Chapter Text
|6:30am|
There is something freeing about running, the breeze on your face and the racing of your heart. In a world of cars and bikes, there is nothing better than this. Going back to your roots, sprinting through roads with only the sounds of music and the pounding of your soles against concrete to keep you company.
I raise my head up to the sky, watching clouds floating high above, and take a deep breath in. The smooth rush of a runner's high fills my veins as I sprint down a road, letting my feet take me where they desire.
I race past the buildings, reaching out my hand and graze the sides of buildings with my fingertips as I pass. At times like this I always let my soul guide me in an almost spiritual endeavor. Towards roads unseen and experiences new and refreshing.
But as I turned down a different street, one I have never been down before. I found that there were far fewer people than normal. Nobody is walking their dogs or playing hopscotch on the sidewalk. It's dead, like a ghost town in the middle of a metropolis. I wipe my hand over my face, ridding it of the sweat that was building up on my brow as I slow down. I think about turning back, but I keep moving forward, my curiosity carrying me forward without a hint of self preservation as I jog. My intuition has never failed me before and the desire, unbent and unyielding, to move forward trumps the logical side of my mind telling me to leave.
I turn my head, keeping it on a swivel as I observe my surroundings, slowly coming to a stop at a dark dead-end alleyway. I grip the brick with my fingers and peer inside. There is a man, nearly six-feet and stocky with a flamboyant blue and yellow Hawaiian shirt and pair of khakis. He faces away from me, staring at the tall brick wall at the end of the alleyway. His arms sway limply at his sides as he groans and growls. Sounds that send the hairs on the back of my neck on edge. However, despite the fear that courses through my veins, the instinctual urge that tells me to run. I can't. I stand and I stare, like a deer caught in a truck's headlights.
As if sensing my presence, the man turns his head slowly towards me, and in a moment, whether I knew it at the time or not, my entire life changed. His face immediately burned itself into my memory. Thick red liquid coated the area around his mouth, his eyes a disturbing and unnatural gray. But that wasn't what sent the thick shiver of fear down the back of my spine. The man had a massive gash on his cheek. Jagged flaps of muscle hung loosely from his jaw, exposing his molars to the air and despite this injury he doesn't look bothered. Instead, when we make eye contact he growls again, this time a more guttural and disturbing sound than before.
I immediately take a step back as he makes a step forward and I feel my heart thump against my ribcage. Fear. Raw and unbridled terror fills my veins as the feeling of adrenaline sets my nervous system on fire. He takes another step forward, head tilting limply to the side, cold eyes staring hungrily into mine, jaw snapping open and closed with a snarl. And before I can think I whip around so fast that I almost give myself whiplash and sprint back the way I came.
|6:40am|
I don't stop, I can't, my legs refuse to part with motion as I go all the way back to the overpass. I don't know how long I was running for, just that it was a record time for me as I slowed to a stop to catch my breath. I kneel slightly, resting my hands on top of my powder blue legging-covered knees and take a deep breath in. Hold it. Then let it out in a rhythmic motion before repeating again. I squeeze my eyes shut, the image of the man stumbling towards me burning in the back of my eyelids before I snap them back open.
Jesus, what the fuck was that? Drugs? Probably. Insanity? Most definitely.
"Are you okay dear?" A voice called out, breaking me from my terror-infused state. I look up to make eye contact with an older woman in her fifties. She has short white hair cropped close to her scalp and is wearing some incredibly overpriced running gear. She's probably some kind of entertainment executive, important enough to be rich but not important enough to be a celebrity. Sitting right at the sweet spot between the two. I nod my head as I take a sip of my water, thankful for the running bag I bought right before the semester started.
"Yes, thank you." I breathed out, the air still struggling to stay in my lungs. "Just, a bit out of breath," I lied as I tried to force the oxygen through my nostrils. I can't tell if I am having a panic attack, just out of breath, or both as my fear escapes my eyes in the form of tears. But I wipe them away as quickly as I can so the woman who just placed a hand on my shoulder can't see.
"We're running to Santa Monica Pier if you want to come with us." She offered, her voice wise and soft, a tone that somehow calmed my rising nerves. I look up from my hunched over position and make eye contact with her. I flick my gaze around to finally notice that the older woman was with a running group of five. All equally wealthy and all looking at me with gazes laced with concern. I quickly found myself standing up, straightening my back with a fake smile etched onto my features as I brush off invisible dust from my leggings. Now isn't the time to have a mental breakdown, I can do that when I get home. He didn't have a cheek. No, not now. So much blood. Fuck.
"I would love to." I smiled diplomatically. 'Fake it until you make it', the words of my mother echoed through my mind as I pushed the emotions deep into my chest. A memory of my mother repeating the words as she covered the fresh bruises on her skin with concealer flashed through my mind for a moment before I regained clarity. "My name is Natasha." I introduced myself kindly, reaching a hand out to clasp hers.
"Evelyn." She replied taking my hand into her own. delicate and fragile like glass. She turned to her group who all watched the situation curiously. They no longer held the same expression of worry as earlier. The group most likely coming to the conclusion that I was probably fine. "Let's go." She said, clearly the leader of whatever Facebook running group that stumbled across me. As we all took off into a slow jog, annoyingly slower than my usual pace but under the current circumstances I didn't mind it like I usually would.
Anything to get the sight of that drug-addict from my mind.
|7:30am|
"Have you seen this yet?" Georgio said, his thick Italian accent interrupting my peace as I looked towards him. We had finally made it to the pier, most of the group a few feet away discussing their next steps. Georgio on the other hand seemed to be far more interested in me, as he rested beside me. Leaning against the wooden railing, his phone in his hand as he inched towards me. Our shoulders brushing each other lightly.
He's the only member of the group around my age and clearly Sicilian; with tanned skin, short shorts, and dark brown hair that almost looks black as it curls around the tips of his ears... He has a nice ass too, which made my run earlier all that much better.
"Seen what?" I ask as I lean in to glimpse at the screen of his phone. It was bright outside so it was difficult to make out the video in front of me, and I couldn't hear the audio but it looked to be the sight of an accident. There was a man was lying down on a gurney, an EMT leaning over him until the man suddenly reached up and latched his teeth onto the EMT's neck. "What the fuck?" I whisper.
