“We’ll stay here for the night,” Rakan said, scanning the place.
I nodded and sat my backpack against the paint-flaking wall. Any comfort exited the building as soon as I set foot in it. The walls had been tagged with random symbols and warnings sprayed on the bare surface. I walked to the corner furthest from the entrance. Broken shelves housed a few books. Beneath me lay a sandy-lined carpet, red. It was a mosque, I realized. The holiness discarded these walls a long time ago. There were hundreds of these little mosques on highways, offering a haven for those wanting to pray while traveling and a place to rest. I returned to my backpack and plopped myself on the ground next to Plumpy’s cage. I checked his food and water bowl, still some left.
Deema sat an arm’s length from me. She pulled out some chocolate and chips from her backpack and offered me some. I rejected politely. As weak as I felt, as strongly my appetite was repulsed by any food. Deema insisted, and I took a few pieces to get her off my back. The food did me good, and a surge of energy spread through me. I didn't want to sleep, but my body was giving up on me. I rested my head on my backpack and pulled Rakan’s jacket closer; it smelled like him. It smelled like safety. My eyes closed as I was silently repeating, Malak we’re coming. We’re close. I dozed off.
◆◆◆
A scream violently yanked me out of my sleep. I opened my eyes, alarmed, and instantly hopped to my feet. It was Deema’s voice. Plumpy screeched. “What’s wrong?” I yelled.
“I felt something moving on my ankle!” Deema said, already a safe distance from the spot she had lain in.
Rakan was up and standing close. We leaned in, taking a closer look at a moving shadow.
“A scorpion?” I asked.
“It’s an Arabian thick-tallied scorpion,” Rakan said, hovering over it.
The scorpion had a thick tail, hence the name I assumed. It was dark brown, grainy and rough. “Venomous?” I asked.
“Lethal,” Rakan said, looking at Deema. “The tail can inject enough venom to kill.”
“Did it get you?” I asked Deema.
“No,” she said, checking herself. “I’m good.”
Rakan placed his phone down on the ground, positioning the flashlight to the ceiling. The light adumbrated our shadows on the walls, pushing the darkness. He moved in on the desert creature and stepped on it. He lifted his combat boot off the ground, revealing the squished aftermath.
“It can’t hurt anyone now,” Rakan said, stomping his foot on the ground. “You can sleep. I’ll stay up and keep guard.”
I plopped myself on the gritty ground. “I can’t sleep,” I said, thinking maybe I shouldn’t sit on the floor.
“Me neither,” Deema said, sighing and itching all over.
“Maybe we should keep moving,” I said, rubbing the rest out of my eyes. “I’ll take my risk with whatever is out there in the dark then whatever will still be out there, plus the sun.”
“Pack up,” Rakan said, not arguing.
I adjusted my sitting position, and a hard object in my pocket dug in my skin. The ring, I thought. I arched my body and pulled it out. It wasn’t the ring. It was the metal object I found at home. A copper-shaped bell. I flipped it in my hand, examining it; there were two parts of it chipped off, both at the bottom and the top, it connected to something. I’d seen this before. Where had I seen it? My blood froze when I realized it was on Rakan, on his badge holder. Engineer Rakan. I looked up at Rakan’s profile as he pulled out a bottle of water from his backpack. I found this before he and Faisal showed up to the house. Why was it there? One of them is lying.
“Rakan,” I said, getting on my feet.
“Sara.” He stood, seeming larger than ever before me.
“What is this?” I extended my hand with my palm wide open, the bell in the middle.
“What is that?” Deema said, bringing her head forward.
Rakan regarded the bell. His eyes grew wide, and he swallowed hard. “I can explain.”
“What is that?” Deema repeated, trying to get a better view of the object. My gaze was on Rakan’s eyes.
“Can we step outside?” Rakan said, his eyebrows lifting like he was trying to take a deep breath.
“Whatever it is, you can say it near Deema,” I said, dropping my hands to the side.
“What’s going on?” Deema said, putting on her glasses that were folded and hung on her crew neck top.
“Sara,” Rakan said calmly.
“Don't say my name like that.” I pulled out my gun and aimed it at Rakan. “Why were you in my house?”
“Sara!” Deema took a step back. “What are you doing?”
“They were in the house,” I said, nodding in his direction. “When we went out to come to get you from the hospital, they were inside my house.”
“Rakan?” Deema said. “Is this true?”
“It is,” Rakan said without hesitation.
“Why?” I asked.
“I was there looking for you.”
“You broke in?”
“Yes.” His replies were quick and straight. “Put down the gun.”
“Get out,” I said. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t breathe. I needed a minute.
“What?” Deema said. “We need him.”
“Get. Out,” I said.
“Sara.” He took a step closer. “Put the gun down.”
“Everything is a lie, so many secrets,” I said, my gun still on him. The gun started to shake in my hand. What was I doing? All I knew was I could only trust Deema.
“Lower the gun,” he said calmly, walking closer. “I will not lie to you.”
“Then tell me what’s going on,” I said, words barely escaping my mouth, a shiver blocking a steady posture.
“I did break in,” Rakan said, “but the place was already ransacked when we got there. Someone was there before.”
