by Nunn, Alexis
I winced. It was a life or death situation. We had to kill that one or else I would’ve soon been like it. I never realized it would cause such a problem. Robert had to clean up that mess for us.
“They found us. They must smell your scent. We are prey,” Feliks added. He hopped down off the couch, “And they must smell me too. That might be a beacon to them. A mix of werebie and prey. Confusion. Of course they’d wander close. That explains the sneezing. Something has been tickling my nose the past days, but I thought it was just dust from this house.”
“You smelled the werebies.”
Fadiyah and he nodded, agreeing with the postulation.
The girl scratched her arm, “That’s also the thing. Robert knows Feliks is still around. He thinks that’s why they are still around. They would’ve left earlier, instead of circling around here. They are always scared off by the nighttime fire. But something is worth them staying around. And Robert knows that,” Her shoulders dropped. She gave my brother a sad gaze. “Robert knows you are here. Most of the paw prints concentrate behind this house in particular.”
I hung my head, “What are we going to do? My ankle is too sore for Feliks and I to run off on our own, and Feliks is dead out by himself.”
“Hey!”
I put my finger up to his mouth to hush him. He nipped at it. I sighed, “Fadiyah… If Robert finds Feliks… He’ll kill him.”
I wanted to cry at the thought, but my body was low on available tears.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Don’t worry. Robert says he wants you to go with him on scouting missions. I guess it’s to test your faith and loyalty to our little clan. Our clan of,” she paused to count, “five.”
I sighed loudly, more of a groan than a sigh really. I hated the guy, well despised, and the thought of trekking around and risking life and limb just didn’t seem worth it. Fadiyah was right. I had to be a team player. If I didn’t I could say bye-bye to this house.
I trusted she was right about Feliks being safe and she was for the most part. She left to go fix dinner for Lilya and Robert while I ate some peaches and Feliks ate a bag of walnuts. It was like a pre-bedtime show watching him frantically holding the walnut between his paws and hoping no teeth stuck and wiggled loose. It seemed both worth it and melodramatic at the same time. Afterwards, we went to our respective beds.
It wasn't long that we stayed separate. I heard the clicking of his claws on the hardwood floor, even noticing it approaching my door slowly. It didn’t take long to realize what he was up to. I stayed still, falling asleep when I felt his weight join the foot of the bed. I fell into a calm dream as he maneuvered himself up to be beside me to rest.
EIGHT
After about a week and a half, I could stand on my own. Nonetheless the dull wisp of pain lingered but it was nothing at that point. Couldn't stay confined for too long, Robert warned. To him everything was a bad survival habit. It was ridiculous to view this as some zombie doomsday movie all the time. We had running water. Our society still functioned. With that, I'm sure both Canadian and American governments were running. The countries might be behind walls or under strict security to protect them, but if I wanted, I could probably find an open Wal-Mart if I walked far enough. We weren't totally in a dystopia, we just had werebies running amuck outside our doors.
We had to be extra careful, but we weren't helpless. Hell, our one phone still worked; we had electricity. The provider still worked. No one seems to want to pick up when we try and every call gets cancelled, but I'm sure it'd connect if answered. I'm sure. Maybe not 100 percent but I'm pretty sure. I did miss the Internet. Not one computer existed here that worked. Our little village just happened to be too remote, surrounded by an extensive forest. Old-school tight-knit kind of place. All previous inhabitants fled or were changed (and disposed of). Robert's family lived here to begin with. They never left.
It made me curious about who lived here before us. This house did not have much square footage, but had two bedrooms. There was one bathroom, a kitchen, living room, and a storage room that seemed to act as a garage. The bedroom I chose apparently belonged to someone my age. I deduced this by the light blue walls and hot rod posters across the back wall. The dresser contained long sleeve plaid shirts, or flannels, or jeans that were all a little too big for me. Plus few pair of women's flared jeans but male boxers. I assumed this was once a boy's room, but a girl was not ruled out. Who knows? My room used to be a lot like this anyway, minus the few novelty magazines I found in the closet.