"Just wait, it gets worse." He said holding his finger onto the screen, fast-forwarding the video a bit until the psychopath was in front of a firing squad of SWAT. Their guns fired, bullets piercing the man in quick succession but he kept walking forward, his legs moving unnaturally as he stumbled, seemingly unaffected by the gunfire. "Right here." He said as one of the officers fired into the man's head, his body crumpling to the ground like a marionette doll.
"What the hell is that? some kind of new drug?" I asked, the man from earlier flashing through my mind. He was acting just like this... I take in a sharp intake of breath, this feeling again, gnawing at my bones and deep into my chest. Is this how Anastasia feels every day? I shake my head sharply and look up at Georgio as he scrolls through more YouTube videos, each one from different parts of the country with some being from what looked like Italy. Each one tagged with some variation of "Modern Monsters?" Or "End of the world?"
"I don't know, but it's everywhere." He said putting the phone in his pocket. "I haven't seen one, have you?" He asked eying me curiously as the man from the alleyway made yet another cameo in my mind. Hunched over, drooling blood and growling as he stalked towards me like an animal towards prey.
"I... No... I mean maybe? I don't think so," I stuttered out honestly as I watched the crowd people wander around the pier, some playing rigged carnival games, others eating ice cream way too early in the morning with their families. All of whom enjoying their time outside without a care or acknowledgment of the chaos blowing up their social media feed.
I felt my chest clench, the unmistakable feeling of dread dripping into my stomach uncomfortably. I take another slow breath as I bite the feeling back, hoping instead that I drank too much coffee this morning and that my overwhelming feeling of anxiety is just a product of a minor caffeine overdose.
"I'm going to go home." Georgio said as he stood up and stretched, his lithe frame and honeyed skin glistening under the sun. "You should too signorina." He said looking at me from the corner of his eye before walking back to the main group without another word. I watched him leave, knowing that I would never see him again but not making a move to stop him. Instead watching him walk up the pier and disappear into LA. Hoping silently to myself that if the world does go to shit that he will be alright.
"We're going to a restaurant nearby for brunch if you want to join us." The older lady from earlier offered as she walked up next to me. I had already forgotten her name but she held the same kind smile as she did an hour ago, the one that filled me with warmth and calmed my anxiety. I thought about the offer for a moment and under normal circumstances I would've in a heartbeat. However, after what I just saw, I just can't bring myself to do anything but go home.
"Thank you for the offer but I can't," I responded politely, the words flowing off my lips like smooth honey. "I have to get back to campus, it's a five-mile run," I said looking at my phone. I could catch a taxi back, but I don't have the spare money at the moment. As I look down at my phone the woman places a hand on my shoulder and gives me a warm smile.
"It was lovely having another girl around." She said and I nodded gratefully in return. It was nice meeting new people for once, it's been lonely in the city, far from the rural town in Vermont that I grew up in where everyone knew everyone.
"Thank you for having me." I returned happily as I shook her hand. "I had a good time." I continued with a warm smile. I looked behind her to see the group trying to catch the older woman's attention. "They're waiting for you," I said, Evelyn, turning around to look at the three others standing by the entrance of the pier and waving her over. She turned back to me and gave me a hug, one that I returned in kind.
"Have a safe run back." She whispered into my ear as she pulled away and I nodded, watching her go back to the running group that had adopted me.
I stood there for a while, long after they left for brunch. For some reason, I feel slightly melancholy as I stand here staring at the crowd around me. I take another deep breath in, the smell of carnival food and salty sea air filling my nostrils before I put my earbuds back in and start back down the road towards home.
|12:00pm|
I burst into my apartment a panting tired mess, resting against the doorframe to keep myself upright from the exhaustion that threatened to overtake me. It was a long run back and through my desperation to get home before noon, I sprinted as quickly as my legs would allow.
I look down at my watch, old and cracked with a thick brown leather strap holding it to my wrist. 12:00. I made it just in time. I limp into the room, my feet sore and blistered as I close the door behind me with a solid thud and jingle. Before tipping over the side of the couch and falling face-first into the velvet black cushions. Grateful for the first time since I moved here that the apartment was small, and that the couch was a mere two feet from the front door. I lay there for what felt like forever, my feet stuck straight up in the air as I closed my eyes, panting heavily.
Eventually, I started fishing for the remote to the TV with my hand. Realizing not too late after that it was nowhere to be found. Felicia, my roommate and only friend must've lost it again, not that I'm surprised, she loses everything she gets her hands on. All those long hours as a RN and studying for med school turns her brain to mush by the time she gets home.
I lazily turn myself over and kick off my running shoes, each of them falling to the floor with two light thuds. I take a minute to stare up at the ugly popcorn ceiling like it holds the answers to all my problems. Was that a body? I run through the memory of the man, the human shaped lump on the ground behind him that I only remembered just now. But I can't focus on it, instead the blood being the only thing that sticks to my vision for longer than a few seconds. Each moment burning together as my mind tries to only focus on him, his face, his missing cheek. I should've called the police but I didn't, I was too scared. I put my hands to my face and let out a groan, I'm so pathetic.
|1:00pm|
I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing in the pocket of my leggings. I let out an irritated whine as I fish it out and hold it up to my face with a squint. Sister with a few brightly colored emojis pops up on my screen and I can't hold back the sigh that escapes my lips. I love my sister dearly, she gave up her entire life, her future to raise ten-year-old me. But the woman is as paranoid as she is stubborn. Whatever happened to her during her tours in Afghanistan and Iraq had made her certain that the world was going to end, and end soon. A fact about her that made her susceptible to conspiracy theories and psychotic episodes. I slid my finger across the screen, accepting the call and held it to my ear.
"Hello?" I asked groggily into the phone. I could hear my sister zipping up a bag, and her dogs: Doc and Sarge, prancing around her apartment in Atlanta. It sounds like she's packing, for what I have no idea. "Ana?" I called out again into the phone trying to shove down the feeling of irritation that tried to crawl its way up my throat.
