Ophelia

by Briana Rain

  They also probably didn't want to reuse anything I'd touched.

  Clyde turned around at the dull thud of metal hitting metal. I was about to say something to him, about the scratches, but I saw he’d been talking with somebody, and I saw who it was.

  Sparkplug smirked at me, way too confidently, and winked. I decided that I'd rather face a tipsy Roger than him, even if Clyde was there, so I did a one-eighty and got the heck out of there. I wanted to wash my hands, but it would have to wait. I wiped my hands on my jeans as I quickly walked away.

  Back at the table, Needles was sitting in my chair, talking to Mom, but he politely got up when he saw me. I sat down.

  Needles was about Clyde's age, maybe younger, maybe older. He had dark skin, and even darker hair that was above his collar, but almost covered his eyes. If I was still in school, my friends and I probably would’ve stole glances and whispered about him.

  “So, we were ass deep in the suckers.” Roger said. “Zombies every—“ He burped. “—where. But then I spotted those ATV’s just sitting in someone's—“ A hiccup interrupted the riveting tale. “—yard, so we snatched those suckers up and away we went! Barely made it out of there by the hair on our—“

  Needles came back, pulled up an abandoned chair and sat next to me, holding a first aid kit. I glanced at Roger, who didn't seem to notice or seem to care.

  “I was studying to be a nurse.” Needles said. “Wires was vet… and we're the closest thing to doctors around here.”

  He seemed like he was apologizing, and clicked open the kit. He pulled out a few simple things I recognized. Apparently, they had a special roll of duct tape that was only used for medical purposes.

  He held a mirror, and told me what to do. First, I used an alcohol wipe, which took longer than it should have. It stung so much. I wanted Mom, who was sitting a few feet away, watching, to say anything, but every time I looked at her, she was either crying, or on the verge of it again.

  I was glad the twins were distracted. They didn't need to see any of this. They didn't need to know any of this.

  Even though it hurt, I didn't make a sound. After that part was over, Needles unrolled a small piece of gauze, and stuck a few pieces of the duct tape to the table. It would've been a lot easier and quicker if he’d done it, but I eventually got it.

  My hands weren't shaking anymore.

  Needles left, taking the first aid kit and the chair with him.

  “Thank you.” I said when I realized that he was practically running away, like Wires did earlier. Needles stopped a few feet away and turned around. He looked at me for a long moment, and nodded once. Then, he walked into the kitchen, not saying a word.

  I closed my eyes, and tried not to listen to Rogers roaring laughter. I felt pity for Addeline, because that laughter was right in her ear.

  She just sat there. But what else could you do in a situation like that? I mean, the guy had taken us in and given us food, shelter, water, and safety.

  Thank you, Addeline.

  It wasn't long after that the men started dispatching to their rooms. Clyde returned as Sparkplug exited the room, making a point to look at me when he left.

  Creep.

  “Roger?” Mom said.

  Roger looked up from yet another story he was butchering while trying to flirt with Addeline. He said something, but his words were slurred. I'd never really been around people who drink, so I had no experience with decoding the noises that came out of this mans’ mouth.

  I glanced at Clyde at the same time he glanced at me. He did not look happy.

  “Where can we sleep?” My mother asked.

  Roger mumbled something to himself, and I heard words that sounded suspiciously like my and bed.

  After he caught his breath from laughing so hard, he answered her.

  “Here'ssss the only space we’vvvve got. Wires!”

  The amateur magician looked up from teaching Vi and Lucky something with a card.

  “Get our guests some blankets, would jah?”

  The couch was now open, and Vi noticed as Wires walked past it.

  “I call couch!” She yelled, and sprinted from across the room to it. She was a pretty good sprinter. Very fast. Faster than Lucky, apparently, as she collapsed onto the cushions seconds before Lucky was even close to it. He was not happy about it at all.

  “That's not fair!” He yelled. “You can't have the whole thing!” He stomped his foot and turned to Mom with bags under his eyes.

