by Haga, A. H.
I nodded and swallowed hard a couple of times before I was able to look at her face. Beside her, I saw André. He was curled into the smallest ball he could be, back toward us and head leaning against the window. His breathing was uneven but slow.
Shadia followed my look with her own and gave a small squeeze of my hand. “He fell asleep almost as soon as you did. I guess it was too much for both of you.”
“What about you?” I asked. “How’re you doing?”
Shadia smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Better than the two of you, I’m sure.” I stuck my tongue out at her, trying to make her smile. It didn’t work. “But I don’t feel safe just sitting here. We should get a move on.”
“So, what’s the plan now?”
“We have three choices.” She held up the three middle fingers on her hand. “One, we try to move the cars.” She lowered one finger. “Two, we go off-road.” She pointed her second finger in the air.
“Oh, wait!” I said as she opened her mouth to speak. She closed it again and blinked at me. Tongue between my teeth, I reached forward and fiddled with her hand until her middle finger was the only one sticking into the air. “There!”
Shadia rolled her eyes. “Real mature, habibi.”
“You love me.” The banter worked much better than my grimace to make Shadia relax.
She rolled her eyes yet again, this time smiling, before she became serious once again. “Or three, we walk and find a place to rest for the day.”
“You think we need rest already?”
She furrowed her brow. “It depends on you and André.”
“Should we wake him?”
“Probably?”
When Shadia didn’t do anything, I leaned forward and poked André. Shadia was still holding the other. He groaned in his sleep, so I poked him again. This time, he swatted at my hand, and I poked a third time.
“What?” he snapped, finally uncurling from his ball and turning to scowl at me. His eyes were shiny as if he had a fever, and his skin was clammy with sweat.
Worry coiled in my stomach, and I glanced at Shadia. By the furrow of her brow, she was worried as well.
“We’re stuck,” I said matter of fact.
His scowl turned into a frown. “Where are we?”
I let Shadia fill him in as I stretched my back and neck. They’d knotted up while I slept and cracked like fireworks now. Shadia winched with every pop, and André looked at me with big eyes, seeming impressed.
“Well, I don’t think we can move those cars. And I don’t think we can go off-road, you know?” he said when Shadia had given him our choices. “So, I guess we should walk?”
“Are you sure?” Shadia said, finally reaching for his forehead. “You don’t look too good.”
“I’m fine,” he answered, dodging her hand so she couldn’t get a proper feel of his temperature. “I’m just a little stressed after everything. I’m not good with stress, you know?”
Shadia and I exchanged glances before she nodded. “OK. So we start walking and keep our eyes open for any car that may have the keys close by.”
“Maybe we could break into a house and steal the keys?” I wondered aloud.
Shadia scowled. “Kit, how could you say something like that?”
“What? It’s not like the owners will be needing the keys or the car anytime soon.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Actually, she has a point,” André said in a low voice, afraid to get in the middle but clearly wanting to have his say. Not that I blamed him. His life was intertwined with ours whether he wanted it or not. “We don’t know if the owners died in there or not. If we break into a house, we may end up letting a whole lot of zombies out. I still don’t think their bite is contagious,” he said in a hurry as Shadia opened her mouth. “But I don’t want us to be eaten either, you know?”
Shadia sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “OK,” she finally said, throwing her hands in the air and slamming them into the ceiling of the small car. Grimacing, she continued. “We’ll hit the road and keep our eyes open for any cars. If we pass a house with a car in the drive, we’ll consider breaking in to get the keys. But only consider. Understood?”
“Yes, Mom,” I said.
Shadia gave me a hard look that could actually have rivaled my mother’s before she unbuckled her belt and climbed out of the car.
The thought of my mother stabbed at my heart, but I pushed it away. This was not a time for grief, but when was? I couldn’t help but glance at Shadia, wondering how she was doing. The loss of my own family was painful, sure, but I had grieved losing them long ago. That’s the thing with Myalgic Encephalomyelitis; you grieve the loss of your life and what that means.
Shadia, on the other hand, had a good relationship with her parents. They had met at school in Dubai, and her father had brought her mother home to Norway when they graduated. Shadia’s whole family–her parents, grandparents, and two brothers–lived further North, and we lost contact with them a few days before things went bad in Oslo. She had spent a few days crying behind closed doors before we left, but she hadn’t felled a tear or brought them up since then. Was she dealing, or in denial? Pushing through it?
“What about lunch?” André asked as he stepped out of the car, bringing me out of my thoughts.
17
We ate on the road. André stuck to his bierwursts while I ate canned peaches. I tried to talk André into eating something else, but he only grunted at me, and I let it go.
The fact that he was eating so much meat worried me. If the parasite lived on meat, wouldn’t it be natural for it to crave more, and so make the host crave it? Or maybe he had loved bierwursts since before the shit hit the fan? What did I know? I wanted to talk to Shadia about it but didn’t want to do it while André could hear, so I kept an eye on him, mulling it over.
Shadia didn’t eat until André was done with his sausage, and he could take over pushing me. I felt a little bad for not being able to do it myself but shook it off just as fast. I would never quite be rid of that guilt, but I knew I couldn’t do anything about it either, so feeling bad wouldn’t help anyone.
