In seconds, he was on me―pulling at my hair, my clothes, smelling and licking my skin. I couldn’t tell if he wanted to violate me or just eat me. The look in his eyes told me it might be both. There was no more 911, and if there were, they couldn’t help me. There were probably no more police, or ambulances to run to my rescue. I would have to save myself, so I didn’t waste any time; I kicked and punched as much and as hard as I possibly could.
He was leaning me backwards over the countertop in the kitchen, fumbling with the waistband of his pants, licking up my exposed upper chest and neck, confirming one of my thoughts as he continued to assault me.
I frantically scoured the area for anything I could use as a weapon, but there was nothing in sight. The only thing close was a pile of papers. When I looked closer, yesterday’s newspaper was poking up at an odd angle, like a tent. Of all the odd things that someone would have in their home, I see that it’s a receipt holder. I bought it at a yard sale last month and was using it to keep the bills that I had paid.
I whipped my hand out and tried to grab it, but it was too far away. I leaned as hard as I could to the side while the man on top of me continued to fondle and squeeze whatever areas he pleased. Thank God he didn’t notice what I was reaching for. My fingertips were finally gaining purchase, so I put all my remaining strength into the stretch. Finally, I was able to wrap my fingers around the round metal base of the ticket holder. I use its sharp pointed end as a dagger, stabbing the crazed man in the side of the neck repeatedly, afraid that if I stop, he’ll keep coming for me.
He gasped and immediately stumbled back, grasping his neck. I heard a strangled, ‘Thank you,’ before falling to his knees and toppling over, still gasping for breath that was becoming more shallow by the second.
Dropping to my knees, I began to cry at the same time the man took his last breath. I had stabbed him in the neck and head several times. As I watched blood and other things leave his body, I knew my world would never be the same again.
Chapter 3
Gasping awake in the cold rain was not something I enjoyed doing at sunrise. However, that was exactly how I woke. I wished for rain to fill my canteens and got more than I had bargained for. My clothes were soaked, my hair was matted to my face, and no there was no better shelter in sight. My little angel slept under the only tarp we had, just big enough for her to lay under without getting wet.
The clouds looked like they’d be around for a while and the smell of rain was still strong in the air. The only thing left to do was find shelter. The buildings were skeletons of their former selves and the few that survived were given a wide birth. You never knew what you would stumble across going into one of those places. I always found it safer to look for deserted areas with some form of coverage to keep eyes away from us. We stayed out in the open and as long as I found us a good spot, I knew we were safer there outside than inside of any structure. When people were looking for a safe place to stay, they usually found it indoors, so I’ve always done the opposite.
The rain lets off a bit, giving us a small reprieve, so I use the time to pack up, eat, and go out in search for shelter against the weather. We finally find it around dusk. I spotted a nice place out in the middle of nowhere with a big oak tree that stood strong, about five miles outside of town. Its branches would hold most of the rain off of us; enough to allow me to sleep through the night.
My angel is good about our travels. I think it’s because she’s so used to having to be quiet when we walk. We’ve always been on the move since she was born. My heart aches for her, not being able to have a normal childhood, and me not being able to give it to her.
Azami, my little angel, seemed to be the right weight and height. She’s never been sick and always has a healthy glow. For a two year old, about to be three, she seems exceptionally smart. When she was born, I found a book about exotic flowers and named her after a thorn flower because she was the result of a horrible act, but is so beautiful and sweet. She’s my everything.
“Azami, baby, you want to stay at a big tree tonight?” I ask while she hangs onto my pointer finger as we walk.
Her big, bright blue eyes, that are so much like her fathers, grow wider than saucers as she smiles up at me. She nodded, bouncing with excitement, “Twee, Mama. Twee.” I laughed at her and swung her arm back and forth. Heavens, I love this child. I don’t know what I would do without her.
About fifty yards away, excitement started building inside of me too. Finally, a safe, dry place to hang my head for a night. Those moments were always cherished. The same mindless landscape filled my vision in every direction as we skipped toward the tree. We were still a few yards away when something bright popped out of the tree trunk and then disappeared seconds later.
I froze in my tracks, tugging Azami to an abrupt stop. That didn’t look like any kind of animal. My brain started to send out alarms, telling me to turn around and walk away, but something stronger was pulling me toward the tree. I should have ran as far away as possible, considering that I could be putting our lives in jeopardy because of my curiosity, but my gut was telling me to not be afraid. We continued to walk at a slower, more cautious pace. Whoever it was already knew we were here, and I stopped only a handful of steps away.
“Hello?” I managed to squeak out. “Is anyone there? Please, we don’t want any trouble. We don’t have anything. We’re just looking for a place out of the rain and we’ll be gone at first light.” I paused, waiting for something to run out and attack me. “Hel…” I began to repeat, but stopped when a head popped its way out of the tree trunk again.
“Hello.” A blond boy said, looking back and forth between Azami and me.
“Hello.” I repeated, unsure as to why he would be the person to come out and greet me.
