by Willow Rose
Seconds later, Kevin stood in front of her, eyes wide and fearful.
"Kevin?"
He tried to walk, his body rattling and clanking loudly as he did. He looked at his hands and feet, then up at her for answers. He took another step towards her, every bone in his body clinking, rattling, and shaking as he did.
Jetta pulled back again.
Kevin's dark hollow eyes looked at her.
He stepped closer.
Jetta backed up again.
He walked closer again, reaching out his hand. It seemed that he was getting more agile the more he moved.
Jetta didn't pull back this time. She waited for him to come closer. Then she reached out her hand and grabbed his. It felt strange. The skin was grayish and a white substance covered it in places. It looked very dry. She liked the way he smelled. It reminded her of walking through a forest after the rain.
Before it was forbidden for black people to enter, she remembered walking through City Park in the heart of New Orleans after going on the carousel and riding the horses with her grandmother. When there was a rainstorm, the trees and leaves would always smell exactly like this afterward.
"What's it like," she whispered. "To be dead?"
Kevin looked down at his body, then back up at her. He shrugged. She realized he couldn't talk. Jetta bit her lip, wondering about her grandmother. "I bet it's lonely."
"What are you doing?"
The voice coming from behind her belonged to Tyler. Jetta turned around with a gasp and looked into his eyes.
"I…I was just…"
"Why are you awake, J? And running around? What if you're seen by a drone?"
"I…I was just talking to…" she turned her head, but Kevin was no longer there. The blanket was back on top of him, covering him completely.
Tyler looked suspiciously at her. "Are you alright, Little J?" He reached inside the hoodie and felt her forehead like he always did, annoying her with all his worrying.
"I'm fine," she growled.
"All right. All right. Just checkin'," he said and removed his hand.
He threw a glance around the room, then whispered. "Now, go back to sleep before someone else wakes up and you're in trouble."
Jetta nodded. She knew Tyler was afraid of John and of angering him further. He blamed losing Kevin on Jetta and Tyler and was just looking for an excuse to start a new fight. Tyler had been very good at not taking the bait and not answering back when the accusations came, not taking it personally, but they also knew that it wasn't going to last.
"I'm exhausted anyway," Jetta said and stretched. "I'll go to sleep now."
Tyler smiled. "Sleep tight, Little J."
Chapter 24
No one came. Not that day or the next two days. Tyler sat by the door every day while the rest of them slept, but no one came. There was no basket, no opening of the door, no people on the other side. There were no sounds coming from downstairs either and that had them worried. Had the Johnsons left? Had they been captured on one of their trips to the ghetto?
It didn't take long before panic simmered among them, fueled by their growing fear.
"We can't just wait here till we starve to death," John said. "We have barely any food left and then what?"
He looked at his wife as if he expected her to at least have an answer. Her eyes avoided his as they had ever since their son had passed away. Instead, she focused on their other son, Clive. She barely let go of him even to go to the bathroom.
Jetta stared at her, wondering if she would feel better if she told her that she saw Kevin every day when everyone else was asleep. He usually woke her up at some point while she was speaking to the antelope that had become a daily part of her dreams, just as Kevin became a daily part of her waking hours.
It was funny how Jetta and Kevin never spoke while he was still alive, but now they hung out for hours on end. She even went so far as to show him her entire face, knowing that he would never be able to tell anyone.
He touched it with his bony finger. Dying had made him skinnier than when alive and some might have found the way he looked creepy, but not Jetta.
Now Jetta sighed and looked at the poor woman, who hadn't said a word to anyone since her child died and wondered if she should tell her Kevin was still there but then decided against it. What could she tell her that would make her feel better? That he was now a ghost or a dead person walking the attic and only she could see him? That he was skinny and had hollow eyes, even though they still looked like his eyes, or that he rattled when he walked? None of it seemed very comforting for a mother to hear. She probably imagined him in some green pasture somewhere or a field of flowers running around with other children, playing. Roaming the attic as a lonely speechless ghost wasn't the fate you'd want for your child.