The other bedroom must have been the master bedroom. Pinkish lavender walls surrounded me, and I couldn't stand the sight. The walls did not match the dark green floral curtains at all. Must be old people style. However I did find three large boxes full of cassettes and a rack full of vinyl records. On top of a dark dresser, rested a reddish music player. The top lid lifted to reveal a record player (three speeds: 45, 33, and 78), the front facing panel held a cassette deck, and finally, at the bottom there was a CD player. This couple must not have focused on CD's much, seeing as I could only find two Christmas playlists in the room and nothing else. The clothes weren't anything worth nabbing. I preferred the teen's clothes unless I would like some nice, broad shoulder pads.
After Fadiyah came to visit for the day, I politely requested her assistance in moving the record/cassette/CD player to my room. It'd just be troublesome to wander in there whenever I wanted music. I dragged the cassette boxes behind her and placed them on the now cleared off desk at the foot of the bed. I played the records, mostly classic rock albums and fifties rock and roll. Then, I moved on to the cassettes. They used to be fans of Elton John, I could see. One entire box was only his albums and singles. The other boxes were a mix of rock of all decades, 90's alternative, or typical mainstream bands. No country, thankfully. I hated country.
I should tell Feliks some of his bands were in here. He loved his 90's alternative. Anyone could tell when he was a human. He used to resemble a certain famous grunge musician and his music taste reflected it. Fitting enough, that band was in the third box. I liked that music too, of course, not saying anything negative about it. I just found it funny.
I found CDs in my room. Mostly rock or soft alternative music. There were several albums of Smashing Pumpkins, whose singer had a style I found to be very unique and refreshing. I loved it. One French artist I never heard of before, too. I liked those CDs as well. Good music.
I told Feliks about the music and he eagerly jumped about my bed, waiting for me to play the songs. He couldn't work it himself. A dog can't use a cassette player.
"Why are you waiting?" He whined, "It's been eras since I listened to good music!"
I chuckled, opening the plastic case to a Nirvana cassette. Then I slid the cassette into the deck and let it play. Feliks happily bobbed his head to the guitars. I heard the songs hum while studying the iconic album art. After that, I changed the cassette to another band of similar genre. I personally loved these bands.
I rambled to myself as Feliks rolled about on my bed, enjoying the cassette. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, smiling brightly.
I remembered a time once like this before. I sat in my desk chair, watching my older brother lying on his stomach and reading a book. My CD player rang out behind us. Almost parallel to us now. Just more troubled and less human.
"You staring at me weird?" Feliks queried.
I shook my head as my reply which made my brother change his original statement, "No never mind. It's not a question. You are staring at me weird."
I denied it again with a shake of my head. Feliks faced his paw pad up and wiggled his head as a confused shoulder raise, "I think I would know."
"No you wouldn't. Nope," I replied stoutly and covered my mouth. I kept a stubbornly straight face.
"I think I know. I do. I do know."
"Nah."
He plopped down and crisscrossed his paws over the bridge of his muzzle, "Difficult child."
And to that I nodded.
NINE
Lilya tugged on the cassette case, trying to pry it open instead of lifting on the lid. I softly took it out of her hands before she broke it and showed her once again how the cases opened. She flipped it open, then closed, and repeat.
Feliks rolled himself up in a blanket, watching me with the insufferable child. I turned away from her for a second and heard a creaky snap. From the corner of my peripherals, I saw her gazing at me with the big black eyes she’d need to grow into.
“You broke it?” I asked her, raising my eyebrows.
Her lip trembled and she held it out towards me. I took it away then popped the lid back into place, “It’s fixable, see? You are alright.”
I pet her dark hair with a calming smile. She ventured to smile back and took the case into her hands. She did not open it or play with it, just reassured herself she had caused no drastic damage.
