The Passing

Chapter Eighteen [updated]

Walking over countless hills, trudging the repetitive up and down, I can't help but wonder and hope my dad had the luxury of a vehicle during his progression. We walk, taking breaks every ten miles, heading in the direction we hope we'll find Sam and James. It's been a while since our last break, and my legs have turned to rubber. Every step, my knees threaten to buckle or my lungs threaten to implode, all while bile burns at the back of my throat. The bites have grown their own pits of fire, as if someone held a matchstick too close and set them ablaze. The heat spreads, wrapping my entire stomach, back and chest, creeping up my neck and down both legs. Every inch of my skin could start a wildfire, and every time someone comes too close, I pray they don't feel it radiate from my body. Tingling bolts of lightning shoot through my limbs, any touch over stimulating. Periodically, I flex the muscles to keep them from going completely numb.

Every now and then, Jane finds me between passing faces, quick stolen glances to check in on me. After a while, lines drag across her face, drawing down both cheeks with worry. Black specs creep into my vision, floating and dancing across everything I see in a dizzying motion. My feet falter beneath me and I lose my balance, colliding into Avi. He steadies me and looks down at me with skeptical eyes. Averting my attention, I nod and mumble an apology. At the front Savanna walks alongside Lazarus, and they both slowly come to a stop.

"Alright, let's take a break. We'll look for shelter after this." Lazarus says, nodding to everyone as we all catch up. Savanna runs oddly on her toes over to the shoulder, quickly disappearing into the woods. Lazarus watches me as I stammer into the plush grass, careful to keep my distance from the others. I sit off to the side, while Avi and Bee join Jane and Lazarus sit on the guardrail.

Toying with the weeds in front of me, my mind wanders as my body slowly relaxes. The fire never ceases, and the pain never stops. My lungs, already thick with mucus, ache as I struggle to catch my breath. Sweat pools at the nape of my neck, trickling down my spine. I'd give anything for snow right now, any cold semblance to dull the constant fire. Leaning back on my elbows, I kick my legs out, submitting to the intense gravity over my body.

"Hello , Love." Her voice is clear as day.

My heart stops. Slowly, I turn my head. "Mom?" tears wells in my eyes, dripping down the side of my face into my hair. She smiles at me, the creases by her eyes deepening with her grin. My chest flutters, and for a moment time stands still. Her hand reaches out, brushing my hair behind my ear and a bitter taste fills my mouth. Desperately I want this to be real. But the little girl inside me who watched her be ripped apart by the same mouths that infected me, pulls me to reality. Teetering between a dream and what's real, her image dances as if she were under water.

"I miss you."

"I know," I whisper with a trembling voice. My entire being aches for how much I miss her. I'm too terrified to blink for fear she might disappear. My eyes burn and instinct takes over, snapping my eyelids shut. "I'll be with you soon." I say, forcing half a smile as my eyes flutter open. Her now misty image beams back, her own tears glistening in the afternoon sun.

"I'm afraid..." her voice fades with what little remains of her floating image. Footsteps sound behind me and I sit up fast.

"Hey" Jane smiles, coming over to me. My mother's words replay in my head. While I am grateful to hear her voice, I can't help but wonder what she was trying to say. What is she afraid of? Or is it who? The commotion of their conversations as they rest in the overgrown grass carries over, and I try my best to tune them out. Jane comes over to me, offering a bottle of water and a tied cloth pouch. "I brought you something to eat."

"No thanks." My voice is hoarse, unrecognizable even to myself.

Her lips turn down quickly and she sits down beside me, sure to leave a little space. Despite the fact my eyes stay trained to the weeds tangled beneath my feet, I know she's staring. Her eyes are like pinpoints at the side of my head, a yearning to nurture. "I know we don't know each other well, but I want to help, if I can." she says, her voice soft. When I don't say anything she continues. "You need to eat. At least to convince the others that nothing is going on." She's right. Hesitantly, I reach out and grab the bottle and pouch from her hands, gingerly opening both. Inside the dull yellow fabric, a little pile of seeds sit. Sunflower seeds.