We continued staring at one another, each one assessing the other. After our silent conversation, he must have deemed us fit because he finished exiting the tree and stood before us. The boy was about eleven or twelve, with bright blond hair, thin, and in dirty, tattered clothing. His eyes are what stood out over his appearance. They were a bright, brilliant blue, like a clear summer sky. They matched Azami’s so much that you would have sworn they were related.
“Umm… you two can stay here if you want.” His voice is shaking with nervousness.
“Oh, well, where are your parents? I can speak with them, or your guardian, if you have one?” I asked, afraid I already knew the answer.
His eyes grew sad and he looked to the ground before answering. “My mom died in the bright light. My father died when I was one.” He tried unsuccessfully to crack a smile in my direction.
“Are you here alone then?”
“Yes.” He nodded sharply.
Azami took a few more steps in his direction and I followed, agreeing with her assessment. We wanted to stay here with him. He shuffled back against the tree, a natural instinct to defend himself if need be as we approached.
“How have you made it this long on your own? You’re so young?” I asked.
The smile that stretched across his face was real, pride swelling inside him. “Come on in and we can talk about it.” He waved us toward the entrance of the tree, stealing little glances at Azami.
When we reached him, he stepped aside and I crouched down to fit inside the trunk, Azami attached to my side. Once inside, the trunk opened up into a room, a giant fort. That was what immediately sprang to mind while I looked around. Azami was going to love it here.
The inside of the trunk had been dug out, along with part of the ground underneath of the tree. It was quite cozy, actually. A couple of solar lanterns were clutching the inside of the wall and a dark blue, beat up chair with stuffing hanging out of one arm, sat against one wall while a double sized mattress sat parallel, along the other wall. Papers hung from any bare surface–like decorations on a fridge–of newspaper clippings from days before the Flash.
“I like to read and keep the ones I find.” The boy said, cutting into my mesmerized state
.
I nodded and continued to read while the boy moved about behind me. I was too distracted by the paper clippings to realize what he was doing until he handed Azami a bowl of chunky soup.
She looked up at him and smiled.
The boy loaded another bowl and handed it to me. Stirring the soup, I took notice of all the different textures; potatoes, carrots, and green beans. The smell was invigorating and I couldn’t help but look at him in wonder. He smiled at me, again pleased with himself. I leaned against the wall and slouched to the dirt floor. Azami immediately crawled into my lap so we could eat together. The warm liquid filled my mouth with bursting flavors. I’ve had soups over the last few years, but it’d been a long time since I’d eaten something warm.
“Thank you.” I said, filling up another spoonful.
He nodded in my direction, taking a bite of his own.
“Tank oou.” Azami said to him with a big smile. I looked at her, shocked. She always hid when other people were near and she definitely did NOT talk to them.
“So what’s your name?” He smiled brightly at Azami.
Azami pushed off my lap to sit on the floor in front of me. She pointed at herself and said, “Az,” and then patted my leg and said, “Mama.”
The boy popped one more bite into his mouth and then looked up at me for clarification.
“My name is Lillian, but people always called me Lillie. This here is Azami―Az for short. Azami is kind of a mouth full for her.” I laughed, looking down at her. Azami was staring back at me like she knew exactly what I was talking about. “What’s your name?” I asked him.
“My name is James. It’s very nice to meet you, Az and Lillie.” he said, looking at Azami while he spoke. He looked like he was excited to have another kid around, even if she was only two.
“It’s nice to meet you and see that you’ve made it here on your own. It’s very impressive. Listen, I don’t mean to pry, but would you mind if I asked you a few questions?”
“Sure. Fire away.” James said, like we were old friends. He sat his bowl down next to him in the dirt and scooted closer to Azami.
“Well, I’m actually interested in everything. Where you were before the Flash? What was your family like? How did you manage to survive after the Flash, and how you came to be here? Can you just start at the beginning and go until now? I haven’t talked to anyone in so long, it would be nice to hear your story. I don’t have to be anywhere any time soon.” A friendly smile stretched across my lips at my lame attempt at cutting the tension.
“Sure. Some of it’s not that nice, though.” He ducked his head, eyes cast to the floor, drawing in the dirt.
“Well, if any of your journey is too difficult to share, just skip that part.”
He nodded in approval and told me his history while Azami assisted him in drawing in the dirt. “Well, the Flash happened when I was nine. I lived with my mother, Sonia and my brother, Ian. She worked as a nurse and my brother was in his first year of college.
“It was a normal day. My mom had gotten off work and picked me up from my babysitter’s house. On our way home is when it happened. The light was so bright. My mom slammed on the brakes and skidded to a stop and I heard cars slamming into each other, metal screeching against metal, glass being shattered around us,” He stopped to take in a shaky breath. “Finally, the light went away, but I still couldn’t see. It blinded me for what seemed like hours. Sounds fell so silent that I could hear ringing in my ears. My mom was behind the steering wheel, motionless. I called for her over and over, and when she didn’t answer, I climbed into the front seat to find her dead. I cried for the longest time. I didn’t leave the car for a whole day. When I finally began to think about leaving, I realized I’d never heard anyone else cry or scream. I started to look around and understood why. I was the only one left. All the people in the cars around me were dead, just like my mom. I walked back home, hoping my brother would come to look for me, but he never did.