She placed it carefully into the box and climbed up on the bed with Feliks. As she tried to braid his fur, I changed the 45 record. I chose a classic and placed the needle down on the rim. The song started up, spinning in an oddly hypnotic swirl. The label turned on the center and Lilya got up to stare at it. We both warned her not to touch. Lilya might scratch a record after all, and those are hard to replace.
With the child entertained, I hopped up on the bed with Feliks. He rolled around the face me, paws up in the air.
He spoke up, quoting Jukebox Hero as it played, the classic by Foreigner.
I finished the lyrics and nodded solemnly. The tone of my words were awkward, not fitting the atmosphere at all. I broke with a sharp laugh, ducking down onto the bed beside him. He waved his paws and laughed with me. I loved this song.
I reached over and stole the blanket from Feliks. He nipped it and rolled across the bed, effectively stealing it back.
“Not fair, Fel! You have fur! I’m the one who needs the blanket,” I groaned. He shook his head.
“I’m the oldest, I am obligated to said blanket.”
I scoffed, “That’s not even the right word, you doofus.”
I tore the blanket away. He flopped down on top of me, his ribs pressing down on my stomach. It forced the wind out of me, “Goddamn you, Feliks, get off!”
“If I can’t have the blanket, we share the blanket!”
“Then get off!”
Lilya stomped her foot, “Children! Stop fightin’. Not nice.”
We paused our siblings’ quarrel. I shrugged, “Our queen hath spoken.”
Feliks laid off to the side of me, cuddling up underneath the comforter. His ears swooped down, sad the song was over. If we waited long enough, the arm would swing back over and play the song again, so we were good. The song, like predicted, restarted and I sat up.
Lilya giggled in that innocent way only children can. We both directed our attention towards her. She had a small grin upon her face and her hands clasped together.
“You remind me of Xavier. He lived here,” Bingo, it was a boy, “And he was nice. I liked him.”
I nodded, accepting what she was saying, “And why do I remind you of Xavier?”
“You’re tall and your hair is all spiky like his was. But his was longer,” She determinedly put her hands on her hips, “I always said his hair was a mess!”
I snorted, quickly covering my mouth, “Oh. Did Xavier’s family leave?”
“Yes but no. Grandpa said they are gone but they stayed like us. Everybody went running off into the big cities but they stayed. But they’re are all gone now.”
That meant one thing then. I felt like pouting, feeling horrible about this kid. Feliks whined softly, “How long ago did they go away?”
“A few days before you came,” She replied.
That cat we were greeted by when we first arrived must have been one of the infected family members or the original. Either way, Xavier and his family are definitely dead. Deceased.
“Xavier was your friend?”
She nodded, her lips pulling down at the corners.
“I’m so sorry,” Feliks whispered. She poked her index fingers, in an odd contemplation. Her demeanor dropped, more mature and soft.
“That’s how things go, Grandpapa says. My mom is gone like he is. But he says I’ll see them all again someday. With this fancy guy named God in his big palace place. He used to take me to this big castle thing and they talked about it.”
I pulled her up onto the bed with us, “I see. And if you believe it, it’ll be something to look forward to."
“I hope so, because when I was littler I was told that Santa existed, the Tooth Fairy existed, the Easter Bunny, and God. And now I know the first three don’t, so eventually he’ll tell me the last one doesn’t either.”
Feliks shied off to my side, his eyes wide and his teeth showing, scared, not angry. We weren’t anticipating deep meaningful talk with a kid, “Well that’s a lot of philosophical talk for a young girl like yourself. When you are older you can put more thought into it. I mean I’m not agreeing or disagreeing, I’m just saying stay… uh…”
“Innocent,” Fadiyah sighed from the doorway.
I couldn’t help but letting a brief smile bud across my cheeks at the sight of my friend. Quickly I played it cool and pulled it back to a straight face. She walked closer, taking a strand of Lilya’s hair and tugging on it. She did not pull hard enough to hurt her, she was above cruel intentions, but hard enough to derail the thoughts of a seven year old. Lilya looked at her like an obedient dog; if she had a tail it’d be wagging five hundred kilometres per hour.