The sun was warm, the asphalt mirroring the heat, and soon Shadia was walking with her jacket tied around her waist, sweat shining between her breasts every time I turned to talk to her. André was walking without his shoes and jacket, his pants rolled up. Every now and again, he would dance by me, the asphalt too hot for his naked feet. He was sweating as well, but in buckets compared to Shadia’s glow. I did as André and rolled up my jeans and took off my jacket.
The landscape around us changed from small farms and fields to houses and gardens. Soon enough, we were surrounded by homes. I’d expected André to jump on the idea of us finding a car, but he was plowing along now, not even noticing the heat of the pavement beneath his feet. His eyes were unfocused, and he was panting.
“Maybe we should start looking for a place to sleep?” I offered, nudging my head toward André and hoping Shadia would notice and take my meaning.
“No,” André answered before either of us could say anything else. “We need to get further before we stop for the day. You said it yourself, Shadia, those men might follow us, you know?” His voice was slurred like he’d been drinking.
Shadia let me go and moved toward him. “André, are you OK?”
He swatted her away as she reached for him. “I’m fine. Just tired and warm.”
“We should get out of the sun.”
“Not yet.”
“Maybe we can look for a car?” I asked, rolling toward them.
I could smell André from two meters away. A kind of sweetness. Shadia discreetly lifted her hand, asking me to stay back, so I did.
“That’s not such a bad idea. We’ll get further in a car and it will be cooler. What do you think, André? Will our luck hold once more?”
He shrugged. “How should I know?”
Shadia glanced at me before she shrugged as well. “Le
t’s just start looking, OK? We should probably get something a little bigger as well, so we have room for all of us and our things.”
“Sure,” he grumbled and shuffled forward again.
Shadia came to me and squeezed my shoulder.
“What’re you thinking?” I asked, looking at her set jaw and furrowed brow.
“I’m worried, that’s all.”
“About the bite?”
“Yes.”
I bit my lower lip for a second before speaking. “Do you think we should worry about him eating so much meat?”
The chair stuttered a little as Shadia slowed her pace. “Maybe. Maybe not. He might just like them.” I nodded. “But we’ll make a vegetable soup for dinner tonight, so he won’t get any meat.”
“Sounds good.”
“You think we should be worried?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. He may just be stressed and having a reaction to everything that’s happened today.” I waved toward him, indicating his sweaty exterior.
Shadia shook her head, but not in denial. More like she tried to shake cobwebs off her thoughts. “Maybe. I hope so.” She squeezed my shoulder again and moved to push me.
Our progress was slower after that. Part of it was looking for a car, but it was also because of André. He was dragging his feet more and more, leaning against cars as he looked at them, or using fences as support as he walked. I couldn’t help but think about when I started having trouble with dizziness and my legs not wanting to listen early on in my sickness. How I would use everything as support, but not wanting to admit to anyone–even myself–that I needed it.
I asked André how he was feeling around half an hour later, and he grunted for me to mind my own business. That he was fine but tired. I didn’t argue, knowing too well how touchy one could be when not feeling well and not wanting to admit it.
We found an SUV that looked promising, but as Shadia neared its house, something hit the door from the inside. We all froze, listening, and the sound came again, and again, and again. Rhythmic and low. The thud of someone walking into the door repeatedly. After a short discussion, we didn’t take the chance and moved on.
After another half hour, we finally found a car Shadia approved of. It was a Forester of some sort, big and bulky. I would probably eat through gas like there was no tomorrow, but it could hold all of us comfortably and looked good for off-road in case we had to drive through forests or fields to get past roadblocks. Who knew what the roads were like further South, after all. The only problem: there were no keys present.
“We could move on,” I suggested, seeing Shadia eye the house it was parked beside.
“No. We could use the car. If only to get you both out of the sun so you don’t burn. I’m surprised you haven’t turned to ash by now,” she answered, forcing a smile.
“What?” André asked as I said, “Harr harr.”
“What?” he asked again as Shadia giggled.
“She’s calling us vampires,” I said, pointing between the two of us. “Sure, we’re pale, but neither of us have fangs.”
André narrowed his eyes at Shadia before giving a weak shrug like he didn’t have the energy to complete it. “Well, someone did bite my neck.”
Shadia’s smile faltered, but I forced a laugh, recognizing black humor when I heard it. Shadia shot me a look before she shook her head and turned back to the house.
Drawing a deep breath, she headed for the door, ax in hand. She was almost there when a scrabbling sound from inside made her stop.
“Is that–” I began but was cut off by a muffled bark. “No,” I breathed, pushing forward before I could even think about it.
“Kit,” Shadia warned, seeing me from the corner of her eye.
“No,” I answered. “We have to help it.”
“It could be sick.”
“But it isn’t dead. Come on, Sha, I can’t get to the door on my own.”
Shadia sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, chewed on it once, then shook her entire upper body. Cursing in Arabic, she hurried up the steps to the door. The dog on the inside was whining now, having heard our voices.
“It’s OK,” I called in as calm a voice as I could. “We’re here. We’ll get you out.”
It clawed at the door again.