"Nat, listen to me and listen carefully." She said, her voice cold and calm. "You need to leave the city." She added after a few seconds, the sounds of her racking the slide of her sidearm making it to my ears. That isn't good. I sit up, swinging my feet around to rest on the ground as I lean back into the cushions.
"Why do I need to leave the city?" I asked, pulling the hair tie from my dark blonde hair and running my fingers through the strands. Ana's psychiatrist Dr. Jenner told me that I should humor her when she does this. Let her get all the thoughts out and calm herself down, but if it gets too bad then call her. This might be one of the times that constitutes a call.
"There's an outbreak," She said, keeping her sentences short and to the point. "I don't have time to explain." She added. There was an empty pause for a bit as I stood up and paced around the apartment as I normally do when on the phone with someone. "Do you have your go bag?" She asked and I paused. The infamous bag that haunts my dreams, my sister made me make one after her last tour and promised me that it would come in handy if the world ended. It was a 40L black military bag that I covered in sparkling and colorful patches. To the point where if any active duty military person saw it they would probably want to shoot me for disrespect."Of course I do," I said as I walked into my bedroom and sat down on the twin-sized bed, pulling my legs under me as I listened to my sister.
"Take it and leave the city now before people clog up the highways" She ordered, her voice sounding more like a military officer's than my sister's. "If the cell towers go down use the sat phone at eight pm EST." She added. "Do you have your gun?" She asked before I could even process her last points of conversation. This is Ana, as cold and straight to the point as ever.
"Yes, I have my gun," I said looking over to my nightstand, a small dingy little thing I found on the side of the road. Inside the top drawer was a military-grade sidearm, a Sig Saur M17 as well as a matching conceal carry holster. Some of my fondest memories with my sister were at the shooting range where we would spend time together every weekend. The smell of gunpowder and the sounds of guns firing into paper men are burned into my deepest memories and nostalgia.
"Take it with you." She said and I rolled my eyes, obviously if the world ended I'd take my gun. Does she think I'm dumb? Actually, maybe she does, I don't exactly follow her orders to take to the roads whenever she thinks the government is going to collapse. "What about your glasses?" She asked.
"Both pairs are in my go bag." I droned out emotionlessly. My slightly severe near-sightedness was a small hiccup in my survival possibly should the world actually end. My sister though decided that instead of letting me die automatically, bought me multiple pairs of sports glasses with straps, flexible frames, and near bulletproof glass. The damn things cost so much money, we had such a huge fight about it when I opened my care package and found them sitting inside the box. "Are we done now?" I asked as I stared at the folding doors of my closet. I really need to take a shower, I forgot to when I got home from my run. I heard a sigh on the other side of the phone, it was long and drawn out. It was obvious that she was seriously worried about something this time and the calmness of her voice during the conversation did set me slightly on edge. The memory of the man in the alleyway flashing across my vision yet again along with the YouTube video Georgia showed me, but I shook my head. My sister is having an episode, that's all..
"Just. Be careful okay?" She asked slowly after a few moments of silence. She knows I won't listen to her, that I'm not going to leave the city unless I see something with my own eyes and even then maybe not.
"Okay," I said back while fidgeting with my watch. I should probably text Felicia to see if she wants to get dinner tonight. Maybe we'll get pizza and have a wine night. I've been meaning to watch the new Ironman.
"Promise me, Natasha, please." She practically begged while using my full name for the first time in a long time. Immediately snapping me from my wandering mind, even for her, in all of her PTSD-induced paranoia and episodes. She never spoke to me like this, this seriously.
"I promise," I said honestly as I rested my chin against my knee. "I'll call you tonight," I added, my voice quiet as I spoke. She was scaring me, more so than I was earlier today.
"Be safe." She said, her voice oddly quiet, the shuffling on her side of the phone stopping. "I love you."
"Yeah, I love you too," I responded, pulling the phone from my ear and staring at it as she hung up.
What the fuck was that? She wasn't stingy with affection but it was the way she said it, like it might be the last. It made me anxious as hell and For some odd reason I felt a slight pang of regret in my chest, maybe I should've told her about the man in the alleyway. No, I can't think like that, everything will be just fine. I'm over reacting. I shook my head and stood up, maybe I should go on a ride later to clear my mind.
I walked into my room and over to my closet, pulling open the doors with a quiet squeak before reaching inside and grabbing my riding clothes. A pair of thick black leather riding pants and a white undershirt. My matching black motorcycle jacket hanging on the coat hanger near the door in the living room.
Once I finished gathering my things I step into the joint bathroom and lock the door with a click before turning on the fan and stripping out of my workout clothes. The tub is on the far end of the room covered by a tacky pink and orange sunset themed curtain. I pull it back and flick on the water, letting my hand wait underneath until it grows warm enough to step inside.
I run my fingers through my dark blonde hair that is soapy from my rose-scented shampoo and use conditioner to smooth out the knots. For some reason, I take my time, enjoying the hot water and shaving my legs. I let my head tilt up allowing the warm water to drip down my face and into my open mouth before spitting it out and using my hands to wipe the water from my eyes.
When I'm finished, I step out and grab my glasses off the fake granite counter. Before drying myself off with a towel and putting on my leather pants. I had to jump a few times to get them over my ass but eventually, I managed to squeeze them on. I also tucked the white shirt into the pants, pulling at the edges slightly so it didn't look like a body suit. I do a few ridiculous squats to stretch out the leather as well as a few kicks for fun. My hands pull back my hair from my face as I brush it and tie it into a slick bun at the back of my head.
Leaving the bathroom, I saunter over to the fridge, open it with a pop, and grab a premade salad from my shelf with a bottle of Dr. Pepper. I rustle through the utensils pulling out a fork before I make my way back to the small living room and put my things down on the coffee table. I try my hand at digging through the couch cushions for the remote. My hands gripping at the smooth black surface and I pull it out and stare at it with a large smile. I flick on the TV and turn on the news before starting to eat.
|4:28pm|
The sound of keys jiggling into the lock of our door woke me up and I reached for my phone to check the time. It was four in the afternoon, and I had slept for three hours. I let out a sigh and sit up watching as Felicia practically barrels into the apartment looking like fresh hell. Her box braids were falling out of the large bun on the top of her head and her blue scrubs were brown from what looked like ash.
