The Seventh Day Box Set

by Tara Brown

  When I feel her hand brush against mine I allow my body to flop to the floor, the thing it’s been wanting since the weird feeling took over. I slide my hand over hers, hardly able to see. Her skin is warm compared to mine. Either she’s warmed from decomposition or I’m freezing. I don't feel cold but I don't really feel anything.

  My hands grip to her as my mind tells me she’s alive and she’s holding my hand too. She’s touching me, loving me. She’s there, here, with me.

  “I’m sorry, Mom.” The words leave my lips as a soft whisper but there’s something gravelly to my voice. It doesn't sound like mine.

  It’s then that the change starts. I feel every hair on my body instantly and then again nothing. The nerves turn on, sending screaming pain through my body and then off again. It’s akin to being electrocuted. I almost wonder if my father is doing to me what he did to that other man, but then the pain increases. My jaw clamps shut, as does my grip on my mother’s hand.

  Images flash through my head, taking over everything and making me relive each moment.

  The time I was mean to Joey for being slow. I was thirteen and angry I had to walk her to kindergarten. She was so slow, I wanted to hang out with my friends, not be responsible for her. In the image she’s so tiny. I hate myself for being mean to her.

  The time I spit in my mom’s coffee. I watched her drink it. I didn't say anything. My grip on her hand lessens with shame.

  The time I lied and told my dad I needed to be picked up because someone was following me, but really it was just that I had partied all night and was tired and lazy. The stressed look on his face killed me when I realized what I had done. But I never told the truth.

  The time I kissed Sasha’s boyfriend, Mark. We had smoked a joint, something I never did again because I hated not being in control.

  The time I stole a lip gloss just to see if I could.

  The time I told Miles a teacher had asked him to come to the workout room at the gym at 4 p.m. because I knew Sabrina Holt was there with Lars McLennan and they had a thing behind his back. I didn't do it because I wanted Miles to know, I did it because I wanted Miles.

  Each moment stings and burns inside of me. Hot tears seep through my squeezed eyelids. Nothing in my body hurts as much as my heart from seeing each sin. That's how they’re registering in my head. They’re a sin. I am a sinner.

  The white light burns its way through me, and somewhere along the journey it becomes the most pain I have ever felt, and I get lost. I know I’m in my body. I know I’m me. But I get lost.

  The pain fades, I think because a decision has been made about something. Maybe my sin.

  My eyes flutter, bringing into view the grayish hand of my mother in my fleshy palm. Her skin is dried and coated in something, crystals. They shine in the weird light I see.

  Noise catches my attention. My head jerks to the left and then the right. I feel like someone is driving me, someone is moving me to the place they want. My hands press down, lifting my body into the air until my legs can find their way to a position where I can stand. It tugs at joints and ligaments and hurts but I can’t stop it.

  When I’m standing the pain goes away but something else takes over. Thirst. Hunger. Desire. My teeth feel like they’re sweating or secreting, they’re so desperate to feel something between them. I walk to the noise, unsure of my footsteps. Kyle lumbers down the stairs. Each of his steps reverberates inside of me. He smells, I know his smell. He stops on the stairs, giving me an odd look. “Lou?”

  I clench, wanting so badly to bite him. His smell becomes a taste in my watering mouth. He takes a step away from me, taking his deliciousness with him. “Lou.”

  My foot moves clumsily, taking me up one stair.

  “She’s gone!” he shouts up the stairs.

  The feeling inside of me drives me forward. I lunge as a growl rips from my throat.

  My father is on the stairs suddenly. His eyes meet mine. “Lou, I need you to try to fight it, baby. Don't bite. Please, try to fight it. I need you to come with me to the bedroom. I think I have it.” He offers a hand. My brain sees a place to bite down. I want it so badly but the smell of him rings throughout my body. He’s safety and home and love. Those things are stronger than the rest of it. I turn away from him, walking back down the stairs. I have to drag myself into the other room, forcing my brain to work with me. It fights the entire way, feeling like the power inside of me is surging or like I am rebooting. I drop to the floor again, clinging to the woman who I now see I never loved enough. I was always so mad at her for not loving me, but now I see. She fought this urge. She forced herself up those stairs. She suffered through this unbelievable pain and misery because she didn't want to bite us. She lay there, pretending to sleep. There is no way I could sleep right now. It was an act to keep us alive.

