that’s disturbing.”
“You’re hallucinating,” Deema said.
“I’m not saying I’m seeing unicorns if that’s what you mean by hallucinating,” I said. “Why? Are you seeing them?”
Rakan stopped. “We have company,” he said.
"Now look who's hallucinating," I said.
“They’re coming,” Rakan said.
“Who?” Deema asked, looking around.
“The dead,” he said.
I paused and scanned the area. No visible landmarks, everything looked the same. It was the same repetitive view. I couldn’t see anything. Nothing but forever sand.
Deema giggled nervously. “Are you kidding? Where are they?”
He pointed down the road. “If we go down there, we’ll hit them soon.”
“What other choice do we have?” I asked.
“We'll never make it off-road,” Deema said. She was right; we needed to follow the Yellow Brick Road.
“Stay alert,” Rakan said, marching forward. “They’re coming.”
The temperature fell like it was worried or scared. Something is coming. Being surrounded by nothing but sand sent an eerie feeling, as if this was our grave, and the sand would soon devour us completely, so we could rest indefinitely. The desert doesn't give, it takes. It takes everything from you, your body, your mind, your security, your sanity, and it won’t stop there. It will go after the tracks your feet leave behind, evidence of your existence, of your being. The sand takes. We walked, my lungs ashier, the clothes on my back rasping against my sweat dry skin. There were no signs of zombies. Could he have been mistaken? Maybe the intensity was getting to us. Not long after, I vaguely made out figures of zombies dragging themselves toward us, slowly pulling their weight.
“How did you see them?” I asked. Rakan shrugged.
One of the zombie’s feet was oddly pointed out. His anklebone was outward, poking through the flesh. That did not slow its pace. They stumbled toward us. Another zombie was half-naked and what was worse, was that he was half-eaten. Dozens of bite marks on his flesh. I hadn’t seen zombies attacking their own. Those bites could be perimortem. I counted the herd, two on the right, one on the left, and the one in the middle.
Rakan pulled the gun out of his holster. He looked at ease, not blinking, holding the gun so perfectly it was as if the gun was customized for him alone. He took a few wide steps forward, his attention on the herd. He paused, aimed, and shot. Bang bang bang. The gunshots were rapid, loud. It rumbled in the still, desert air. He glanced back at us. “Are you alright?”
The zombies dropped with a thud. We nodded. Once gunshots would have scared me frozen, but not anymore. The sound now signaled my survival. Life.
“This could be good news,” Rakan said.
“What?” Deema asked. “How?”
“They came from somewhere,” Rakan said. “A village? Or maybe there’s a car close by.”
We picked up our things and pushed forward. Night fell on us. The wind wailed and the streetlights turned on. We continued our path, searching for a vacant vehicle. Deema took the lead.
“I’m sorry about Faisal,” I said, not knowing what else to add. I couldn’t believe he’d hidden that and was working with what I could only classify as the enemy. But he saved my life, and he was Rakan’s blood.
“Thank you,” he said, keeping his attention on Deema.
Somewhere a wolf howled, echoin
g off in the distance. Sounds moved in a peculiar way with no barriers blocking it. A light pole in proximity flickered. I thought things like this conveniently happened in movies. But I now think they happen all the time; we just perceive it differently when we are scared. I tried to ignore it. Sounds in the distance grew louder. Vulnerability tightened its grip on me. We were exposed out there. I looked over my shoulder, reassuring myself that nothing was walking behind us, following us. Lurking in the shadows, waiting to attack.
“There’s nothing there,” Rakan said.
“I know,” I confirmed to myself. “I’m just checking.” I needed to check, I needed to reassure my fear that nothing was behind us. But with every step I took, I sensed death hanging over us.
“I understand,” he said.
“How did you see them?” I asked, a slight shiver trickled through to my stomach.
“I don't know.”
“Is this another skill from the bite?” I asked.
“I am not sure what this is.” Rakan glanced at me. “You’re cold.”
“No,” I lied.
“Your temperature dropped.”
“How—”
He slipped off his jacket and stopped in front of me. I froze, looking into his eyes. He wrapped it around me, turned around, and started walking. “We shouldn't stop too long.”
Chapter 45
Amoonless sky haunted by thousands of stars. Stars that are long gone, dead. Their light still shining, wandering the galaxy, sending out a beacon, notifying anything that sees the light of their previous locations. I had never seen so many stars before. It was beautiful. The sound of the wind whistling pulled me to reality. That is what the desert did to you, it lured you in with promises of beauty then it took you without warning. A brown, muddy building came into view. In isolation it peaked, engulfed by nothingness, collapsing in on itself. It stood a couple of dozen steps off the main highway. The thought of stepping off the asphalt was uncomfortable. Like we were parting ways with our guide. The only guide that could get us out of this beautiful graveyard. The structure drew us in, thinking it would be a good place to rest and maybe sleep. A good place would be a stretch, but it was the best option as far as the eye could see, even Rakan’s eye. We stepped in. Two glass windows hung on either side of the four-walled, single-story structure. A big, eerie room. Empty, humble, modest. The glass windows were covered by layers and layers of dust, making it impossible to see through. Over us, part of the ceiling was missing. It crumpled with the weight of time. The ceiling arched like a dome. How long had this place been deserted?
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