"Felicia, are you okay?" I ask standing up, she rushes over to me and pulls me into a desperate hug without a word. After a few seconds, I pulled back and stared into her brown eyes as she started rambling way too fast. And despite how hard I tried I could not understand a single word that came out of her mouth. "Hey," I started "Hey," I called out again as she continued to ramble. "Hey!" I yelled snapping her out of it. "What the hell happened?" I asked moving her out of the way to look through the blinds near the door. My fingers parted the thin metal so I could take a peek outside. There didn't seem to be anything directly outside of our apartment but I would be stupid to ignore the bright yellowish-orange light of fire visible in the distance. Maybe I shouldn't have written my sister off as episodic this morning.
"Everyone is going crazy!" She said desperately after she caught her breath and came up beside me. I slid over to the door, letting the shades snap closed before dead bolting the door with the chain and turning the golden lock with a click. "Apparently the cops were killing civilians in the streets, I ran straight here from campus. Reggie and Michelle went to see what was going on." She finished listing two of her other friends from med school. I shook my head trying to ignore the fear that built up in my chest. I've been scared far too many times today. Instead I allow my mind to run through all my sister's training and turn around after taking a deep breath in through my nose.
"We'll be fine, let's just wait for the rioting to end," I said with a smile. I honestly don't know if what I just said was a lie or not, but it felt like one."You should pack a bag of essentials and change into a fresh pair of clothes just in case." I said my gaze flickering towards Felicia. She looked scared as she nodded her head, her eyes filled with unshed tears.
"Yeah." She said shaking nervously before turning towards her room, walking slowly from shock. I watched her go into her room and let out a sigh as soon as she closed the door behind her. I know it's ridiculous, I never believed my sister and her ramblings. But right now it feels like she was spitting out prophesy, not insanity.
"Fuck it, fine, Ana, you win," I said to myself as I stalked into my bedroom and pulled my go bag out of the back of my closet, heaving it onto the bed. I hurriedly went over to my nightstand and opened the drawer, threading the holster through my belt and inserting my pistol inside with a click after making sure the safety was on. I took a second, scrunching my eyes closed and taking a few deep breaths before grabbing my bag and slinging it over my shoulder.
I step out of my room and walk towards the kitchen where I lay my bag on the counter with a thud. I don't know why she is as nervous as she is, riots aren't really anything new to LA or to us. Something is telling me that she isn't being entirely honest with what she saw. Which makes me nervous.
"Felicia?" I call out, the apartment was dark other than the orange-red light that came from between the blinds and the light under mine and her doors. I walk over to her room and knock. The door creaks open and I peek inside to see her sitting on her bed with her head in her hands. "Are you okay?" I ask as I walk into her room without permission. She looks up her eyes bloodshot from crying. Her backpack was on the bed next to her with clothes and things spilling out of it, clearly packed in a hurry.
"I saw it." She said weakly "Professor Winston was walking funny and then." She paused her voice drifting off. I walk over to the mess and grab her bag moving it to the side as I sit down next to her.
"What happened?" I asked as I emptied her bag. Deciding that maybe I should just pack it for her. She clearly wasn't in any state to do it herself.
"He bit someone in the neck." She said shocked, almost as if she didn't trust her own eyes. "He wouldn't let go, Nat, just kept biting and chewing as the girl screamed." Her voice was shaking as I dumped out the pills and sorted through them. Most were useless but I kept the melatonin and giant bottle of Ibuprofen. "Then more came, people were attacking each other and biting each other, it was insane and people were just ignoring it because they were looting. It's chaos. I don't want to go back out there, Natasha. I don't." I paused for a second and stared at her.
"They were eating each other?" I asked disbelievingly. She looked at me without saying anything and the look in her eyes shocked me. It reminded me of Ana when she came home from her final tour, bloodied and bruised. Her eyes looked just like that, holding an expression that screamed 'I saw something I shouldn't have.' I took a breath, there was no way I could believe her but there was also no way she was lying. I saw it too. Whatever it is, we need to get out of the city until it blows over. "Okay, I believe you." I said "We need to leave, we go to the parking lot and take my bike. I have an extra helmet." I continued walking to her closet and digging through her clothes which were mostly tiny tops and an assortment of shorts. I pulled out a pair of jeans as well as the only normal t-shirt of her's that I could find and handed it over. "Change into this."
"I can't." She said, "We'll die if we go out there." She said staring at the clothes in my hand. I let out a sigh and went around her room, digging through her drawers and searching for anything she had that would be useful. Secretly grateful for my go-bag.
"If what you say is true, then our best bet is to leave during the chaos while trying not to draw attention to ourselves," I said folding up a few extra pairs of clothes and putting them in her bag
"You know a lot about this." She said as she took the clothes and stood up stripping right in front of me. I let out a sigh and continued to pack her things, folding the clothes and keeping them light enough for her to carry. Knowing that she probably couldn't hold as much weight as me for a long time.
"My sister is a prepper." I explained, "Obsessed with the end of the world and kind of forced me to be a part of it." I continued looking over to her, her clothes now on as she walked over to look at the bag I was packing. "We'll fill the rest with water bottles and non-perishables," I told her and handed her the bag. "Is it too heavy?" I asked, the girl slipping it over her shoulders and shaking her head.
"No." She said handing It back to me. "I've never been more happy to be your roommate than right now." She said as she followed me into the kitchen, watching as I placed the bag onto the table and opened the fridge. For once I was glad the water quality in LA was ass so we were forced to buy bottled water.
"Fill the rest of your bag with our water bottles and the granola bars in the pantry, I'll be right back," I said rushing into my room before she could reply. Felicia had calmed down a bit so she should be able to do that much by herself. Walking into my closet I grabbed my composet-toe motorcycle boots and slipped them on, tying them up and placing a small sheathed knife into the side for emergencies. We were going to be walking into a riot and I wanted to be prepared just in case.