  I am clinging to the tiny spark of me that's left inside, like she must have.

  She loved me. I never loved her the right way. And now I am too late to tell her.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe softly, wishing it would just kill me.

  The smell I want, the taste I can imagine, and the warmth I’m craving surrounds the back of my body. Kyle rubs my arms. “I think she’s starting to fade.”

  “She’s fighting it. Some people can. They have to be strong to do it. She’s like her mom. Strongest woman I ever met.” My dad’s voice filters in through the noise in my head. Tears fill my eyes but I keep them shut. “She needs to hold this. We are going to get one shot at this. If it’s not enough of a jolt, they won’t die inside of her. The clock is ticking.”

  Kyle leans across me, reaching his body over mine. While my teeth want to bite down, my brain forces images, memories. The picture of the dog paw prints he sent me when his beloved dog died. He cried. He wasn't ashamed to tell me that he had cried when the dog died. His father called him a pussy for it.

  The time we stayed up all night, playing and chatting and fell asleep on the phone.

  He told me the secret about his dad having the affair on his mom. He had said that it was something people like his dad did. It was expected. You weren’t normal if you didn't have at least one mistress. He had said he never wanted to be that way. He saw what it did to his mom; she drank and pasted a fake smile on her face all the time.

  He hated his family and we commiserated on that fact. I hated my mom.

  He sent me pictures from cool places, mostly because we agreed not to send each other pictures. We agreed not to make it real.

  I see now how real it was for us both. How real it is.

  His body leaning across mine is real. It’s warm and it smells like something I find attractive, safe even.

  His hand touches mine, making me flinch. He lowers my jaw, placing something in my mouth. I bite down, moaning almost at the sensation of biting. It’s joyous. His hands touch in other places, my chest and back maybe. I don't know. The biting distracts me.

  “The stickers don't work. They’re not sticky. They won’t stay in her hands. She could let go and it won’t work.”

  My dad comes over. His breath lands on my cheek. “Lou, you need to hold this. You need to, okay?”

  I don't move. I can’t. If I do I’ll bite one of them. I want to tell them I can’t do what they need.

  “It doesn't matter if she holds it, the charge is only going so high. There’s also the issue of her heart stopping. We need to realize if we use this there won’t be enough juice to bring her back.”

  It doesn't matter to me. I want to tell them that.

  “I’ll hold it. Then current will flow through me, creating more energy and then it’ll jolt her. If both our hearts stop, you bring her back, not me,” Kyle mutters, kisses my cheek once, whispering, “I couldn't imagine a world without you, Lou. I can’t live in that world.”

  Tears are drowning me, from the inside. I can’t cry properly so they choke me up. A hand grabs mine, Kyle’s. “NOW!” My dad shouts and everything goes black with pain.

  The sounds
fade away, taking the pain with them.

  My mother’s voice fills the dark space, “Lou, Joey needs you, baby.” I can’t see but I can feel her lips on my cheek. “Go find her, and kiss her for me. Make sure she knows, she saved me. I love you both so much. You have to see it.”

  Instantly, her sweet voice is gone and the silence is filled with screams.

  “GOD DAMMIT, LOU! DON’T DO THIS TO ME!”

  His lips press on mine, choking me with air and pushing hard on my chest.

  Pain fills me, bursting from me in a series of coughs and chokes. His arms surround me, gripping hard. Kisses land on my cheeks and lips and forehead. I smile. “Dad!” My voice is a croak.

  I manage to get one eye open, smiling wider when I see it’s Kyle and I have control of my lips again. I don't want to bite him, not exactly. Somewhere inside of me the urge to bite is there but it’s diminished incredibly. I scan the area I can see for his face, the one I have worked so hard to find. My dad isn’t there, but I can feel a hand on me. He’s got to be here somewhere. I have traveled so long and so far and been so scared. All of it has been building inside of me for the moment I am about to have: a proper reunion.