“I don't understand,” I said. “Why didn't you just tell me that?”
“I—” He paused for a second, thinking. “I was under the impression there was a traitor amongst you.”
“Under the impression?”
“I had orders to bring you in safe,” Rakan said. “Lower your gun, Sara.”
I stepped further, sweat trickling down my back. “You’re working with Faisal?”
“No,” Rakan said, eyes sharp on me. “Your dad sent me.”
“Under the impression?” I repeated.
“Our intelligence suggested that someone around you was tipping the organization off,” Rakan said. “You need to lower your gun, Sara.”
My mind splattered in all directions. Lies, lies, lies mixed with a single truth. Intelligence? Organization? Rakan stepped closer. With both hands, he clapped the head of the gun, sending it flying to the side. The gun snapped out of my grip and hit the ground. “Deema, don't move,” Rakan said, his focus on me.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“A soldier. Secret service.”
“You’re not an engineer?”
“No.”
“Is that why you were nice to me,” I said. “You were under orders?”
“No.” He stepped closer to me. “I compromised my mission by talking to you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I wasn’t supposed to talk to you at work. The mission was to monitor you from afar.”
“But we talked all the time.”
“I know.” He got closer.
“You lied to me.” I slammed my free hand on his chest.
“I didn't lie, Sara,” he said, stepping even closer. My body mirrored his tense movement.
“Really?” I pushed his chest harder.
“Sara.” He took a deep breath. “Stop, please.”
“I’m so stupid.” I extended my hand to push him once more.
In a swift move, he grabbed my arm, bent it, and pulled me toward him. He encrusted me with his body. His chest heaved heavily, pressing against my back.
“I… I care about you,” he whispered, wrapping his other arm aroun
d me. “You have to believe that.”
“Let go of me.” I squirmed.
He lifted both his arms in the air. “You need to believe me.”
I turned, facing him. “I don't know what to believe.” The jacket. His jacket. It was around me, touching me, lying to me. It suffocated me. I pulled it off and threw it at him with everything I had.
He caught it. “I have nothing to do with Malak’s disappearance.” He caught the jacket. “I was supposed to keep you two safe.”
“By bringing in the traitor,” Deema said.
“I miscalculated,” Rakan said, looking at her from the corner of his eye, his voice bouncing off the matte walls. “He’s my cousin, and he used that relationship as a blind spot.”
“Where is Malak?” I asked.
“I have reason to believe she is in the safe zone headquarter in Riyadh,” Rakan said. “I believe Faisal was telling the truth.”
“Let’s start walking,” I said, grabbing Plumpy and my gear and storming out into the darkness.
Traveling at night made us easy targets. All the animals had better night vision and speed. We were at a disadvantage from every angle. In the dark, it was like walking in space, like there was a layer over my eyes and ears, and the only way to make sure I was still on earth was gravity. But the day heat was not something we could bargain with either. So it was a Catch-22 any way you looked at it. I dragged my heavy feet on the solid ground. I glimpsed at my hand at the red, chipped-polish fingernails. It felt like months ago I was sitting with Malak in our living room, doing everyday stuff, like polishing our nails. Something about the bare land propelled you to uncover your fears and emotions. It seduced you to face the anger and the hurt. Is there something wrong with me? After walking till the predawn and pushing our limits close to fainting, we spotted a car. An old white pickup, a stack of firewood and boxes in the back. The front windows were busted and the others rolled down. Rakan did a quick sweep and hot-wired the car. We got into the truck, and soon we were speeding down the highway, going as fast as the danger was approaching.
We passed a sign smeared in blood, reading 40 km to Riyadh. The stars above us disappeared the closer we got to the capital’s borders. We’re close, Malak. We’re coming. After a ten-minute drive, we passed an abandoned inspection point right before the capital entrance. My blood thickened, weighing down my movements and slowing down my breathing. My jaw dropped as I tried desperately to take a breath. People were swinging by their necks from the light poles. The sun had risen, exposing the horror that could only be expected from the darkness. The dead bodies moved. Kicking. What are we driving into? It didn’t make sense, logic and survival would urge us to go back. The capital had a dense population compared to the Eastern Province, with over seven million people here, the chances of survival were going down the hourglass, ticking away hope. The infection could be spread wider and faster here. Malak, I reminded myself, she’s here. I’d already crossed half the path, and I had my eyes set on her. Nothing would stop me now until Malak was beside me. I turned to Deema, looking for a sign that everything would be okay, but worry and terror were all I got. We drove under the reanimated corpses. I sat in my seat, looking away. After passing countless bodies, there were no more. What was left of a gas station appeared on one side, burned to black debris, evidence of a car that drove through it, setting it on fire and leaving only death in its departure. We didn’t slow down. We drove around the cars; some cars had people still inside, trapped, moving, dead. Buildings with broken windows came into view. Had people tried to escape? Did they jump to their deaths? In the distance, the kingdom skyscraper stood into view with smoke rising from it. The skyscraper stood protesting in the orange sky, reflecting from the sun which emphasized its fiery appearance. I pulled myself closer to the window. The once-breathtaking Riyadh skyline was injured. Hurt. Attacked. Dying. The city was devoid of any light. We drove past the destruction, the tall buildings in the backdrop and abandoned shops perched in the street with shattered windows. We entered a tunnel, papers plastered on the walls, faces appearing in each paper. One paper had a “have you seen him” text in red. Those were walls of missing people. The thought sent a warning to every sense in my body, trying to convince me to return the way I had come from. I shuffled uneasily in my seat.