  “You snooze, you l—“

  “Kids.” Mom interrupted Vi and ended the bickering, thankfully. She pulled out the ever so stern ‘mom voice’, “You two will share it.”

  There was a chorus of “But Mooooom’s.”

  But they knew that in the end, her word was law, and they had to follow it. So Vi rolled her eyes and tucked in her feet to graciously allow Lucky to sit on the opposite side of the couch. Once he was settled, she stretched her legs back out, only for Lucky to kick her.

  “Stay on your side.”

  “You stay on your side.”

  A couple more of those were exchanged, along some kicking, but Mom sorted it out. The twins were just tired, and when they were tired, they were grumpy.

  Roger excused himself as soon as Wires was back in the room, looking sick. It was either the alcohol or from listening to the twins.

  Or both. Probably both.

  Viola and Puck had to share a blanket, granted, it was the largest blanket that was brought out and covered them both, but they still weren't happy about it. The rest of my group, excluding me, got one.

  I understood.

  Clyde saw this, and started to bring out his own blanket, but I quickly shook my head. He raised his eyebrows, but wordlessly zipped up the bag.

  Mom sat against the couch, next to the twins. Addeline laid on the floor next to the couch, in a strategically good place, so that she was hidden from the doorway. Clyde hooked the chair that his sister was just in with his boot and smoothly turned it around to face him. He propped his boots up, leaned back, crossed his arms over his chest, and closed his eyes.

  The table I was sitting at was the closest to the couch. I decided to put some distance between me and my family, and stood up. I picked my pack and bat off of the floor and shuffled toward the other side of the room.

  “Lights out!” Someone yelled from deeper inside the station.

  And indeed the lights were shut off. Not just for our room but for the entire building. In the dark, I felt the rest of the way to the other end of the room, and sat down in the corner that was farthest away from them.

  I checked my watch, and it was just after two. I should’ve been exhausted.

  But I felt more awake than I had been this whole night, because of one thing: fear. I felt uneasy, not only about this place, but also about myself. I was afraid that I would fall asleep, and never wake up again. I mean, I would wake up, but it wouldn't be me.

  I didn't feel any different. Just a headache. Maybe that was how it started. Maybe it was the virus worming its way into my brain, beginning to take control over me.

  I considered taking out my phone and scrolling through the pictures to remember the good times. I think I may’ve even had a pair of earbuds somewhere. I could listen to some of my favorite music before I… before I…

  But I decided against it. I didn't want to use my flashlight and make a bunch of noise going through my backpack. The others needed sleep. They deserved it.

  So I just sat there. In the dark. Awake. Alone. Waiting. Fearing.

  I sat there for awhile, and had gotten used to the silence. So, when I heard a creak and some shuffling, even though it was quiet, I noticed. Every light was off, and thick blankets and boards covered the windows, so I couldn't see a thing. The sound started on the other side of the room, where everyone else was, but also where the doorway was, and came towards me. I didn't bother to stand up, or pick up my bat. If someone coming to finish me off before I hurt anyone, I wouldn't stop them
.

  The shuffling was right in front of me. If they came any closer, they'd step on me. There was a small click, and I saw Clyde's face basked in a faint yellow-green light as he held up a glow stick.

  “We need to talk, Ophelia.”

  Chapter 23: Pact

  We went into the kitchen, where the light wouldn't wake the others.

  “Clyde, listen.” I whispered, my voice high, and frantic. I needed to talk first before he told me whatever he was going to say. I needed to get this out of the way. “I need—“

  “Ophelia—”

  “Just listen! Clyde I—” I interrupted him, only to be interrupted again.

  “Opheli—” We kept interrupting each other, trying to keep our whispers quiet. I was good at it, but Clyde slipped up every other syllable.

  “No! You have to hear this. I'm infected. I need you to, like, when it happens…” I needed to get through this. I needed to tell him everything, so that he was prepared for when it happened. I didn't want it to be Mom. I didn't think that she could handle it, or god forbid that she hesitated and someone got hurt.