  I try to clear my throat to talk but there’s a lump in there. When I look back at Kyle, tears run down his cheeks, and I have a feeling they are not tears of excitement to see me alive and breathing. “Dad?” I croak again.

  Kyle’s eyes dart behind me.

  Fearing the worst, I turn my neck, wincing at the pain in my body. My father’s hand is still gripping to my arm. I sigh when I see it, until I notice his fingertips are dark purple, as is the place where he’s gripped to me. We are both burned.

  He’s on his back with his head next to my mother’s. His other hand is cupping her face. Neither of my parents moves, their chests don't rise.

  I feel the world collapse around me but refuse to see what is right there. I can’t breathe. Sounds leave my lips in gasps. My hands can’t move as fast as I want them to. Everything feels pulled and sore and drained. I manage to get on my stomach, dragging myself to his lifeless body. “DAD!” the hoarse cry breaks part way. “DAD!”

  I shake him but he doesn’t move.

  Kyle, finally popping out of the state he’s in, scrambles to the other side of Dad, lifting his chin and breathing into his lips. His hands come down onto his chest, pounding on him. I want to cry and tell him to stop, but I know he’s trying to save him too. Dad and I shake and shudder from the impact of Kyle’s assault but only I breathe and move on my own.

  He blows again and again and at some point we both give up. I collapse on my father while Kyle sits staring at us both.

  I close my eyes, almost begging my dead parents to take me with them.

  “I can’t do this alone, not anymore.” The words are broken with my ragged voice.

  Kyle covers me and dad with his body, holding tight to me. “You aren’t alone. You aren’t alone.”

  But some part of me doesn't believe him. I think it's the part that feels the life and soul of my father slowly sighing from his dead body. That part of me that can’t let go of them.

  Chapter 15

  Day Eight

  The smoke from the house makes me sick. I want so badly to run back in and drag them out but it needs to burn, I see that. We need to burn them all. There isn’t a house without a body in it. After we raid them, we light them up.

  By afternoon I step over the dead like I would any other piece of furniture. The cold girl is back inside of me. We are outnumbered so badly that I don't know if I see them as dead people anymore. They don't look so human if you get close enough.

  Kyle doesn't meet my eyes—he hasn't all day. I have to assume it’s the bite. I don't know if I could get past that. All that infection inside of me that is still sort of there, only dead now, makes me less than human too. I’m sure if you look close enough, there are flaws left over from being a biter. The burn mark from my father’s hand has already faded but I swear I can still feel it. I can feel him holding me.

  We load up the truck we took from a neighbor’s driveway in silence. When I’ve loaded the last thing that’ll fit in the backseat, I give him a look. “That's it.”

  He nods, climbing in and starting it up. When I get in, I reach for his arm. “I’m sorry.”

  “What for?” He scowls.

  “Getting bit. When you said we should have looked around better, you were right. I just felt safe there, in my house.” Our eyes lower to the gash on my hand that's bandaged now and smothered in medicinal cream.

  He lifts his hand to my chin, tilting my face so our eyes meet. “It’s me that's sorry. I tried to make your dad let me be the one to do it. I tried to tell him my heart is younger and would have been better to take the shock. He wouldn't have it.” His brow furrows. “I worked so hard on bringing you back, like he told me to, that I ran out of time for him. It took me five minutes to bring you back. I couldn't do both. There just wasn't time.” His green eyes are bright with the emotion of it all. “I’m so sorry, Lou. I know you were trying so hard to get to him.”

  I shake my head. “My dad’s death is my fault. I assumed my room was clear. I assumed I was safe. We don't live in a world that's fit for assumptions. That's not the way my father taught me to survive.” I sigh, hating that I have to explain it all to Joey still. “I should have checked the friggin’ closet.”