"And the smell," John continued, groaning in agony. "I can't stand the smell of my son, my son, rotting over there. Do you have any idea what it feels like? How much torture it is to know that your son is lying over there, dead, decaying and meanwhile you're just waiting to die yourself?"
Jetta walked past John with a sniffle. Nope. No smell of rain. John wasn't about to die. But she could hardly tell him that.
"I'm so hungry," he groaned, hugging his stomach.
Jetta filled her cup with some water from the faucet and drank while looking at Tyler. John had given up on keeping her and Tyler away from him and telling them not to touch anything. It had kind of stopped on its own when his own son had gotten sick.
Tyler looked tired. His cheeks were hollower, his eyes bigger than usual. Above his tank top—which once was white—she could see his collarbone sticking out. The same went for the rest of them in the attic. She looked down at herself and wondered why she didn't look like that. Why no bones stuck out on her and why she felt no hunger at all? Well, she did feel a little hunger, but she wasn't really starving. She wasn't famished. Why was that? She couldn't even remember when she had last eaten, and she didn't really care. It was like it didn't really matter to her. Not in the same way it did to the others.
That day, when she woke from her sleep, it wasn't just Kevin who waited for her in the attic. With him, he had Mr. Richards and Jetta's grandmother.
Chapter 25
"You took the last piece of bread."
Jetta woke up to the sound of yelling. She had been awake earlier in the day while the others slept, hanging with her new dead friends, and had slept in a little longer to make up for the lost hours. It was John who was doing the yelling and now he was attacking Tyler.
"I knew you'd be the death of me," he yelled and punched Tyler on the nose. Blood came out and Tyler wiped it off.
As Tyler rose to his feet, John backed up, realizing he would never stand a chance against him. Still, he was a lot older than Tyler and believed he had the right to scold him for taking the last piece of bread.
"John," Alyssa said from the corner. Her voice was feeble. It was the first time she had spoken since Kevin died.
John turned and looked at her.
"I…took it," she said. "For Clive."
All eyes were on the small child who was nothing but bones by now. Jetta had been sitting with him some nights, making sure she couldn't smell anything on him and, luckily, she couldn't. He was a fighter and not on the edge of death, even though he appeared to be. Alyssa, on the other hand, had started to smell, Jetta realized when she approached them and sat down. She had been spending some time with the two of them the past few nights because she sensed Kevin wanted her to. He was worried about them, especially about his mother, whom he could see but not touch. And she couldn't see him. It had to be the loneliest feeling in the world.
John became quiet. He sat down heavily on a chair and hid his face in his hands. His eyes were watering.
"It's the damn smell," he said. "Makes me want to puke."
He walked to the window, as he had done so many times before at night, talking about how they might have to jump out or tie blankets together and see how far
it would take them. The problem was that they were on the fourth floor and the window was facing upwards, so they had no idea what was below them, if there was a balcony or anything they could land on. Plus, they risked being seen by the drones and shot on the spot. It wasn't a window you could open, so they'd have to break it, and the sound of glass shattering would attract attention right away.
"Sometimes, I think we should just…" he put his fist on the glass, like he was marking it, his face strained. He didn't even see the drone looking back at him through the glass.
Tyler fell to his knees in exhaustion. The big guy was running on his last reserves. Jetta knew he was and ran to him.
"Tyler. Are you all right?"
He nodded, his face ash-grey, his eyes hopeless. "I'm fine, J. I'm fine. Don't worry." He moaned when he spoke.
"I'll get you some water," Jetta said and ran to the faucet. She filled a cup with water when Alyssa suddenly opened her eyes wide. She spoke in a whisper:
"Sh. I heard something." She pointed to the stairs. "Someone is down there."