I walked back out into the living room and towards the coat rack. Grabbing my leather jacket and matching gloves before putting them on. If was going to be driving my bike through this hell, the chances of getting into an accident are high, and I want to be as protected as possible. I grabbed my extra jacket, it was my older one and had a lot of wear and tear but it should fit Felicia. After I was done I walked back to the kitchen where Felicia was putting on her bag and adjusting the straps.
"That's a big bag." She said looking at the go bag I placed on the counter. I nodded and placed my jacket on the table.
"I'm going to start thanking my sister every day for getting it for me," I said looking at her work. "Did you get everything?" I asked as I unzipped my bag, pulled out the bladder to my water pack, and unscrewed the cap. She looked between me and my current project and nodded.
"Yeah, couldn't fit everything though." She said, I grabbed a bottle and poured it into the blue plastic and then again with another. "This won't end," She said after a moment "It'll only get worse." She finished. I let out a sigh as I finished my work, putting the bladder into the bag and zipping it up before testing the nozzle.
"We'll be fine," I stated as I walked over to the blinds and peeked through. The city was still covered in people and some of them reminded me of the man from earlier today. They stood there in the middle of the chaos blankly and when someone came near they would lurch for them as if they were rabid animals. I snapped the blind closed. Maybe we won't be fine.
"Are they out there?" She asked nervously probably noting the look in my eye. I nodded my head and practically stalked over and put on my bag clipping the front so it wouldn't fall off, or get pulled off.
“Grab my steak knife, the nice one that almost sliced my finger off last month," I said pulling my phone out of my pocket and staring at my sister's contact. If this is as bad as she thinks, then I should call her before it gets worse. I watch as Felicia runs to my steak knives and starts digging through them as I hit the call button. It didn't even ring for a moment before my sister's voice was on the other side.
"Is it happening in Los Angeles too?" She asked quickly, I wanted to ask her what she was talking about but I already knew the answer. The words struggling to leave my lips because to say it would make it real and I don't want it to be.
"Riots, yeah," I said putting the phone to my ear as I helped Felicia get her bag on, it was a lot heavier than before but if we ran in the chaos then maybe we'd have a chance.
"They aren't riots, they're bloodbaths, get out of the city." My sister said on the other side, her words cold and calculating. A tone that made my blood run cold.
"Bloodbaths?" I asked her quietly, hoping that this was just another episode until I heard the sound of moaning before a sudden sound of squishing and crunching. I felt my throat go into my stomach "Ana?" I asked my tone almost pleading.
"Come to Georgia, we'll go out into the wilderness and find a place to ride this out." She said, her tone more comforting than before. But it felt more like she was pretending. "Find a tube, siphon gas when needed, and bring your bike but get somewhere safe first. Where are you?"
"My apartment," I said, Ana cursing on the other side of the line. Her voice was slow and steady like she was talking to a stupid child or one of her animals. A habit that she really needs to curb.
"I thought I told you to- whatever it's fine, get out of there now, follow the crowds, and call me when you're safe, don't worry about me." She said pausing for a moment "I've got to go Sarge alerted, love you." She said hanging up the phone before I could respond. Sarge was her retired combat dog, the not-so-little Belgian Malinois was very good at his job and Anastasia had kept him well-trained. I let out a breath and looked towards Felicia. I am panicking now, I can feel my chest compress and my anxiety rising but I have to stay calm. I can freak out later. We just have to get to safety.
"We need to go. Now." I said pulling her with me "Hold that knife close and if anyone tries to get close to you slash at them with it." I said locking her hand with mine "Once we're out of harm's way we'll call your friends and see if they are okay. If they are I can go get them."
"Okay." She said, her voice and hands still shaking as I took a deep breath. "We'll be fine." She said to herself as she adjusted the grip on her knife. It really didn't matter if she believed it or not, because her not getting out of here isn't an option. She has to, as my only friend in this concrete jungle, I don't have anyone else I can trust.
"On the count of three," I said grabbing the door handle and looking out the window. "One... Two... Three!" I said after bracing myself and opening the door.
|6:10pm|
Once the door was open, I was flooded with the scent of fire and the sounds of screaming. It was absolute chaos and the desire to run back inside and lock the door grappled at my subconscious.
“Natasha?” Felicia asked holding onto my arm nervously when I didn’t move. I took a second and closed my eyes before looking out onto the balcony and hallway. A clear view of the chaos beneath us is visible from the railing. It didn’t seem like there was anyone, at least in the hallway but my metaphorical hackles were raised as I stepped forward.
“Let’s go,” I said grabbing her hand, the two of us bolting towards the stairs while keeping our heads down. I tried to ignore the sounds of screaming that were starting to overpower the hooting and hollering of rioters. Something was going on, something bad and Felicia had seen it. I have seen it. I reached out and grabbed the staircase railing and started to go down but Felicia didn’t move. Her body as solid as a rock.
“There’s someone behind us.” She said slowly, her voice hollow as I turned around. In front of us was our neighbor, an old man around eighty-five stumbling toward us. I watched for a moment, my body stuck still with fear as his head snapped up. His eyes. Oh my god. They were grey, clouded over like a corpse's and his arms, the way they flung out limply towards us. It wasn’t normal. Not at all.
“Stop,” I said shakily as I stepped in front of Felicia, her hand clutching my bag. But he didn’t stop, instead, he started growling and snarling. His jaw snapped open and closed like he was priming to take a bite out of us. “Run,” I said to Felicia, the two of us taking down the stairs at a speed neither of us knew was possible. “What the fuck was that,” I said as we turned into the parking lot.
“I saw it before at campus, he's one of them.” She said pausing “The sick.” She finished as we scanned the area for my bike. Which was nowhere to be found.
“Fuck!” I cursed, someone must’ve stolen it, hot-wired it, or something. The area was now empty except for a few stragglers who were shambling around like our neighbor upstairs. I pulled Felicia down to the side of a car and shimmied forward. I pressed my foot to the ground and heard a soft squish. I slowly looked down, the smell of blood filling my nose.