  He smiles, speaking with a chuckle, “I never checked the closet either. I walked in, got some pants and a shirt on and never even looked. The plush carpet and clean room had me captivated.” His eyes dart toward the house, still burning up. “The worst part is that your dad was in the backyard. He was getting a weapon to come and kill the guy in the closet. You stole all the guns so he had to get a tool to do it.”

  I sob a little. “Had we just gone through the backyard or made some noise, like you said we should have, he would have told us what was going on.”

  He smiles distantly. “He told me he was never going to live fully without your mother. He loved her.” Tears flood my eyes for the hundredth time in the few hours since my dad’s death. His eyes come back to me. “He loved you too. And Joey. He told me he would rather be the one to die for you. That's love, Lou. Just pure love. Just like your mom being in the house with you—she never bit any of you. She managed to fight it. That's strong love.” He leans over, wiping the tears from my cheek. “When I told him I would be the one to take the shock, he told me to be the one to keep you alive and take care of you and Joey. He said he knew I loved you.”

  I sob as he pulls me into his arms. “I’m sorry.” I shake my head, wanting it to be my fault—needing him to blame me.

  He holds me and whispers to me, “Your dad said the material inside of you was actually alive. It’s a bunch of nanorobots. They enter the brain and control everything. He said the first prototype was a soldier who was enhanced, a soldier who was perfect. The second one was a cleaner, a nanorobot who could enter a terrorist cell and reprogram them all. The nanos those crazy scientist used were a mix of those two prototypes. He said that the bite was the easiest way to infect everyone with the nanobots and it was the best way to spread the infection without killing people. The robots were supposed to enter your brain and test you, check for sins. If you were guilty of doing evil, you died the moment the nanorobots were transferred to another person through a bite. If you were a good person, you were supposed to wake totally fine. But something went wrong. The only way to save people was to short them out with electricity. It’s the craziest thing I have ever heard in my life.” He kisses my head the way my dad always did and starts the truck. “I can’t look at these dead people anymore, Lou. Let’s go home.” He puts it into gear and backs out of the driveway.

  I don't have anything to add to it. I don't even understand it all completely. It takes a couple seconds to fully kick in. When I do understand it I get an intense visual of how I think it would have worked.

  On the drive home we are the only ones on the
road. The truck handles the bumps on the streets like they’re nothing. At this point they are nothing. Husks. Not that the rest of us are doing much better. We are all a bit hollow, like the light fell out of us when the world went dark.

  The difference between them and us is that we stand a chance at redeeming ourselves.

  When we get back up to the ski hill, both our jaws drop at the same time. Trucks, cars, vans, and SUVs line the streets. The cabins all have movement, people coming in and out, unloading vehicles and talking on the roads. When Kyle pulls up to my cabin, Mr. Milson is in the yard talking to Miles and another man I don't know. My insides are as clenched as they can be when I don't see the girls.

  I jump out before the truck is even fully stopped, earning a shout from Kyle as I blow past the vehicles in our driveway and burst through the door. “JO!”

  She, Lissie, and Julia raise their eyes from the pile of dolls on the floor. Each little face lifts in joy as they jump up and run to me. Joey instantly sobs, making the other girls cry. I lower my face, taking a gulp of the air around Joey’s head.

  “We thought you d-d-died.”

  “No, way.” I drop to my knees, hugging them all. I don't tell them I did die. I don't tell them anything. I just hold them, completely relieved.

  The hug becomes a huddle and then a dog pile as the rest of our group join in.

  Crying, laughing, and labored breathing all become part of the mess we are. Joey looks up, struggling to see me in the herd. “Where’s dad?”

  I can’t fight the feeling of loss or sadness but I manage to not cry again. “With Mom.”

  “No!” Her expression pinches up as tears roll down her cheeks. She cries for a long time, shaking, and I think in some way denying it all. I imagine that's what I would do if I were her. I have kept them from seeing it all. They have been hidden away up here so they don't understand, not completely. After a long time, when I think she’s fallen asleep from crying in my arms, she looks up at me and nods. “At least they aren’t alone.”