  “Ophelia, stop talking.”

  “Look, you know what I mean, so don't make me say it. And afterwards… afterwards you have to take care of my family. You have to promise me that you'll get them to Washington.”

  I could see his face in the light of the glow stick. It wasn't one that you would get at a party or at the fourth of July. It was one of those bigger ones, like ones that were actually meant to be used as a source of light.

  “You're not—“ He closed his eyes as I interrupted him again, and took a deep breath in.

  “Promise me! Promise me, Clyde!”

  I had accidentally raised my voice. We both froze for a moment. Nothing stirred, not even a mouse.

  He then reached forward and put his hands on my shoulders. I tried to step away, panicked, but he was strong. His grip on my shoulders held me at arms length away from him. I flinched, his palms unknowingly pressing into where I’d been scratched, but I didn’t think he noticed. If he did, I couldn't tell.

  I whispered for him to let me go, called him crazy, and asked what he was doing multiple times. I couldn't handle it if I got someone else infected. I wouldn't be able to live with myself.

  He took many deep breaths, and took his time letting them out. The glow stick was at my shoulder, so I couldn't see his face.

  “The first day, the day this all started, I… I won't go into the details. They ain’t pretty.

  “But that day… I was tackled. It was my… it was a big guy. It was before I knew what was going on and it spit and drooled all over my face. I had the crap in my hair for days. I spent a lot of time in cars, following the highway to get to Ads. I… I saw a lot of things. And, look, all I'm saying is that getting their spit on you doesn’t infect you. So you're not gonna turn. You'll be alright.” He took shaky breaths. In, and out. In, then out.

  It was the most I'd ever heard him say at once, and it was wonderful. What he said, not that it was him saying it.

  You're not going to turn. You'll be all right.

  But then I remembered his hands on my shoulders, pressing into the spot where hours before, a Crazy had dug its long, sharp nails into me.

  “What?” He asked as my face dropped, and he removed his hands.

  “What?” He asked again.

  As gently as I could, so that I didn’t touch him, I pulled the glow stick out of his hands. He had only touched my clothes, and not me, so there was still a chance. Still a chance for him, at least.

  I unbuttoned the top three buttons of my flannel. The look on his face would’ve definitely been comical, if it weren't for the situation. I pulled the fabric to the side with one hand, and illuminated the scratches with the glow stick in the other.

  His face was a combination of pity, worry, and hurt. Even though I had expected it, I was nowhere near ready for it.

  “Now you know. So, please promise me that you'll take care of them. Please. Just get them to Washington, Clyde. Promise me.”

  He needed to promise me. If he didn't, I was gonna lose it.

  For a while, he didn't say anything. We just stood there, in the dark silence. The only signs of the Apocalypse in the kitchen were ourselves. We shouldn't have ever met, yet here we were. Worn out, wounded, and fatigued. In the silence between us, there were no Crazies in the distance. There was just breathing.

  Just… just promise me. C’mon, Clyde.

  Instead of promising, Clyde took off his shirt, and started talking.

  “When we were back in Chicago, on that fire escape. I heard you guys scream, and saw my sister fall through… I only looked away for a second. It was just a second…” He took my hand, the one with the light, and moved it so that it was closer to him, and shining on his back.

  There were four long, semi-deep scratches along his right shoulder blade. Now, this was a scratch. The nails looked like they cut through his skin like butter. Even though it was deeper than mine, it wasn't enough to have Clyde gushing blood.

  “So, if you're infected, then I am too.” My face reflected his barely a minute before. I stared, and stared, and stared. I couldn't believe it.

  “You… you were scratched, and that was almost twenty-four hours ago… How do you feel?”

  If… if he’d been scratched… and hadn’t turned…

  “Scared outta my mind, but that's it. Listen, I don't think that I'm infected with it, and if I'm not, then neither are you.”