Chapter 26
They remained quiet. Jetta sat on the floor, hiding in Tyler's arms. From beneath them came loud noises, sounding like someone was breaking in. They immediately knew it wasn't the Johnsons. There were voices, loud commanding voices, and boots. And then there was the sound of drones, whirring in the air.
Soldiers.
Jetta crept closer to Tyler. John was sitting in the chair, staring at the stairwell leading downstairs. It looked like he was debating with himself. Probably contemplating what would be worse. Staying in here, starving to death or getting sick from some disease, or getting shot by soldiers. There was, after all, still the chance that they would simply take them to a prison, wasn't there?
Jetta couldn't blame him for thinking like that. She had to admit, she did too. She was sick of being locked up in this place, not knowing how long she would have to stay here, and she wasn't even dying from hunger like the rest of them.
Tyler was shaking with fear. It was the first time Jetta had seen him scared like this. She felt it too. A deep fear of what was on the other side of the door. Who was on the other side and what would they do to them.
There was fumbling by the heavy door and the latch unhooked.
They had found the secret door.
As they heard the door being opened, it filled Jetta with some sort of relief at first, but as the first drone entered through the air, she was once again overwhelmed with fear. Alyssa let out a loud scream when the drone whirred above her head, shining its red spotlight at her, scanning her face. Soon, more followed, and seconds later, the sound of boots on the stairs drowned out everything else, even Alyssa's screams. Soldiers filled the attic, grabbing each and every one of their skinny bodies, lifting them into the air, carrying them down the stairs. Jetta was screaming and kicking and telling them to let her down, but as she was carried outside and she felt the moist air on her skin, she stopped immediately and simply took in a deep breath, closing her eyes, thinking maybe Tyler had been right.
Anywhere is better than that attic. Maybe even death.
She was put into the back of a truck. Tyler was next to her, John, Alyssa, and Clive with them. The back was closed. Once again, they were surrounded by darkness, and the truck began to move. Five soldiers were with them in the back. If they were robots, she didn't know. They made them so lifelike, looking so much like average white men, she had no idea if they were human or not. Their eyes seemed deprived of all humanity. She and Tyler stuck together, holding each other as the truck bounced along.
"Where are they taking us?" John asked. "Where are you taking us? Hey, I have rights. I’m white like you are."
A soldier approached him and turned his gun on him.
"Traitor," he said, "Your kind is the worst."
Then he hit him with the handle of the gun. The blow knocked John to the ground. Alyssa screamed and held Clive closer, while John lay face down, blood streaming from the side of his head.
Jetta hid in Tyler's arms, realizing she didn't want to die, after all, suddenly missing the safety of the attic.
They drove for about an hour or so when suddenly something happened. Something Jetta would have difficulty explaining later in life. As she was sitting in Tyler's arms, she heard a sound, like a whisper in the wind. She felt like it was calling her name, but thought she had to be wrong. Seconds later, the truck drove off the road and ended up in a ditch. The soldiers jumped for the door and ran outside, where they were decapitated in one stroke, like there had been an invisible string in the air, cutting their throats. That was when Jetta realized they hadn't been robots. These were real. Blood spurted out from the decapitated necks, and their dead bodies sank into the grass.
The truck wasn't alone. There were two cars following them, each containing five soldiers. They stopped and the soldiers came running, yelling at them as they all made a run for it. John had woken up and pulled Alyssa and Clive out of the truck before they ran across the road trying to get to the other side, while Tyler grabbed Jetta and they sprinted for the swamps. Soldiers were quickly on their tail, yelling and shooting at them.
Jetta heard the sound once again, like a whispering wind. It was calling her name and Jetta stopped to look back and see the two soldiers being decapitated out of thin air and that was when she saw it. Or them. In what appeared like a fog, she spotted what looked almost like an army.
An army of dead people.
They were fighting the soldiers, who had no idea what was hitting them.
Tyler grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the forest. Jetta was running when suddenly Tyler fell to the ground. Jetta screamed when she saw the blood coming from his leg.
