by Sarra Cannon
And this time she’d have this super cute bag to show off.
She revved the engine and hit the button for the garage door. She pulled back onto the street and squinted at the bright sun. It had been several days since she left the dark cave of her living room and the sun hurt her eyes. She opened the glove compartment and reached for her mom’s cherished Versace sunglasses. Nice.
Karmen put the large shades over her eyes and took off, her foot heavy on the gas pedal.
It took her about forty minutes to get to Tysons Galleria. The highway was a mess and she wished she’d taken the side streets instead. She checked her watch. It was ten in the morning, so there was no way this was still rush-hour traffic. Where were all these people going? Most of the cars looked completely packed, like summer vacation preparation on crack.
When she finally pulled in to the mall parking lot, she was surprised to see the place was almost dead. What the hell?
She parked just outside the main entrance and walked up toward the double glass doors, dread growing in her stomach. All she wanted was a few hours where she could forget all the crap that was going on in the world. She wanted to take her mom’s credit card and do some serious retail therapy. But from the looks of the parking lot, she wasn’t sure the stores were even open. Had they closed down the mall?
She tugged at the door with caution, but smiled when it opened. Yay! The mall was open. With a sigh of relief, she pulled off the sunglasses and stuck them inside her bag.
The air was nice and cool inside the mall and after nearly an hour on the highway with the sun beating down on her, she was happy to be indoors. Since budget wasn’t going to be an issue today, she headed straight for Saks. Three stories of shopping bliss.
She didn’t pass a single soul on the way there and she noticed with disappointment that several of the smaller stores were closed. Notes posted on the doors said they were temporarily closed due to illness.
Saks was open and Karmen nearly cheered. Even if she just spent the whole morning in this one store, she’d be happy. She made her way to the shoe department, but after choosing six different pairs to try on, she couldn’t find anyone to help her get the right size. Annoyed, she called out to the empty store.
“Hello?”
No one came running out from the back or from anywhere. She checked the desk for one of those little service bells, but there wasn’t one. This place was just dead.
Annoyed, Karmen peered into the back room where they kept all the shoes. “Hello? Anyone here? I need help with a shoe size, please.”
Still no answer.
Karmen rolled her eyes and gathered the display shoes in her hands, weaving the straps around her fingers so she could carry all six pairs at once. Then, she stepped into the cool room. Shoes were stacked on racks from floor to ceiling. She navigated through the pairs until she found the one she liked best—a pair of ultra red heels. She slipped off one of her mom’s Prada’s and set the red one on the floor, but just as her foot slipped inside, someone screamed.
The sound made her jump about a mile into the air.
At first, she thought maybe the manager had discovered her here in the back and was yelling at her. But when she looked around, she didn’t see anyone.
Her heart thundered against her ribs and her mouth went dry. She leaned against the shoe rack for a second, catching her breath, then peeked around the corner to see if she could figure out who was yelling.
When she looked out into the main department store, she heard another scream to her left. She jerked her head toward the sound, but only caught sight of a rack of clothes as it toppled over. Footsteps clacked against the tile walkway in the distance. More screams. Two or three people now.
And another scream coming from further in the distance. Maybe upstairs?
Karmen backed away from the door. What the hell?
She stood, frozen, not sure where to turn. What if this was some kind of mall shooting? She’d heard of things like that happening before, but she hadn’t heard any shots. But something was obviously terrorizing people out there.
A woman ran into view and Karmen stepped forward again, clutching the door frame. Fear was plastered across the woman’s face. She kept looking behind her, her eyes wide and crazed. Something behind her moved among the clothing racks and Karmen’s mouth dropped open. She looked away, pretending she hadn’t just seen a man with his face covered in blood. What was happening?
The woman screamed again and took off at a run, but somewhere on the other side of a makeup counter, she stumbled and fell to the ground, out of Karmen’s site. The woman’s screams were horrifying and something growled, low and hungry.
Whatever fear had held Karmen to her spot in the dark back room let her go and she ran. She darted through the shoes, past the perfume displays and out into the main mall. Behind her, glass broke and scattered across the floor. She didn’t turn around. Growls and moans echoed through the hallway and something that sounded like bare feet slapped against the floor, running toward her.
She flew through the mall, retracing her steps back to the main entrance. She pushed through the doors and out into the sweltering heat of the mid-morning. When she got to her car, her hands were trembling so badly, she had a hard time getting the key in the ignition.
After several misses, she finally felt the key slide in and she turned it, the car roaring to life. She threw the car in reverse and dared a single glance toward the entrance. Something inside slammed against the glass doors, blood spraying against them.
Karmen screamed and punched the gas, spinning her tires as she sped away.
She took the side streets home this time, and got halfway there before she even noticed she was still wearing one red shoe and one black.
Parrish
The sound of her mother’s voice filled the room.
Parrish let the beauty of it wash over her. The recording was from her mother’s last performance of Madame Butterfly at the Kennedy Center, the year before Zoe was born. Even though they’d had their disagreements, Parrish had always loved to hear her mother sing.
