The Awakened

by Sara Elizabeth Santana

  “Dad,” I started to protest.

  He had a pained expression on his face. “Please, for me.”

  I swallowed hard, and nodded. “Okay.”

  “See if you can convince Madison to stay home as well. I’ll be home later.” Then he was gone.

  I cleaned up the water in the kitchen before heading back upstairs. I typed out a quick message to Madison, urging her to stay home from school at the request of my dad. I hesitated for a moment, before sending another to Ash. I tossed my phone to the side before I could regret my momentary lapse of judgment and crawled back into bed, no longer feeling warm.

  I woke later, feeling even more exhausted than I had felt earlier. I yawned widely and reached for the remote sitting on top of a crumbled bag of Doritos on my nightstand. Hoping to see something about the murders at the morgue, I flipped on the TV and found a channel showing the local news.

  Instead I found what seemed to be the beginning of a press conference. The headline at the bottom of the screen read “Head of CDC to Address Concerns about Virus,” and an empty podium, presumably waiting for the head of the CDC, was the focus of attention. I turned up the volume, eager to find out more about the virus that was sweeping through our country like a tornado.

  The woman representing the CDC came on the screen and immediately there was a hushed tone, as she approached the podium. She shuffled a few papers and smiled at the crowd of reporters in front of her. Her name flashed quickly across the bottom of the screen: Razi Cylon.

  “Good morning everyone,” she began, her clipped British accent obvious right off the bat. There was also a little something else there, perhaps Indian. “My name is Razi Cylon and I’m a representative of the CDC. I have been very close to the work and study that we have been doing on this virus. As of right now, we know very little. The symptoms seem to be similar of what we know of the routine stomach flu: fever, chills, vomiting. However, the symptoms, as we have found out, tend to worsen and lead to the loss of blood, through vomiting or urination and the red sores that break out across the body. We are working hard to determine how the virus is transmitted. It is becoming more likely, as days pass, that it is not airborne. However, only with more time and more study will we begin to understand the nature of this.

  We are working diligently to learn more about the virus in order to figure out a method of fighting it off or even curing it. We urge everyone to go about your normal business but with caution. Remember to wash your hands constantly. Do not share drinks. Keep yourself as healthy and active as possible. Go to the doctor or your local hospital the minute you start feeling the symptoms and together, we can progress forward toward a solution.”

  She smiled at the cameras again, but the smile not quite reaching her eyes. She didn’t look much like a doctor, someone capable of spending days responsible for the Center of Disease Control. She was dressed impeccably in a smart business suit, and looked more like a lawyer than a doctor. I briefly remembered when my mother took me to Europe after my eighth grade graduation, and I sprained my ankle. The doctor in Leeds was dressed similarly, less like the normal picture I had for a doctor. There was something very poised and calculated about this woman though, and I was drawn to her eyes, that just didn’t match the tone of her voice or the smile on her full lips.

  The reporters immediately launched into a flurry of questions, talking over one another. I had had enough and switched off the TV. No sooner had my room fallen into silence again when there was a loud pounding on the door. I jumped, startled, and then laughed at myself. This virus was making me paranoid and easily spooked.

  I climbed out of bed and went bounding down the stairs. I stood on tiptoe to see through the peephole and sighed when my line of sight was just underneath. I opened the door and immediately saw Madison and Ash standing on my doorstep.

  “Hi, Madison,” I said, flashing an impatient look at Ash.

  “I come bearing snacks and Buffy,” Madison said, holding up a full grocery bag. She jerked her head toward Ash. “He invited himself.” She gave me a knowing look as she came in.

  “Nice bed head, Z.” My hand went immediately to my hair. I hadn’t even thought to run a brush through it. “I invited Brody, too,” Ash said cheerfully, coming in as well, uninvited. “Where’s Bandit?

  At the sound of his name, Bandit came bounding down the stairs, skidding across the wood floor and crashing into Ash’s legs. Ash bent over, and scratched him behind the ear. Bandit’s tongue fell out, his foot stomping in happiness. I sighed.