"Run, Jetta. Run. I’ve been shot. You can make it. I can't."
"I can't just leave you, Tyler!"
"Yes, yes, you can. Now, go."
"I won't. I won't leave you, Tyler."
He looked up at her, a pool of blood in the grass next to him. He was gasping for air as he spoke, "Look at me. You'll be fine, you hear me, Little J? You're the strongest little girl I have ever met. You'll be fine. Now, run."
Jetta looked at the soldiers rushing toward her. "I'll be back for you, Tyler. I promise."
"Just go."
"I promise, Tyler," she cried.
"GO!"
As the soldier who had shot Tyler approached her, yelling at her to stop, Jetta turned around and ran, ran so fast her legs hurt. Drones were closing in on her from above, shooting at her. She didn't even see the dead man kicking the soldier's rifle as he took aim. The kick forced the rifle to move so the soldier missed her and shot down one of the drones instead, letting Jetta escape safely into the dense swamps.
Chapter 27
Jetta hid in the swamps for days. Covered by the trees and walking through thick murky water, she managed to stay away from the drones circling in the air above. She was scared to death but most of all worried about Tyler, worrying what they would do to him and wondering whether he was still alive.
On the second day of hiding, she realized she wasn't alone. A sound from behind her as she walked through the waist-high dark water made her turn her head with a gasp.
"Who’s there?"
A head poked out from behind a tree. It belonged to her grandmother. "Nanna! You scared me."
Nanna giggled soundlessly and approached her. Kevin and Mr. Richards followed close behind her.
Jetta smiled as they came closer. It felt good to not be all alone. Jetta sighed and walked on, the three of them following her closely, their bones rattling loudly while they walked, especially when on dry land.
Nanna kept Jetta from losing hope by sitting with her, holding her when she took breaks, or listening to her talk when she walked. Jetta would tell her the same stories that Nanna used to tell her when she was younger, stories of the spirits and gods. Just like when she was younger, the stories made her feel fierce and forget the trouble she was in. Nanna had talked about the g
ods who created the Earth and how they placed a pet serpent underneath the Earth to keep it from tipping over because everything they had created could not be supported. So, they made the serpent curl up under the Earth by biting its own tail to form a cushion to keep the Earth in place.
"It's all about balance," Nanna had added, and now Jetta was repeating it. "Everything in this world needs to be balanced. Have you heard about Obatala? Obatala was tasked by the sky god to create the world. But on his way to doing his job, Obatala found some other gods having a party and stayed at the party instead, getting very drunk. Obatala's younger brother, Oduduwa took advantage of this, stole Obatala's supplies, and created the world himself. Now, Obatala's father, the sky god, Olorun was very disappointed in this and especially in Obatala. He decided to give him a second chance to prove his worth and told him to create humans. But alas, Obatala did this drunk too, hence the reason humans are so imperfect."
The story made Jetta laugh as she walked.
"Have I told you about the god of thunder and storms?" she said, remembering it as being her favorite story.
"Used to be a big king, you know. In West Africa. King of the ancient Oyo Empire and of the Yoruba people. Now, he was a very powerful king, but some people thought he was unfair. When two of his ministers challenged him for the throne, he fled into the forest. He wandered there alone for a long time and eventually hung himself from a tree. But after he died, his enemies' houses were set on fire and burned to the ground. People started to believe that the king had set them on fire, sending fire bolts at them from the heavens. It is believed that he hurls thunderstones to Earth, killing those who offend him or setting their houses afire," she said. "It is said that when he speaks, fire comes out of his mouth. And he creates the thunder using his drum." She raised her finger. "But he is nothing without his wife. The goddess of Niger River. She goes before him. She is the strong wind that comes before a thunderstorm. Once you feel that wind on your face, you know the god of storms is on his way. She blows roofs off houses, knocks down large trees, and fans the fires from her husband into a high blaze. It is said that without her, the god of storms cannot fight. It is often said that his wife is fiercer than he."