Fadiyah, guffawed at her in a kindhearted way, “Dinner is ready.”
Lilya jumped off onto her feet, skittering out of sight. The door slammed out in the hall while the sound echoed into the surrounding rooms.
“And as for you,” She shrugged while directing her gaze to me, “Robert wishes to have you for dinner. He sent me to fetch his granddaughter and you. Come? Please don’t refuse. I don’t need a reason for him to hassle me about you.”
“Have me for dinner?”
“In a Jeffrey Dahmer way or?” Feliks snickered. I pinched his ear, earning me a high-pitched yelp.
I held his muzzle shut, “I’ll be there.”
She grinned a Cheshire cat smile and left the room, followed by Lilya asking who that was. I got up to follow her, “Hey Fel, don’t bother with going into the storage room. You should be safe.”
Fadiyah and I headed to the house. Outside the sun slithered behind cotton clouds. The air felt smooth and the chill started to fade away but hadn’t completely let go of us. Fadiyah noticed my new clothes, of which were snatched by my house’s previous owner. Xavier’s clothes fit me, why miss the opportunity?
She placed a hand on the side of my arm, “I bet you guys would have been good friends. He had real pretty hazel eyes like yours. I could stare into them forever.”
“That sounds nice…” I admitted halfheartedly, “But I’d have to have met him before I became friends with him. Even if he had perfect fashion and great eyes.”
“Yeah, it’s a little shallow to choose friends by looks. They’d be decorations, not friends.” She continued with a glowing blush as I sped up my pace, “I meant you had… hey wait for me!”
I had begun to sprint towards the house. My nose starting to turn red from the cold. Her last statement fell on deafened ears.
The house stood in front of us now, the cold steel door hovering in front of my face. I heard movement around the back of the house, prompting us to rush inside, fearing the wild. Fadiyah shut the door with an oomph, unnecessarily using her entire body to force it shut. I unzipped my hoodie, showing my dark blue flannel underneath.
I smelled the scent of beef, mixed with the savory flavor of gravy, surely mixed with mashed potatoes. For a man who believed this was the end of the world, he didn’t eat like it.
I followed the smell, welcomed into a clean, economy kitchen. The dinner table was set up a three yards away from a marble
island. Bowls of food lay upon the counter, Lilya playing with a stuffed animal beside the table.
She glanced up at us and put down the toy, “You joined us, Lene!”
I sat down a seat from her, at the end of the table. Out of the four seats, Fadiyah sat to my right, Lilya’s left. I poked a fork harshly on the baby blue plates, the tapping reverberated in the room. After about the fifth time, Fadiyah grabbed my hand, her lips pursed and her eyes begging me to stop. Lilya lifted her spoon and copied what I did.
“Don’t you start with it too!”
My eyes rolled, “You are so high strung for a fifteen year old.”
“You are only two years older than me!”
“So?” I popped my neck, “So where is your dad?”
Fadiyah bit her lip, “Uh, he was here. He was here and set out the plates. I was sent out by him to get you guys.”
Lilya began to look around with us.
Our confusion was cut short by the bang of the door, the doorknob crashing into the wooden walls and the snarling and growling of my brother. His cries were a mix of whining, barking, and ferocity. It was clearly a struggle as Robert carried my brother by the neck into the kitchen. A thick woolen sack muffled Feliks's cries and was secured tightly under the base of his jaw. A rope suspended him off the ground, held stiff in hand by Robert. Feliks's stubby claws scratched desperately across the linoleum to keep the pressure off his throat to supply his oxygen. At that point I noticed his back paws here lassoed together.
“What are you doing?” I screeched.
“Explain this right now!” Robert bellowed at us, his face taut in fury.
“Robert, please-” Fadiyah jumped out of her chair. She ran forward towards the thrashing werebie, one of his claws catching her leg and drawing blood under her pant leg.
Robert lifted my brother higher, his cries starting be stifled, his body falling still.
I shook, screaming, “You are killing him! Let him go! Let him go!”