  “You weren’t invited, Ash,” I said, “Which means you can’t just invite others.”

  Ash looked over at Madison, his eyebrow raised. She smiled sheepishly and didn’t protest.

  “I hate you both,” I said, rolling my eyes and shutting the door. I was already beginning to shiver. It was freezing out there. “And besides, is it okay to invite Brody over? I thought his mother was sick. We don’t know how the virus is spread.”

  “Brody’s mom is sick,” Ash admitted, wandering over to the couch and plopping down on it.

  “Yes, she is,” Madison said, glaring at Ash. “But his mom lives in Queens. He hasn’t even seen her since she got sick.”

  I opened my mouth and then closed it, finding nothing to say.

  “I think we won,” Madison smirked, taking up residence on my dad’s favorite armchair, a bag of Cheetos on her lap.

  I grabbed the bag that Madison brought and dug through the contents, looking for the package of gummy worms that were absolutely necessary for my part in a Buffy the Vampire Slayer marathon. “I don’t think this is what my dad had in mind when he said to stay home from school.” I sighed. “But it is Buffy. I’m going upstairs to change.”

  “I think I’d rather you stay in those pajamas, Z,” Ash called from the couch. “Much easier to take off.”

  I blushed furiously and turned away, stomping up the stairs. Ash was so infuriating! I thought about his comment and his hands sliding up to remove my flannel pajama bottoms, and I felt my blush deepen. Ash had a way of getting under my skin, and I hated it. I yanked on a pair of jeans and a soft gray sweater. I brushed my brown hair, which was sticking up in places. It was so long that it tended to do wild things when left to fend for itself.

  By the time I got back downstairs, Brody had arrived and was canoodling on the armchair with Madison and nearly half of the first episode had passed.

  “Come sit with me, my beautiful Manhattan babe,” Ash said, patting the space on the couch next to him.

  I rolled my eyes. “Budge over, buddy,” I said, sitting on the couch. I pulled up my legs, folding them, and grabbed a blanket, draping it over my legs.

  Bandit came trotting into the room, settling on the ground right in front of me. I ran a hand over his head, immediately feeling comforted. Bandit was one of my best friends. Before Madison, I kept to my books, and sometimes after a particularly bad day (like Ash dumping pudding on my jeans during PE so it looked like I had pooped my pants for the rest of the day), I would come home and immediately go to my bed. Bandit would jump on the bed with me and put his head on my lap, and I would tell him about the awful day I had.

  Pathetic, I know. But he was the best dog, such a loyal dog. He couldn’t sit or stay or roll over to safe his life but he was loyal as hell and incredibly protective.

  A pillow fell in my lap, followed by a head of perfectly styled brown hair.

  “You’re comfy,” Ash sighed.

  “Seriously?” I hissed at him, aware of how close he was to me.

  “Shh,” Madison said, glaring at me. “Number one rule of a Buffy marathon is that one does not speak during said marathon.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Ash said, saluting her as best as he could from my lap. He fell into silence and I reluctantly let him stay.

  WE STAYED VIRTUALLY LIKE THAT for the rest of the day. Every once in a while Ash would look up at me when I laughed at a joke or quoted a certain line. His blue eyes would meet my dark brown ones, and I’
d frown at his smile. I tried to ignore him, lying in my lap like he didn’t find new ways to drive me insane every single day of my existence.

  We all jumped when the front door swung open bringing in a gust of cold air and then slammed shut. I pushed Ash off my lap and ran to meet Dad in the foyer. He looked exhausted as he hung up his coat in the closet.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, concerned. “Do you need anything?”

  “A coffee would be nice,” he said nodding. “Yeah, it was just a long day. I’m tired.” We moved into the kitchen, and I started pulling the coffee canister out of the cupboard.

  “What happened?”

  Dad and I looked up and saw Madison, Brody and Ash framed in the stairway that led down to the basement floor, where we had been all day. My dad raised an eyebrow at me and I merely raised mine in response.

  I turned to them. “Homicide. At the morgue.”