“Oh my God,” Felicia said, her voice muffled through her hand that covered her mouth. I felt myself gag, my body wanting to expel all my lunch but I tried to hold it in. It was a body. Head missing, torso clawed open. I could see its/their intestines falling out of the body, and my foot was inside of its chest cavity. “My car, my car is right over there.” She said snapping me back to reality. I followed her gaze and sure enough, her car was right there. On the other side of the parking lot. Her 2004 Toyota Prius, the thing barely runs but it gets hella gas mileage. In that thing, with a few stops to siphon, we could probably make it to Georgia in a few days. Finding something to focus on other than the corpse I narrowed in on the car. That was what was important. I can have a mental breakdown later.
I waited until I couldn’t see anyone around and we bolted across the carpark. My legs practically screamed at the speed I was forcing them to move. But we got there. Splitting up so she could take the driver's seat, I waited for her to open the car door. Taking a second to look around, the absolute mess that surrounded us looked like a war zone. The sounds of rioters got further away and the noises and groans of the sick got closer and louder. I tried not to think about it too much as Felicia opened the door and I slid inside and threw my bag into the backseat.
She put the key into the ignition and it started up. A miracle, because this shitty car never started the first time before. She backed up, her main focus probably to get to the main road. I was in far too much shock to make for a good conversation. My eyes stuck on my boot, the black leather shining with what I know is blood and chunks of pinkish-red guts. I felt my stomach lurch again and I held my hand over my mouth, my tongue salivating uncomfortably.
“We can take the I10, swap to the I15 then go onto the I40 towards Atlanta.” She said, the two of us trying to ignore the people throwing things at the car as we drove. Which was a good sign. It meant we were out of Sickville, for now.“My parents live in El Sereno, it’s on the way. We can stop there, get them, then leave.” I nodded my head, looking out the window at the chaos around us, and moved my finger to make sure the lock was still in place.
“Good idea, but the highways will be over-congested, we’ll never get out that way,” I said weakly as I turned my head to look at her. At least I’m not alone, thank God I’m not alone. “We can go get your parents, and crash at their place while we figure out our next move.” I offered. My eyes moved from her face towards the sidewalk where I noticed some non-rioters weaving through the street. It seemed to be two men, three women, and a boy. One of them was injured and being carried. “Felicia stop,” I said. I know my sister always told me that in these situations it should be me first and useful people second. But I cannot in good conscience just abandon these innocent people.
“What wh- Oh my God.” She said for the tenth time this evening as she pulled over and rolled down the window a smidge. They looked at us with a mixture of hope and fear, which is reasonable, I’m scared too. “Get in.” She said gesturing to me to unlock the back door. I crawled past the center console and pulled up the lock with a click. “I’m a medical student and RN from UCLA, I can help.” She continued convincingly. The man carrying the woman stepped forward obviously far more trusting than the Latino man behind him who looked at us, more so glared at us from next to a young woman. Who I assumed was probably his daughter.
“We are going to El Sereno.” The man with dark hair said as he reached for the car door. His hand wrapped around the handle before it got slapped away by the older man.
“No.” He said matter of factly. Understandable, but kind of dumb in this situation, being stubborn will only put us all in harm's way. I watched as the girl who I assumed was his daughter grabbed his arm tightly.
“Papa please, mama needs medical attention.” She begged, the two sharing a whole conversation with their eyes as I watched the chaos around us getting worse. People were moving on and the faint sounds of growling were getting closer. We are running out of time.
“We need to leave now Felicia.” I said my eyes going back to them “We are also going to El Sereno, she has family there.” I continued making eye contact with the older man. He reminded me of my sister. His eyes were dark and cold, he has seen things, and people like that need to be treated with the same logistical reasoning they use. “You aren’t going to find a doctor right now, all the hospitals will be flooded with people,” I said coldly as I stared at him. The two of us sizing each other up for a moment but seemed to be enough because he opened the door himself.
“Fine, but I go with you.” He said as the man with black hair placed the woman inside and the other sat down next to her. “Ofelia go with them.” He said the others looking at each other before shutting the door with a solid thud. The other man came over to the window and looked through.
“Our truck is right over there, follow us and we will go to El Sereno together.” He said pointing in a vague direction and sure enough between the chaos a lone white truck sat in the middle of the street. How it wasn’t destroyed like all the others is beyond me but I try not to think too much about it.
“How did you meet them?” I asked as we followed after the running group, the four people sticking together like glue, hands interlaced.
“They broke into my shop.” He said bluntly. Oh. I keep my eyes forward as they get into the truck. The son and Ofelia hop into the back and we are off. Speeding through crowds, and secretly hoping we don't have to run over anyone.
“You were lucky,” I responded plainly, the car falling into silence afterward. The group of us drove through the streets which were now mostly abandoned save for a few stragglers. “Where are you from,” I asked him after a few minutes of driving.
“El Salvador.” He said with the same monotone voice. I nodded though he couldn’t see me and leaned back against the carseat.
“My sister has that same look in her eyes,” I said watching out the window. “She was in the Marines, did three tours, didn’t come back the same after the third,” I explained. I don’t know why I just dropped that, maybe I miss my sister. Maybe I’m worried about her, but to be honest, if there was anyone who would survive a chaotic situation like that it’d be my sister. I’m the one who should be worried about. I look down at my shaking hands and clutch them together.
“Then you understand why I don’t trust you.” He said and I nodded.
“Yeah. I do.” I responded the car falling back into silence. But I knew that this time we weren’t going to be talking for a while. I lean my head against the window and watch as the people run by in fear. Whatever that sickness is, it’s spreading, and it’s terrifying.
|6:35pm|
We pulled into the driveway of what I assumed was the man’s house and immediately something didn’t feel right. It was quiet in the neighborhood, too quiet and that set my hair standing up. I opened the door and stepped out with the others.
“Stay here.” The large man said before walking inside. I look to Felicia and she goes to the back of the car and opens the door where the Latino man is already getting out.
“I’ll watch her, you go.” She said, the man, deciding not to argue walked inside the house, and I decided to follow behind him. My hand clenched onto my pistol, though I know I’m probably not going to use it. I’m weak, not like my sister.
“I asked you to wait in the car.” He said. Though I am assuming he is talking to his son who is following closely behind him.
“Looks like no one's here Dad.” The kid said eyeing around his father curiously. I stayed behind the group with the old man as we walked forward carefully.
