by Perrin Briar
“I hurt all over,” Janice said. “Stabbing pains, like wasps all over me. And my hand… It’s killing me!”
During her exertion, the bandage had worked loose and hung from a single corner. The wound was inflamed, puckered and brazen. A yellow liquid oozed along the crescent indentation, staining the collar of her T-shirt.
“You’re going to be okay,” Dana said.
Janice shook her head. She didn’t believe a word of it.
“Come on,” Dana said, getting to her feet. “You’ve got some kids to get to and help.”
Dana took hold of Janice’s hefty arm and pulled on it in an effort to get her to her feet. Instead, Dana started back. Janice’s arm was cold as ice. Just a moment ago she was hot as hell. Dana poked Janice, but her finger only depressed her soft flesh.
“Janice?” Dana said.
She poked her again, hard this time. Janice rocked to the side, but her head remained hung, bent at what must have been an uncomfortable angle.
“Janice?” Dana said.
Janice grunted. Dana breathed a sigh of relief.
“Oh, thank God,” she said. “For a second there I thought you were a goner. Let’s get you to your feet. Come on.”
She braced Janice under one arm, but there was no way she was going to get her to her feet on her own.
“Come on,” Dana said. “On your feet. That’s it.”
Janice was unsteady, but she gained in strength, until Dana felt her body weight leave her and she could stand under her own power. Now, finally, Dana could leave her and let her go her own way. And she would be free to find Max. She hoped she was still at home.
Janice’s arm twitched, bringing Dana toward her. From the woman’s giant arm, it was more than a gentle prod. It brought Dana forward a few steps.
“Careful,” Dana said. “You don’t know your own strength.”
Janice looked up, her face revealed for the first time since she’d passed unconscious. Dana froze.
Janice’s eyes were white, like a thick film had been placed over them. Her skin hung from her bones. She turned to look at Dana, her eyes lidded and heavy. But it was not with sleep that they were tired, but a lack of brain activity.
And Dana was practically embracing her.
Janice’s face twisted into a snarl, revealing her wonky teeth. Dana stepped back, but it only brought Janice with her, her arm still wrapped about her head. Her mouth widened and approached Dana…
Dana ducked. Janice’s mouth met her own arm. Dana slipped out of Janice’s grip and hit the deck. She scrambled back on her hands and feet.
Janice had a cartoon look of surprise on her face and peered around for the missing morsel. Her mouth fell open. She leaned forward and approached Dana again.
Dana ducked and darted aside to avoid Janice’s outstretched arms.
“Janice!” Dana said. “Janice! It’s me! Dana!”
But Janice showed no sign she even knew who Dana was, much less that she understood what she was saying. She staggered toward her again, and it was then that Dana realized that whatever these things were, whatever it was that these people became, there was no getting through to them afterwards.
Dana backed away from the thing that used to be Janice. There was nothing Dana could do, nothing she could do to help Sharon’s kids. They would have to fend for themselves.
Dana turned and ran from her short-term friend. Dana supposed all her friendships would be short-term from now on. It would be a matter of self-preservation.
Dana ran. She ran from Janice, from her history as an escaped prisoner, from her past as a juvie. She couldn’t afford to be her old self anymore. She had to be an adult for Max.
Miss Jenkins had been right. Dana needed a purpose, and now she had one thrust upon her: to keep Max safe, no matter the odds, no matter the cost, no matter the obstacles. She must keep Max safe.
Even if it ended up costing Dana’s life.
Despite everything that had happened, Dana allowed herself a small smile. She was heading toward Max. If she could just get to her, could protect her, all this would be worth it.
And as Dana propelled herself forward under the heady steam of love, something large and powerful was at that moment heading directly for Dana.
She heard the screech and felt her feet get swept off the ground in virtually the same instant, a fraction of a second before darkness took her.
Chapter Fourteen
THE WORLD had a tint placed over it, turning it into something like the fuzzy flashbacks from old movies, a way to instill some kind of melancholy feeling for the past, only this past had blossoming fires, roving former humans, and thundering helicopters overhead, lowering and taking flight again like harvesting bees.
Dana was lying on something soft and comfortable. It wasn’t a bed, unless it was one of those reclining ones. And she was moving. She was in a car, she decided, in the front passenger seat. Beside her was the driver, focusing on the road and moving around each obstacle he came across.
Dana said nothing and turned her ahead away from the driver. She didn’t need him to know she was awake. She blinked her eyes, looking out the window.
The objects streamed past, blurs melting from one to the next, merging like two colors mixed on a palette. Dana closed her eyes, clenching them together, and then blinked rapidly to get moisture into them again. The world began to drift into focus.
Dana felt her body, sensed it, checking to make sure nothing was broken or damaged. The last thing she could recall was the honking of a car horn and bright lights rushing toward her…
But she felt fine. Her limbs responded to her when she moved them gently under her clothing, careful not to garner too much attention from the man in the driving seat.
“Are you okay?” the driver said. “Please be okay. I hit you pretty hard. I’m sorry. I was being chased.”
So much for not garnering too much attention, Dana thought.