  “Zoey,” Dad said resigned, collapsing in a chair and propping his feet on the table. I paused for a moment, wondering if I should reprimand him yet again but decided against it.

  “Dad, we’re adults. You can’t keep hiding things from us,” I said, firmly. I emptied the coffee grounds from the day before (he could never remember to do this) and put in a new filter.

  He sighed. We all exchanged looks, wondering if he was going to say anything more. “This doesn’t leave this room. A statement will be released but it won’t be the whole truth.” He looked at us each in turn, as we nodded in agreement. Madison and I both looked incredibly solemn while the boys had a certain gleam in their eyes. I rolled my eyes and turned back to my dad.

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It was brutal. The doctors that were there to study the bodies? Well, they were torn to pieces. This wasn’t a simple shooting or stabbing. This took time.” He ran a hand through his thinning hair. “The coroner said the wounds looked like they were inflicted by teeth.”

  “Um, excuse me?” I asked, baffled, at the same time Brody and Ash said, “Awesome!”

  I pushed Ash away from me and turned back to Dad. “I’m confused. What do you mean? Like an animal?”

  He gave a sort of half-nod, half-shrug movement. “That’s exactly what it looks like, but it just can’t be. How would an animal capable of attacking and killing four grown adults get into a morgue in the middle of Manhattan? And you know, there were absolutely no signs of a break in.”

  “That’s incredibly bizarre,” Madison said, her pert little noise wrinkled in disgust.

  “That’s just the tip of the iceberg,” Dad said, picking up the salt and peppershakers on the table and holding them in his hands. I knew my dad; he wasn’t an idle person and his hands always had to be doing something.

  “What else?” I was almost too scared to ask. What more could possibly be wrong with this crime? Vampires? Werewolves? A mad supervillain?

  “The bodies are missing.”

  We were all quiet for a minute as we took in what my dad had said.

  It was Madison who broke the silence. “What do you mean, ‘the bodies are missing?’ What bodies?”

  “The bodies of the virus victims. There were at least twenty and they’re gone. Disappeared, without a trace.” I noticed a touch of unease in my father’s voice and I felt my stomach drop. My dad dealt with crime every day, crime all over the city. There were some things he just got used to. To see him uneasy was a rarity. “We’re getting word that this is happening all over the place too. Los Angeles. Phoenix. Denver. Chicago. It’s been a nightmare.”

  I felt sick to my stomach. The death count of the virus had been climbing steadily over the past few weeks, and to think of all those bodies gone missing…I shuddered at the thought. “Are people stealing the bodies?”

  Dad shrugged. “I don’t know. Why would they? And it’s not like they could get up and walk out on their own.”

  Ash’s eyes went wide. “That would be pretty cool though. Animated corpses.”

  I looked over at my dad, pleading him to see the ignoramus that I was forced to deal with every single day. He smiled slightly, a corner of his mouth turned upward in amusement. I turned back to Ash, “Do you every take anything seriously?”

  “I take you seriously, baby,” he said, with a wink, and I threw my hands up in exasperation.

  “Zoey?”

  We all turned to Dad. “You’re not going to school anymore. I’m sorry. It’s just not safe.” I nodded, swallowing hard. He looked over at the other three teenagers. “I’m not your parent, but I think it would be wise if you stayed home too.”

  All three of them nodded, suddenly solemn.

  My dad suddenly stood up, walking over to dump the untouched coffee in the sink. “Zoey, I was also thinking that maybe you should go stay with your mom for awhile.”

  Madison suddenly looked alert. She knew what the three letter word “mom” would do to me. “Okay, that’s my clue to leave.” She grabbed Brody’s shirt collar and started to tug him away.” Let’s go.”

  “No!” I burst out. “No, come on, Dad! I don’t want to live with Mom!”

  “Told you,” Madison said, tugging harder on Brody. “Let’s go.”

  “I just think,” he said, calmly, “it would be safer for you to be with your mother.”

  “Wait,” Ash said, still standing there even though Madison and Brody had made their escape. “Why would Z go live with her mom?”

  I ignored him. “Mom hates me.”