For the first time since her mother’s death, the truth of it all came crashing down on her. Tears flowed out of her like a river of regret. She would never get the chance to tell her mother how much she loved her. Or how sorry she was for every time she’d talked back to her or complained about her obsession with Zoe’s music.
Parrish sank down to her knees on the soft carpet of the living room floor.
Sobs shook her body, and her cries mingled with her mother’s soaring voice. She’d been so good at pushing everyone away, so scared that if she let them know how much she cared, she’d end up hurt. But now she was alone and she’d never really told her parents how much she loved them.
Un bel di, vedremo levarsi un fil di fumo sull’estremo confin del mare. E poi la nave appare.
Her mother’s voice was so pure beautiful. It echoed deep inside Parrish’s heart.
What was she going to do? She was all alone, and she didn’t even know if her father was still alive. Was Zoe still alive? She’d promised her sister she would come for her, but how was she going to get there on her own? She’d been watching the news. The highways were flooded with people trying to get away from the sickness, but the truth was there was nowhere to go. The infection was everywhere.
New York City had to be complete chaos. Everything she’d seen online or the news about the city said there was looting, car accidents and even fires taking over parts of the city. How was she going to find her sister in the middle of all that?
She doubled over and let her head rest against the floor as she cried.
Parrish groaned. The sound began deep in her belly and vibrated up through her ribs and her chest. She pounded her fists against the floor and let her sorrow consume her. Nothing would ever be the same again.
A strange burning coldness on her cheek caught her attention and she sat up suddenly. She raised her hand to her cheek and there it was again. Frozen
tears.
Confused, she stood up and walked to the mirror over her mom’s piano. It was smashed to hell, but there were a few pieces that were still intact. Parrish stared at her reflection in awe. Her violet eyes looked even more purple than usual. They seemed to glow deep inside and there was frost gathering on her eyelashes. She brushed her fingertip across her lash line and tiny flakes of snow flew off into the air.
Her mother’s aria finished, drenching the room in silence. The hairs on the back of her neck pricked up, and Parrish suddenly knew that she wasn’t alone.
Slowly, she turned her head to the right. An older man she didn’t recognize stood in the doorway of her living room. He was dressed in a soldier’s uniform. Camouflage green with thick black boots. His eyes looked funny.
Parrish felt an overpowering urge to flee, but something deep inside calmed her. Her bones hummed with an energy she’d never felt before. Every inch of her body was on alert.
“Can I help you?” she asked. Her voice sounded much calmer than she expected.
The soldier did not answer. He just stared at her with his milky eyes. Drool ran down his chin, and Parrish grimaced. What was he doing in her house? Was he hurt? Did he need help? Something wasn’t right about him. After all the recent news about looters, she wondered if he was here to rob her.
Or worse.
“Take what you need and get out of here,” she shouted.
The soldier took a step forward. He walked with a weird limp, and Parrish thought it looked like maybe he had a broken ankle. It was pointed at an angle that looked extremely painful, but the soldier didn’t even seem to notice. How was he even walking on that thing?
From the corner of her eye, she saw movement on the other side of the room. The front door of her house creaked open. Stepping back, she looked toward the front door and saw another figure lurking in the shadows. The living room had two exits, and now both were blocked by strangers.
The figure in the front hallway stumbled forward. It was a woman. She had grey hair and was wearing a blue nightgown smeared with blood. Unlike the soldier, Parrish recognized this woman as an older lady who lived at the far end of the subdivision, but she couldn’t remember her name. She looked bad. Worse than bad.
As the woman staggered into the room, Parrish saw that her mouth was dripping with dark red blood. Her eyes were glazed over with a milky whiteness, just like the soldier. Something was definitely very wrong. Parrish felt her heartbeat vibrating all the way up through her chest and into her throat. She tried to take in a deep breath, but it felt high and shallow.
The soldier took another awkward step forward. His boot caught on the carpet and she heard an awful crack as his ankle turned all the way around. She looked up at his face in surprise, expecting him to react or scream. Instead, he kept moving toward her, dragging his ankle along the carpet.
Parrish felt her stomach lurch, but she swallowed it back. These people looked similar to how her mom had looked the night she died. Deep, hollow pockets with dark circles under their eyes. Dried out lips and skin. But they were different, too. Worse.
Their eyes looked dead and their skin was almost grey except where the dark bruises made it look more black or dark purple.
How were they even walking if they were so sick? Her mother hadn’t even been able to lift her head toward the end.
“Do you need help?” she asked, reaching for a large shard of broken mirror on top of the piano. The old woman’s head jerked toward her when she moved.
That’s when Parrish remembered the sword. Her katana lay on the floor just out of reach.
The old woman took several steps in Parrish’s direction, her arms reaching forward. A low moan escaped from her open mouth, blood dribbling onto the floor. Parrish stepped backward, her back pressed against the wall.