Dana groaned. Better to make a show of more pain than she really felt, in case she had to react to a sudden attack and needed to take him by surprise. She turned to look at the man.
“Oh thank God,” the driver said, stroking a plastic crucifix hanging from the rearview mirror. “I thought I’d killed you.”
“I feel like I nearly was,” Dana said.
“A gang of those things were chasing me,” the driver said. “I was watching my rearview mirror, keeping an eye on them in case more came out of nowhere. They do that sometimes. You’d never think they could with how slowly they walk. And when I turned around to look ahead, and you were right there, running into the road! I hit my brakes, of course, but it was too late.”
Dana looked him over. He was thin, young, with mousey brown hair and an anxious mouth. He did not look the type to deliberately run people over.
“I think I’m okay, no harm done,” Dana said.
“That’s a relief,” the driver said. “I’m Jacob.”
Dana shook his proffered hand.
“Dana,” she said. “Nice to meet you. Shame it’s not under better circumstances.”
Jacob laughed, an ugly snort of a thing. Dana reminded herself not to make him laugh again.
“How long was I out?” Dana said.
“Ten minutes,” Jacob said. “I’m getting you to a hospital, don’t worry.”
“No,” Dana said. “Not the hospital.”
“But I hit you-” Jacob said.
“Not the hospital,” Dana said again. “I need to go to my parent’s house.”
“At least let a doctor look you over,” Jacob said. “Then I can relax and not have to worry about you.”
Dana could care less whether he worried about her or not. He had a stubborn cast to his jaw, something she recognized in herself. It was the kind of look she had when she was going to do what she wanted, and to hell with anyone else.
But she couldn’t let him take her to the hospital. Every minute she wasted in getting to her parents’ was another minute Max could be in danger.
If he wouldn’t listen to her, perhaps he would listen to Mr. Glock 19. Dana surreptitiously slipped her hand into the waistband of her pants. She checked from one side to the other. The pistol was gone. She turned her eyes on Jacob.
Either she lost it when she got hit by the car or it was taken from her. Was Jacob as innocent as he appeared? Dana felt a shiver run up her spine. She was probably being overly suspicious. Or was she? Was it possible to be overly cautious in the new world? She would have to try to browbeat him.
“I can’t,” Dana said. “I need to go to my parents’.”
“We’re almost at the hospital now,” Jacob said. “We might as well get you checked out while we’re here.”
Dana reached for the door handle and pulled it, cracking the door open.
“What the hell are you doing?” Jacob said, instinctively slowing the car down.
“I told you I need to get to my parents’,” Dana said. “If you don’t turn around I’m going to throw myself out.”
The threat wasn’t as good as the pistol. Threatening your own life was always apt to be less convincing than that of the person you were seeking to intimidate. But the look of horror on Jacob’s face spoke volumes.
“Okay, okay!” Jacob said. “Jees! I’ll turn around now. I was only trying to do the best by you.”
“I appreciate that,” Dana said. “But let me worry about what’s best for me.”
“Understood,” Jacob said, an undertone of annoyance in his voice.
They drove on in silence as Dana gave him directions to her father’s house. The silence didn’t bother her. She had plenty to keep herself occupied with.
Why had Janice attacked her? What had made her sick? None of it made any sense. She’d been fine and then she had gotten too hot and passed out. When she awoke, it was like she’d been possessed by a demon.
A demon… Or a virus.
But how? How had Janice been infected? Dana had been with her the whole time. If Janice had been infected by something, why hadn’t Dana?
My hand! Janice had said. It’s so painful!
It had been red raw and inflamed. It was the bite that caused Janice to turn. Just as it had been with Darren? And the unnamed girl in the bed? And Sharon, had she not been murdered prematurely?
My God…
Dana cradled her arm. She didn’t need to look at the bite to know it was there. She could feel it, throbbing like it had a life of its own.
Darren had bitten her. Did that mean she was going to become one of them too? Was she already well on her way? But she’d been bitten longer ago than Janice. Did that make any difference? Did how long Darren had been a carrier make any difference to the virus’ potency? Dana didn’t know, probably would never know. In truth, she didn’t want to know.
Instead of being what saved Max, could she end up being what put her in danger? No. Dana would never let it come to that. She had seen the symptoms Janice had. They’d come on quickly, but Dana could take herself out of the picture if it came to that. She had to be aware that it could strike at any time.
She had to make sure to keep a spare bullet at all times. And get a new pistol while she was at it.
Dana grew more anxious the closer they got to her father’s suburban home. The streets were strewn with refuse, both of random discarded garbage, and human body parts. To Dana’s eyes they all looked like they belonged to an eight-year-old.
Dana needed to find Max and get her somewhere safe. She could take or leave her parents… Except she couldn’t really.
Max would insist upon them accompanying them. Max was all heart and no brain sometimes. But then, she was a kid. It was good she still thought that way, but reality would soon burn that kindness out of her.
Logically, it made sense to have three potential caregivers instead of just one. After all, what if something happened to Dana? Her father and Amanda would be better than Max being by herself. Marginally.
They passed the Grierson’s house on the corner of Benedict Avenue. The front windows had been smashed open, the shards jagged and sneering.