“The car's still in the driveway. They've Gotta be here.” The man responded. I stopped in my tracks as we rounded into the living room. The ominous sounds of crunching filled my ears and I felt sick to my stomach, especially when a rancid metallic smell filled my nose.
I thought back to Felicia who was outside and her parents whose home is somewhere near here. We’ll have to get them as soon as we're able. If they're still there, still alive. I shake my head, trying to focus which was far easier said than done.
“Dad?” The kid called out as they all stared at the sight. A man was hunched over a dog, one that looked remarkably similar to Sarge, and eating it. The man fisting chunks of meat into his mouth, I tried not to gag at the smell and took an involuntary step back. The older man gave me a disapproving gaze and stepped closer to the scene. His look fills me with much-needed resolve. I take a sharp breath through my nose before ambling forward, following a few steps behind him.
“Get back,” Travis ordered and held a hand out stopping everyone’s movement. “Lisa get Chris in the car now. Get out of here.” He said again, trying to sound strong but the tone of his voice screamed uncertainty. I looked at his son and who I assumed was his wife before pulling them back towards me.
“Felicia is in the car with the older woman, she could use some help,” I say giving them an excuse to leave. I nod to Lisa, the two of us speaking wordlessly for a moment. After a few seconds, Lisa reciprocated the movement and pulled her son back outside despite his protests. “Old man,” I beckoned the greying man quietly as Travis walked forward, trying to coax the man. He kept saying the name Peter over and over again like it would do anything. The man I called out to turned his head to look at me and I handed him my pistol, grip facing out “Safety’s on.” I informed him, and he responded with a curt nod and took it from my palm. Holding it with a relaxed posture, like he was used to the weight of the cold metal in his palms.
“Hey, you’re sick,” Travis coaxed while walking forward, the man standing up, his body tilted at an awkward angle. It looked almost like he didn’t know how to walk and just started to shamble forward with a limp. “Peter come on, it’s Travis.” He said as he pushed back the approaching man with his hands a few times, trying to keep him at a distance. I swiftly drew my knife from my boot and held it in my palm. Whether that man is sick or dead, I don’t know, but self-defense is self-defense. I think. I bit my inner cheek, trying to stop myself from thinking about the man’s family and friends who are probably worried about him.
“Travis,” I said cautiously, the man staring at us with the same dead eyes as Felicia and I’s neighbor. I glance towards the old man the two of us sharing a momentary look of acknowledgment, I'm tense and I know I can't kill him but I can at least help detain him. I flipped the knife in my palm into a reverse grip, finding comfort in the handle as I held onto it with whitened knuckles. “I don’t think he can talk.” I persisted while slowly creeping forward.
Everything happened in a moment, Peter suddenly pushed Travis down and the two started a struggle. The old man pointed my pistol at the sick person’s head but couldn't find a clear shot. Travis managed to somehow get the upper hand and lifted Peter up before shoving him against the glass while he snapped his jaw open and closed, clearly trying to get a bite out of the man.
“Move!” A blonde woman said, appearing out of nowhere and holding a shotgun to the sick man’s head. Travis turned to look at her with recognition in his eyes but refused to move out of the way. Despite her determination, it was obvious to me that the older woman didn’t know if she could kill the man in front of us, she was hesitating. It was at that moment that a gun fired. My gaze snapped over to the old man who was still holding my pistol. Travis stumbled back in shock as Peter stumbled forward seemingly unaffected by the new, bleeding bullet hole in his jaw. The old man seemed unphased by the scene in front of him and walked forward, placing the barrel of my pistol to the man’s head and pulling the trigger again without blinking an eye. Peter's brain matter splattered against the window as he slumped down to the ground. The man’s head, nothing more than a pile of meat as it hit the wooden floor with a thud.
“What did you do,” Travis uttered in shock as he stared down at his dead neighbor.
“Oh my God.” I breathed out as the old man wiped down my gun with the hem of his shirt before handing it back to me. I grabbed it with a shaky hand and flipped the safety back on, shoving it into its holster in my belt like it was on fire. We all sat in silence for a moment before I remembered the people outside. “We have to bring everyone inside, and lock all the doors and windows,” I declared, finally finding my bearing as I held in the bile that threatened to leave my throat. I sheathed my dagger back into my boot and slowly walked outside.
“Travis, is he okay? We heard a gunshot.” Lisa said rushing towards me, her son close behind.
“Uh, yeah, but, I wouldn’t go in there,” I warned, clearly out of it. Lisa not liking that answer decided to rush inside, her son following after her. I practically staggered to the car where Felicia was with the girl and her mom. “The inside is clear, but...” I trailed off as the two looked at me expectingly. I fidgeted with the bag on my shoulders nervously under their gazes.
“What?” Felicia asked standing up, the girl eyeing me as well while also trying to comfort her mother. “What is it, Nat?” She asked, I licked my lips and looked out across the street. If there are more sick like him, they are going to follow the gunshots.
“It’s safe to go inside. Let's go get-" I'm cut off by the sounds of a girl screaming, the three of us looking at each other before I dashed back inside leaving the three women on their own.
“Alicia!” The blonde woman yelled as I skidded into the living room and out into the yard. A girl no older than eighteen was trying to climb over the fence, and the boy who was around her age ran up to her, trying to assist her.
“Get off of me, get off me.” She repeated over and over, clearly struggling with something. I unclip my bag and let it fall to the ground with a thump as I place it near the wall. I was about to help the boy when they both fell over and the girl hit the boy in the nose causing it to bleed.
“I was trying to save you, Alicia!” The boy shouted angrily while covering his nose.
“Just calm down,” Travis said trying to coax his son. I let out an irritated sigh, if this keeps up then everyone in the neighborhood will come out to see what’s going on. Sick and non-sick.
“We need to get the injured lady out of the car,” I said to Travis, the man in question walking away with his son, clearly not hearing me or not caring. I turn to look towards one of the other new additions. A man who didn't look too much younger than me stood there awkwardly, running a hand through his stringy brown hair. I take a step over to him “Hey, can you come help me?” I asked, “There's an injured woman in my friend’s car.” I repeated, snapping him out of his speechless panicking. He glanced at me wordlessly for a moment before nodding and gesturing for me to lead the way.