“When I got to the house, I locked myself in. The first night I turned the TV on. There was some guy talking about a chemical weapon and everyone being dead except for some people who seemed to be Immune. He looked weird though. He had what I thought were warts, but they were blisters, all over his hands and face. He said that if you weren’t Immune, you would get them too. I remember crying again, scared to death that I was gonna look like that soon.”
“I grabbed all the food we had in the house and made a pile, knowing I would have to save what I had. After about a week, people started coming through the houses. I could see them in my head before they would come inside, giving me time to hide.”
“Wait a minute. You saw them in your head?” I asked.
He nodded and continued. “Since the Flash, I’ve been able to see things in my head before they happen. I saw you two coming. I’m happy to finally have someone here. We’re going to be great friends.” His smile was contagious; I could feel the corner of my lips lift. “So, where was I? Oh, yeah, so too many people were coming into the apartment, some of them looked normal and others had those big blisters all over them. I always hid in the ventilation system because no one would ever think to look there. They only looked for food and took water with them. Most of my food was hidden in the ventilation system too. After I saw a clear path in my head, I decided to find another home. I walked to lots of places. I even drove across a couple of towns. That was fun. But now, here I am. I was fortunate not to have to deal with many people on the way. My sight, that’s what I call it, helps me avoid them.”
“Well, thank you. I’m glad you wanted to meet us.” I said with all honesty.
“I haven’t had someone to play with in forever.” Az smiled up at him at the word play.
“I can’t believe how young you were when it all happened. I was your age, fourteen, when it all went to hell. My birthday is today. I’m twenty.”
“How do you know that?” He sat up straighter, interest clearly written on his face.
My smile stretched wider. Bringing my backpack around to the front of my body, I pulled out the calendar I found earlier in the day and handed it to him, along with my self-made calendar.
James’s eyes lit up like Christmas morning. “Wow! Where did you get this? What’s today?” He glanced at me expectantly.
“Today is June 20, 2054. I know for sure because each day I make a mark on this paper.” I pointed and showed him the consecutive lines on the page. “I marked each day after the Flash so I would never forget. I sat down yesterday morning and added it up. I’m positive that today is June 20th. When is your birthday?”
He paused before answering, still looking at the calendar. “My birthday is September 6. I’ll be fifteen in three months. I never thought I would even make it this far.” He laughed through his words.
After a bit more conversation, we decided it was time to sleep. Azami had long since passed out in my lap. James shared his mattress with us, saying we would be as close as family. I liked the sound of that; I’ve never had any family, other than Azami. This was a good change from the lonely nights we’ve had over the last few years. The night ended on a pleasant note for once. I was comfortable. I could lay my daughter down to sleep and know we were safe.
“Goodnight, James.” I whispered in the dark while stroking Azami’s hair.
“Goodnight, Lillie. Thanks for coming.”
I smiled in the dark and patted his arm, drifting off in the company of my new extended family.
Chapter 4
Over the next year, we lived in the tree with James. We had so much fun together and we got along. Occasionally, we would have to venture into town and pick up more supplies, and James’s sight helped us tremendously. It kept us clear of people, even though we rarely ever encountered anyone else. It made scouting less worrisome with Azami.
I shared the sensitive areas of my past, being shoved around from foster home to foster home. Most of them were short stays; no one ever wanted to keep a child that was not their own arou
nd for long. There were the placements that only took you in for the money the state paid, or because it was the husbands idea, and we all know what most of them want from a young, teenage girl. I was lucky to avoid all situations that arose in that area.
There were rare times that a family would be willing to keep me for a couple of years. I got lucky when I was seven; a family took me in for three years. By that time, I had grown accustomed to not letting anyone into my emotions. I would say they were the closest thing I had to a Mom and Dad.
Samantha and Thomas couldn’t have children of their own and decided to foster instead. They were in their late thirties, and while I was with them, she got sick with cancer. I was ten. They said they loved me but didn’t want me to have to see her suffer. I knew she passed away a few short months after I was placed into another home. The likelihood that Thomas survived the Flash was slim to none.
I’ve never told anyone those stories until James came along. I was opening my heart to someone else and it took the end of the world to do it. James couldn’t remember as many memories as I could. He was so young at the time of the Flash. He told me about his family, and how his mother worked so many hours, but always found the time to tuck him in and read him a story every night. His father was in the Marines and had died in combat shortly after he turned one. Overall, he spoke mostly about Ian, his older brother.
Ian started his first year of college during the time of the Flash, and James was unable to find him, so he assumed that Ian didn’t make it. He told me stories about how Ian always made time for him by playing tag in the back yard, or Nerf football at the park. He missed his mother and brother desperately, and my heart broke for him.
Flash Series (Book 1): Infected Page 2