Dana had spent countless summer nights at her friend Samantha Grierson’s house. Now it was a ghost house. The memories she had might as well have never existed.
“Here,” Dana said. “Pull over here. Thanks for the lift.”
“You’re very welcome,” Jacob said. “Shame we couldn’t have met under different circumstances.”
He laughed again, snorting. Dana cringed.
“Right,” Dana said.
She’d had just about enough of Jacob’s company.
“Good luck in your travels,” Dana said.
She climbed out.
“Wait,” Jacob said.
Dana didn’t. She shut the door and approached the front garden gate. Jacob lowered Dana’s window.
“Hey!” Jacob said. “Hey! I’ve got something of yours. Some kind of gun.”
Dana paused at that. She turned to see Jacob waving something, the moonlight catching it and making it glint.
“I found this beside you when I picked you up,” Jacob said.
It was Dana’s pistol all right. And Jacob was pointing it right at her.
Dana’s heart was in her throat. She gauged him. Was he crazy? A reverse crazy hitchhiker taking advantage during the warm up to the apocalypse?
“Oops,” Jacob said, suddenly aware he was pointing Dana’s own gun at her. “Here.”
He extended the gun. Dana returned to the car. Slowly. She took the gun from him.
“I never know how to correctly handle these things,” he said.
Not crazy, then. But dangerous—to himself. Dana checked the chamber and found the gun still loaded. Jacob trusted her not to shoot him and take his car. How could he be so stupid? She supposed she ought to show him the same altruistic courtesy.
“Can I give you a word of friendly advice?” Dana said.
Jacob shrugged.
“Sure,” he said. “It can’t hurt.”
“Don’t be a damn retard in future,” Dana said.
That made him blink. Apparently advice could hurt.
“If you’re going to survive the next few days, you’re going to have to learn not to trust people,” Dana said. “Before long everyone is going to turn on one another. You know who’ll be the first to go? The caring. The honest. The respectable. Do yourself, and your genes—if you want to pass them on—a favor, and don’t try to help everyone all the time. ”
Jacob smiled. He thought she was joking.
“Sure,” he said. “I’ll do that.”
He shook his head and took off.
Dead man driving, Dana thought. But, he was no longer her problem. Except for when he turned into one of those creatures. Maybe she should have put a bullet in his head. At least then she wouldn’t have to deal with him later. She sighed. Shoulda, woulda, coulda.
There was only one person she need worry about, and she was, hopefully, tucked up safely inside the house before her. And then fear gripped her.
What if she wasn’t inside? What if their parents had whisked her off somewhere? Somewhere they hadn’t told her about?
Get a grip, girl! Dana chastened herself.
There was only one way of knowing what happened.
She walked up the garden path to the door. She took her key out of her pocket and put it to the lock. At the little pressure she put upon it, the door drifted open.
The front door was already ajar.
Chapter Fifteen
THE ENTRANCE was immaculate and smelled like Dettol, a theme throughout the whole house. It turned Dana’s stomach, like the antiseptic stench of a hospital that attempted to disguise the dirt and grime and death beneath it all. There was no covering sickness in any of its forms.
Dana’s knuckles strained white around the pistol’s handle. She wanted to fire off a round to make sure it worked, or else she’d be left with her pants down if it jammed.
But a testing shot would not only cost her a bullet, but
would garner the attention of any of the beasts that might be in the area. She decided not to take the risk, and turned to the house.
“Hello?” Dana said to the darkness. “Max? Pop? Amanda?”
There was no reply from the darkness. Dana stepped further into the house. The floorboards creaked beneath her weight. She reached across for the light switch and pressed it, and then returned both her hands to the pistol. The light came on. At least the power was still working. For now.
The light was soft and illuminated the first half a dozen steps on the staircase before fading into eternal darkness. A square of light cast by the doorframe spilled across the front room floor. In it was a pink shoe, lying on its side, sole facing Dana. Her breath hitched in her throat as she realized the shoe wasn’t empty.
But as Dana edged closer she could see it didn’t belong to Max. It was too big. Amanda’s, then? Except Amanda didn’t own any shoes in so garish a color. All her shoes were black. She was straight-laced, forever formal.
It had been a surprise Dana’s father would have found someone like her attractive, at least for more than a one-night fling. No doubt men enjoyed seeing another side to the usually uptight office woman stereotype.
Stepping into the darkness, Dana smelled the dark tang of iron. Blood, most likely. It curled her nose. She’d caught the stench enough in the day to know what it entailed. There was another smell underneath it, something Dana recognized, but couldn’t quite put her finger on. She hesitated before switching on the light.
She couldn’t have prepared herself for what she saw next.
Bodies.
Everywhere.
Six of them, each lying in a different pose of extreme agony. Dana recognized them all. Mr. and Mrs. Grierson from up the street. Mr. Abbott the mailman and his recently-acquired girlfriend, Jenny, from the post office. Her father and stepmother, Amanda.
It was like a piece of modern art, begging the viewer to make up their own mind as to its meaning. Dana was beginning to get used to seeing bodies and blood. It was going to be a common theme in the new world, she suspected.