  I was amazed. Ten minutes ago, I was certain that I was going to die. That I would die very, very soon. But now… now Clyde had told me his secret, and had given me hope.

  “But, just in case,” he whispered, “I will promise you that if anything were to happen to you, I’ll get your family to where they're going. But only if you promise me something.”

  I nodded.

  “If anything happens to me, take Addeline with you. Wherever you end up, make sure she’s with you. Don't leave my sister behind.”

  I noticed that when laying out the terms of our agreement, he didn't say anything like “try” or “do the best you can”. It was will. I will take care of his sister if Clyde's not there, and Clyde will take my family to Washington.

  “Deal.”

  Or else, we'll die trying.

  I couldn't see a thing, but my ear, the one that wasn't covered, picked up… something.

  Clyde heard it too. He quickly doused the light in the pocket of his jeans.

  The two of us heard a dull thunk and a whispered obscenity.

  We both froze. Neither of us moved, or said anything. Clyde didn't move to put his shirt on.

  Then there was light. A light, similar to when I cupped my hand over my flashlight. I was completely terrified.

  It didn't matter that I was too scared to move, because Clyde did it for me. Quickly, he took my arm and pulled me further into the kitchen. I think I heard him shush me quietly, even though I was making as much sound as statue. I was so quiet, that my footsteps didn't make any noise, which I was grateful for.

  The light was getting closer, sweeping the room our families slept in. Clyde stopped moving, but still pulled me along. We ended up wedged between something and something, with me standing in front of Clyde, and Clyde pressed against the wall.

  Suddenly, light illuminated the kitchen. Whoever held the flashlight had taken their hand off of it, so that the beam hit the wall that was opposite of the doorway. I saw that we had squeezed into a space between the refrigerator and a counter. I also noticed that I was sticking out just a tad, maybe half an inch, but enough to be seen.

  I jumped back, and pressed myself against Clyde. He flinched, and something moved under my feet. I realized that it was his foot, but I made no effort to move off of him. I felt bad about his back, and how it was probably pressing against the wall, but, on the other hand, I couldn’t risk any sort of movement.

  Whoever had the light took a couple steps in, so that they were around
the sink, where Clyde and I had made our pact. We were diagonal to that spot, so when the flashlight swept the room from left to right to left again, we were out of view.

  If I hadn't have jumped back, we would've been spotted for sure.

  Even though Clyde's hand was cold on my arm, I was close enough to feel his warm breath on my ear. I wondered if it was loud enough to give us away.

  Not to mention the smell. It was like something had died in his mouth, and given what I’d been through, I was pretty sure I knew what I was talking about.

  The holder of the flashlight decided that whatever he was looking for wasn't here. He exhaled, mumbled something under his breath, cupped his hand over the light, and walked away.

  We waited a while before moving. We listened to the footsteps fading, and when I thought the shuffling was out of the break room, I took a small step forward, so that I was off of Clyde’s foot.

  When Clyde decided that he couldn't hear them anymore, or just when he thought it was safe, he whispered, “Okay.”

  I moved out first and waited a moment to make sure no one was waiting in the darkness to grab me. After that, I moved out farther so that Clyde could get out. He got the glow stick out of his pocket, and handed it to me, then put his shirt back on.

  Without saying anything, I tiptoed forward, towards the break room.

  “What are you doing?” he hissed, still following me.

  “Don't you want to know why someone was in here?” I turned back to him. “If they'll come back? I mean, I can't be the only one who doesn't fully trust these guys, right?”

  In the light of the glow stick, he looked irritated.

  “Yes… yes… and no. So what's your plan?” He sounded reluctant, but followed me out of the kitchen anyways.

  There were several reasons that I was going with Clyde instead of waking up my mother for this problem. For one, the driver of our car should probably get the most amount of sleep, because I suspected that she'd want to get back on the road to Washington as soon as possible. The second reason was that if there was someone lurking outside the room, and it probably was a male because I haven't seen anything to suggest otherwise, then it would probably take another male to resolve the situation.