“What’s uh, your name?” He asked as we walked out onto the driveway. I observed him for a second before giving him a warm smile.
“Natasha, you?” I asked, kind of happy for the small talk after everything that’s happened in the past few minutes, let alone the past few hours.
“Nick.” He replied, reciprocating my grin, seemingly also pleased for the small distraction.
“Nat," Felicia acknowledged as I walked up before looking at Nick "Man I don’t know, can you two help me move her?” Felicia asked as we walked forward. Nick's eyes were trained on the older woman’s busted ankle as we got closer. It was obvious that it needed surgery, but I don’t think that Felicia can perform one. She isn’t even in her residency yet.
“Yeah.” “Sure.” We said at the same time as we helped move her. Felicia guided us, telling us where to hold so that her leg wasn’t jostled too much. Her daughter holds the injured foot steady as the five of us carefully walk into the house.
“Who are these people Travis?” The blonde woman asked as we carried the older woman inside.
“Is there a room?” Felicia asked Travis nodded before looking towards the blonde woman.
“I’ll explain everything, just give us a minute.” He said “This way.” He continued, leading us into a back room where we placed her on the bed. Felicia turned to look at me.
“My med bag is in the trunk, can you grab it for me?” She asked.
"Sure," I replied before walking out of the room without another word and turning into the living room which looked like a murder scene. Though I guess it is. There was blood everywhere with a dead body and dog on the floor.
The blonde woman did not look happy to see us and I honestly don’t blame her. Shit's going down and it isn't the time to be making new friends. But either way, I am thankful she isn’t fighting us being here too much. I look at my bag on the floor deciding to pick it back up and sling it back over my shoulder. It was a stupid decision to leave it there in the first place. I don’t know these people, and this bag holds all my supplies for the trek to Georgia which is far as fuck.
“Who are you?” The blonde woman asked as I walked out to the car, her footsteps trailing behind me with her arms crossed. I open the trunk and pull out the tan duffle bag that Felicia uses for her practicals.
“I’m a student at UCLA, my roommate Felicia and I ran into Travis and the others while they were running from the riots,” I explained shutting the trunk closed. I turned towards her and looked her in the eyes. “I know you don’t want us here, you have your family, and your plans. Felicia and I won’t stay long, we have our own.” I explained, trying to reassure her.
“What’s your name?” She asked, grabbing the bag from my hands. I’m unsure if she is being nicer because she knows I’m a student or if it’s because she knows I’m going to leave soon. Either way, it’s appreciated.
“Natasha.” I said “You?” I asked as we walked back inside both trying to ignore the carnage awaiting us.
“Madison.” She said looking at me. Her inflection is quite similar to who I assume is her son’s. I nodded my head and we walked back inside in silence until she broke it. “When are you leaving?” She asked bluntly. Her tone reminded me of my sister's as I fidgeted with the strap of my bag before glimpsing over to her.
“Probably after Felicia's done here, Her parents live right down the road,” I explained as I opened the door, a small army of people surrounded the bed. Deciding not to go inside I waited out in the hallway. Nick eventually stepped out the door and leaned on the wall next to me. The two of us didn’t talk, we didn’t really need to while we observed the chaos unfolding before us in comfortable silence.
|7:00pm|
I relaxed back on a plush armchair, my bag resting between my legs as I listened to the family argue. It seems that the blonde woman, Madison, and the girl with hair the same color as mine wanted to leave now. While Travis was asserting that they should leave tomorrow morning. It really isn’t my place to be sitting in on their family meeting. But one; there isn’t really anywhere else for me to go and two; they haven’t noticed I’m here yet and I’m worried that if I move their anger will be directed toward me. Nick stood next to me, being the only one to notice I'm sitting here but not saying anything. Just observing the situation in front of him with an unreadable expression.
There was something about him that made me apprehensive, he was blanketed in sweat, and his hair was practically slicked to his face. Frankly, he looked like shit, and I don’t know why he does which bothers me greatly.
“Hold on. It's dark. We don't even know if the freeway is passable.” Travis said clearly exhausted with the conversation.
“He’s right,” I said deciding to finally break my silence despite my better judgment. The family finally noticing that I'm sitting right next to them. I adjust uncomfortably under their gazes before I speak again “Listen, I get it if y’all wanna go now. But I’m sure that everyone else had the same idea as you. Felicia and I were going to take the I40 towards Georgia to meet up with my sister but it’s going to be packed cars for miles.”
“How do you know that?” Madison asked, “Have you seen it?” She interrogated. Part of me wanted to scoff, to tell her that this is common sense. But truthfully, I don’t know if it is, my sister drilled all this into my head from the moment she came back from Iraq. This family probably didn’t have to live with someone's prepper behavior for the past ten years.
“If you wanted to leave you should’ve left this morning,” I explained candidly. “Plus, is that a risk you really want to take right now? If you get stuck in the desert at night then what? The chances of y'all running out of water is high and there won’t be any out there to purify for miles. Your best bet is to hunker down and sleep through the night before coming up with a new plan in the morning.”
“Mom I think she’s right,” Nick expressed, agreeing with me. “We don’t know what it looks like out there and the roads could be dangerous.” He continued “Let's stay for one more night, lock the doors then leave in the morning.” Madison opened her mouth and at first I thought she was going to reject the idea but instead, she sat down on the couch.
“Fine, but as soon as the sun comes up we’re leaving. We can take the backroads west.” She said with a huff of air.
Glad that the situation was resolved. I took my phone from my pocket and looked at the screen. Zero bars, the cell towers are down. It was about seven at night so I had an hour before my sister was supposed to turn on her SAT phone. I need to ask her if it’s okay if I bring company to Georgia. Felicia will be fine, my sister will find her useful since she is a RN. The others though, I looked at them, she might consider them a liability. Madison seems quick to adapt as does the old man. But the rest are questionable at best, though, there is power in numbers. I let out a sigh leaned back against the chair and stared up at the ceiling, deciding to close my eyes for a moment, my legs wrapped up in my bag as exhaustion took over.