We made it to the building. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Thousands of the dead surrounded the building. There was a tall electric fence repelling wave after wave of crawling zombies. There were too many. How are we going to enter?
Chapter 46
Four towers shadowed the stampede of zombies. Behind the barbed wire fences stood a brick wall. Heavily armed soldiers walked back and forth over the wall, holding their fire, not shooting at the bodies beneath them that were waiting for one to slip and fall into their hands.
“We need to get close enough to the fence for someone to spot us,” Rakan said.
“Why don’t we drive through?” I asked.
“The windows,” Rakan reminded me. The thought of us sinking in zombies was unpleasant. “Plus, the noise will draw them to us, making it hard for anyone to assure safe passage for us.”
Over our head, the sky screamed with scavengers of crows and vultures. The smell of the dead attracted the swarm of birds that prey on dead corpses, confusing the birds. They were circling over the bodies that smelled dead yet refused to cease movement. These animals could eat diseased corpses without harming themselves. Their stomach contained highly acidic enzymes that rendered any virus harmless. But would their stomachs be able to kill this virus? If not, they would devour the infected flesh and spread the virus.
“You two are immune,” Deema said. “One of you should walk up to the gates.”
“No,” Rakan said. “Sara is not going anywhere.”
“You’re not either,” I said. “We don't know for sure what our bodies can or can’t do, and the number of zombies is too high.”
The rubber tires hissed as they rolled us closer to the zombies. Rakan cut the engine. A zombie stood a few steps away from us, leaning on a broken-down car, unable to move. His gut was busted open, and undigested flesh spilled out. The zombie continued to feed, gnawing on a piece of a limb as he moaned demonically with every chew. None of the other zombies were close to this loner. The acid in my stomach burned my throat at the sight.
“A stupid question,” Deema said, “but if we smell like them, will they attack us?”
“What do you mean smell like them?” I turned to her.
“If we don’t smell like us.”
“What?”
“If we cover ourselves with their intestines and organs would they be able to detect us?” Deema asked. May probably knows the answer to that. Knew.
“I guess it could work. They would think you’re infected,” Rakan said.
“So, it could work?” Deema asked.
Rakan paused for a few seconds. “I’ll do it.”
“Like hell, you are,” I blurted out. I had never spoken to Rakan in such a tone.
He studied me. “Sara,” he said in a soft voice.
“Not alone,” I corrected.
“You’ll come with me?” He leaned closer.
“I’m going to get my sister,” I said. “Deema, there’s no need for you to tag along. I’ll make sure they come for you. Plumpy stays.”
Rakan rolled the plan around in his head and nodded. “Wait here,” he said, and before I could argue, he was out the door. With wide steps, he walked straight to the zombie next to the car, and a few zombies passed him but did not react. They were too eager to join the big gathering behind the fence. Not batting an eye, Rakan brought down the knife on the half-zombie skull. He crouched down and pulled out the corpse’s fillings. My stomach turned. I looked away, blocking a cough that was pushing up vomit. He walked back; the stench arrived before he did. I opened the door and went out. We covered ourselves with the dead man’s insides.
“If they can’t pick up our scent, this could work,” I said
, breathing through my mouth. “I hope this works.”
Rakan stood in front of me and wiped his index finger on my forehead and cheeks, gazing into my eyes. He said nothing. Don't fall for him. He lied to you. But I couldn’t control my organs. My heart skipped a beat. I didn’t know if the feeling in my tummy was butterflies, or if I was going to be sick from the decaying black goo on my face.
Rakan’s eyes dilated and his cheeks blushed, revealing an authentic expression. He reached out and laced his hand in mine. I didn't resist. I held on to him tightly. I felt safe. Don't let go. We started walking, making our way between the stray dead with rotten skin covering the bodies. They were stuck to wander our physical world. They didn't belong here. The sour odor made me gag. Breathe through your mouth. We maneuvered around them, their eyes black of any life, or hope. But they were driven by an objective, a smell. Gaps between them opened up like they were clearing a room for death himself walking on earth, searching for clarification. Rakan sped up and looked back, pressing my fingers firmly. Don't let go. Zombies in front of me stopped and sniffed out a scent as their heads tilted up. They sensed something didn't belong. Something was still breathing; a heart was beating. Failing to locate or identify it, they ignored it and continued walking. My phone fell from my pocket and hit the ground. I tried to pick it up but, it was kicked by the shuffling feet and vanished under us. No. Mom. Her voice was on it. The last message she sent me.
“Up there,” Rakan said in a voice matching our steps. Six men spotted, pacing over the walls, patrolling. Prepared for anything.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Rakan said. The foulness in my mouth ruined any chance of me feeling anything at that moment. He narrowed his gaze locking them on mine. “I’ll get you and Malak that piña colada.”
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