She didn’t think she’d be able to get to the sword without getting too close to those things.
“What do you want?” Parrish shouted at them, but they still did not answer. “Get out of here!”
The two strangers ignored her shouts. They staggered forward with slow, awkward steps.
Parrish suddenly realized she was cornered. If she didn’t move now, she wouldn’t have any where to turn. She didn’t know exactly what the soldier and the old lady wanted from her, but she knew it couldn’t be good. The closer the woman got to her, the more she started to growl. She bared her teeth like a hungry animal, and Parrish got the creepy feeling the woman wanted to bite her.
The soldier took another step, so close now that Parrish could smell his stink. He was foul, like a rotten melon or a dead rat.
He lunged toward her, his jaw coming unhinged.
She screamed.
Karmen
The music blasting next door was driving her insane. Karmen wasn’t exactly a fan of listening to some woman practically screaming her guts out through a loud speaker. Especially after the day she’d had.
Outside, it was a really nice evening. One of those rare summer nights when the breeze was steady and cool. Karmen had opened the windows in her bedroom after the sun set and the breeze rolled in. Then, she sank down into her comfy bed and pulled the fluffy down comforter over her body. It had been days since she’d really slept.
Losing contact with everyone you know kind of did that to a girl.
Now she had this image of the woman’s face from that department store to deal with, too. She’d never seen such terror in someone’s eyes. And what was up with the bloody man?
Like a miracle, she had actually been able to find sleep despite her gruesome thoughts. For approximately twenty-eight minutes. Then the music started.
At first, Karmen had just tried to ignore it. She didn’t want to unravel herself from her cocoon, so she burrowed in deeper, pulling a pillow over her head.
But the music was so loud.
With all of the windows open, it was practically as if someone was standing in her room singing at the top of their lungs. She knew exactly where the music was coming from, too, which only annoyed her more. Who else would be listening to opera at this hour?
Parrish had been her neighbor for as long as she could remember. They’d even been best friends way back when. But ever since they got to middle school, Parrish had turned into a total weirdo. She stopped talking to her about normal things like boys and clothes. Instead, she started pouting and listening to weird music. Her style completely changed and she just got so depressing. Karmen had no idea what Parrish’s problem was, but she didn’t care.
She just wanted to sleep.
Karmen turned over and pulled the comforter higher over her head, then curled into a fetal position. Nothing made sense anymore. Maybe if she could just get one night of good sleep, she would wake up and her parents would be home and everything could go back to normal.
The music next door quieted for a moment and Karmen felt her body falling, falling back into sleep. Then, bam! Another damn screaming high note. Well, she was sick of it. She thought about calling the police about a noise violation, but then laughed. After what she saw at the mall and on the highway today, the police would probably laugh at her over a noise complaint. She would have to deal with Parrish Sorrows herself.
The covers came flying off of her body and she threw her legs over the side of the bed. All she’d bothered to put on when she got home from the mall was a pair of short pink cheer shorts and a white tank top and sports bra. She briefly thought about changing her clothes and putting on something more neighborhood appropriate. But seriously, who could she possibly run into at almost nine on a random breezy night? Most of the neighborhood was either dead or halfway to God-knows-where at this point anyway.
Instead of changing, Karmen just slipped her feet into her favorite pair of pink flip flops and stomped down the stairs. She hesitated for a brief moment at the door to her house. The last time she walked out that door, she’d managed to walk into some kind of Twilight Zone. Over the past week, her house had become her own private sanctuary where she c
ould shut herself in and pretend the outside world wasn’t a complete freaking mess.
When she left, she had to face the truth. And it wasn’t a truth she liked very much.
Still, the roaring sound of the orchestra next door renewed her determination and she turned the doorknob and stepped outside. Every step she took in the direction of Parrish’s house fueled her fire. Who did she think she was anyway? Queen of the neighborhood? Didn’t she realize there were people still living on this street who were grieving? And what about the people who were sick in bed and needed their sleep?
Sure, she’d heard about Parrish’s mom dying. Everyone on the block had heard about it by now. But being sad didn’t give her the right to disturb everyone on the street. A lot of people were upset over the death of someone close to them. Including Karmen. She was alone too, but you didn’t hear her blaring music at six hundred decibels when the neighborhood was trying to sleep.
Karmen stomped up the front steps, ready to knock on the door. Only, the door was already open. Karmen reached just inside and knocked as loud as she could, hoping to be heard over the sound of the music.
“Hello?” she called out. A chill ran down her back as she realized this was a replay of the scene from earlier.
At her feet, a broken glass picture frame littered the floor. It was a picture of one of Zoe’s big performances. Drops of dark red blood were smeared across the edge of the frame. Something in her stomach told her to turn and run.
She just wanted out of this nightmare.
She turned to go, but then the music stopped. It was as if the sound was sucked out of the room. Her ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton for a moment. Then she heard it. The same strange, low growl she’d heard in Saks.