  “She doesn’t hate you,” Dad said, rolling her eyes. “She’s hurt that you’d rather live here in New York with me, but she doesn’t hate you.”

  “I can’t live with her. I can’t,” I said, firmly. “My home is Manhattan.”

  “Why does Zoey have to move in with her mom?” Ash repeated.

  “You have a home with your mom as well,” Dad said gently.

  “I don’t want to,” I said again.

  “What is going on?” Ash said, looking back and forth between us.

  Dad took pity on him, taking his eyes away from me. “Zoey’s mother lives in a small town, Constance, in Nebraska. No one is sick there. It’s safe.” He directed the last line toward me pointedly.

  I felt like I was losing. “No, Dad, really. I’ll do anything. I’ll drop out of school, I’ll stay inside all day, and I’ll stop breathing. Just please don’t send me to Mom’s. I want to stay here with you.”

  It was the truth, but I knew the words would have the desired effect. I was pulling the guilt card, the affection card. His resolve was beginning to crack. “I don’t know, Zoey…”

  “Dad, I’ll stay inside all day. I’ll be safe,” I promised.

  “I’m worried about you being alone with me gone all the time.” He sounded uncertain, his shoulders sagging. I was getting closer and closer to a victory.

  “It’s never been an issue before,” I pointed out.

  “Yes, but people weren’t getting sick from a mysterious virus, and bodies weren’t disappearing,” he pointed out. Okay, maybe I wasn’t as close to a victory as I thought.

  “I’ll stay with her,” Ash offered, sounding serious. “My parents have been pushing for me to stay home too. We can hang out together, keep each other company.”

  “Um, no,” I said, automatically. “That’s a terrible idea.”

  Dad sat up looking interested. “I like this idea.”

  “Dad!” I protested. Ash’s face lit up with triumph, and I had to resist the huge urge to stick my tongue out at him.

  “Zoey,” he interrupted. “I would just feel safer about the both of you, if you were together.”

  “Yeah, Z, I can protect you,” Ash said, sliding his arm around my waist. I pulled away from him, opening my mouth to protest again.

  “It’s either this or I’m shipping you off to Constance,” my dad offered up.

  I shut my mouth and glared at both of them. “You both suck,” I said frustrated, turning on my heel to stomp upstairs.

  “I THINK THAT WATCHING BUFFY is a bette
r idea,” Ash insisted.

  “After the news, Ash, we can watch it after the news. I just want to watch the news,” I said, through clenched teeth.

  “Why would you want that?” he grumbled, smashing his face into a couch pillow. “It’s so depressing.”

  “Five people from our school alone died in the last week! And we don’t exactly go to a large school, Ash,” I said, indignant. “It’s kind of chaotic right now.”

  Ash sighed, exaggerated and loud, and I resisted the urge to throw the pillow at him.

  It had been like this every day for about two weeks now. Ash came over in the morning and stayed until my dad came home, no matter how late it was. I tried staying away from him as much as possible, angry that I was hiding from him in my own house. At lunch, we came together and usually ordered in. I would take my food to the basement to watch the afternoon news. Ash usually followed and complained.

  The death toll was mounting higher and higher, and the bodies kept disappearing. It was frightening. Panic was beginning to increase daily. People were choosing to die in their homes, afraid of their bodies being snatched. That only seemed to help the disease spread further. Most people had stopped going to work and school but there was still a great amount that carried on, like nothing was happening and everything was normal.

  No one knew how the disease was spreading. Doctors were either sick themselves or too scared of the body snatchers. They were too scared to study the bodies long enough to figure out what was wrong.

  People were dying, and I was scared.

  Ash wasn’t, not yet anyway. Instead, he was intent on driving me absolutely insane.

  “What do you want for dinner, Z? I’m thinking Chinese.”

  “Yeah, whatever, fine,” I said, vaguely. I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket and I yanked it out. It was Madison, and I immediately answered. “What’s up?”

  “What are you doing right now?” came the immediate response.

  I looked over at Ash, bent over a takeout menu from Water Street Wok. “Contemplating the many ways to murder a high school quarterback.”