Shadia knocked. “Hello? Is anyone in there?” The dog whined louder. Shadia knocked again, harder this time.
“It’s alone,” I said.
Shadia glanced at me before calling out again, just in case.
“Shadia!”
Shadia glanced at me. “I’m afraid I’ll hurt it.”
“Aim high up,” André said from beside me. I hadn’t even noticed him following us. “Then, you can reach through and unlock the door, you know?”
Shadia nodded and hefted the ax. It bit into the wood with a crunch that made me shudder. The dog howled, and I wasn’t sure if it was from fear or excitement.
Shadia made quick work of the door, hacking away the upper half until she could look through. When she was sure nothing would jump out and bite her, she stuck her hand through the hole. Her lips were moving, but I couldn’t hear any words. The lock clicked, and she dragged open the door, stepping back in case the dog flew out.
It didn’t. Instead, it slunk into the sunlight.
“Oh, no,” I whispered, tears filling my eyes.
It was a Border Collie, but its fur was tangled and tired. Even with that layer of dread-like fur, we could see its hip bones and ribs as it breathed. Its muzzle was covered in blood, and as it lifted its tail, I saw blood on its rear as well.
Shadia murmured something, maybe a prayer. I would have prayed as well if I believed in any gods.
The dog wagged its tail. It was a small wag, probably all it had the energy to do, but it was enough to spring the tears from my eyes as I leaned down.
“Here, little one,” I said, reaching my hands out to it.
The dog’s tail moved a little more as it walked clumsily down the steps. It looked at Shadia as it walked past, but didn’t jump up or ask for any attention. I could see in its eyes that it was too tired to ask for anything. Reaching me, it sat down and rested its chin in my outstretched hand.
“Oh, dear one,” I said, stroking its head and scratching behind its ears. “I’m so sorry.”
“Kit,” Shadia said as she headed down the steps.
“I know,” I choked out, not taking my eyes off the dog, not breaking contact. The dog, hunched over as it was, too exhausted to even sit up properly, opened its mouth and panted. Its saliva was bloody, and I could smell vomit on its breath.
“It’s infected,” André said, his voice barely louder than a breath.
“Yes, but you’re still a good dog, aren’t you?” The dog lifted a paw and rested it on my lower arm. “Shadia, give me your knife.”
“Habibi, you don’t–”
“I do.”
Not breaking eye contact, or stopping my petting and scratching, I reached out the hand the dog had rested its chin on. It was leaning its head against my hand now, using me as support. For a moment, we jus sat there, then the dog tensed. It started gagging, and I just had time to push back before it threw up. There was no food in its vomit, only blood, and what looked like cloth.
I slid out of the chair, hitting the asphalt of the driveway with a thud that hurt my knees, and stroked the dog until it was done throwing up. It turned toward me again, looking miserable and tired.
“Here, little one. Rest,” I said. When I had shuffled away from the vomit, I patted my thigh.
The dog blinked at me two times before following and lowering itself to the asphalt. Resting its head in my lap, it sighed and closed its eyes.
“Shadia,” I said in a wobbly voice.
My tears dripped onto the dog’s snout, but it didn’t react. I could feel its heartbeat against my leg, slow and unsteady. It didn’t have long.
Shadia, crying, took the knife from her belt and handed it to me. The moment I held it, she t
urned away, covering her mouth to stifle her sobs.
I didn’t stop stroking the dog, didn’t stop talking and telling it how good it was, that everything would be OK. I didn’t stop crying, but I was able to keep it partly under control as I comforted. The knife in one hand, I waited.
It didn’t take long. Half an hour, maybe. My legs were numb, and my face sore from the tears and the sun. Shadia was sitting behind me, her hand on my neck, giving silent support and comfort. André was sitting with his back against the car, eyes closed. He wasn’t crying, but he kept swallowing hard, and his face was pale. Every now and again, he would look at the dog before hurriedly looking away. Then, the dog sighed again, and I felt its heartbeat stop against my leg. The starved body suddenly grew a lot heavier.
“There you go,” I said, carefully reaching around to check the collar. Looking at the bone-shaped tag, I choked but swallowed the sob. “There you go, Max. You’re safe now.”
I stroked Max’s head once more, just to make sure, then lined the knife up with his neck and pushed along the spine and into the skull.
18
André was the first to move. I wasn’t sure how long he waited, but we sat so long that the blood flooding over my hands and legs cooled. Shadia sat behind me, arms wrapped around me as I sobbed.
André knelt beside me and touched my shoulder. His hand was shaking a little. “Kit,” he began, voice hoarse and dry. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “We can’t stay here, you know.”
“Why not?” I whispered between sobs, not able to take my eyes off the dog.
“There are zombies on the way. Do you want them to get you?”
Shadia’s arms tightened around me at his words. “How do you know?” she asked, her breath tickling my neck.
André sniffed. “Can’t you smell ‘em?”
Shadia sniffed. “Yes, I can.”
I couldn’t smell them, but I heard their moans. It was just at the edge of my hearing. I wouldn’t have thought much about it if André hadn’t pointed out they were coming closer. But even knowing this, I couldn’t bring myself to move, to even look away from Max.