Wait For Me

Chapter 1

Nothing could have prepared her for this.

Nick's ranting and raving about Gloria merely three months ago sounded like yet another heroin-induced delusion. Matt's fever, she had thought, was nothing more than just the flu everyone said was going around.
However, as time wore on, she was forced to confront her new reality. The dear neighbor who helped the family through Alicia's meltdowns became a snarling menace, arms outstretched through the fence in hopes of a meal. Swarms of rotting bodies groaned as they shuffled across sand dunes as she gathered supplies with the others. And, the most repulsing to her, a biter engorged with sea water clogged the Abigail's water filtration system, tainting what could have been her next shower.

But that was already in the past. The Abigail became nothing but a memory, as well as the man after whom it was named. Strand led them through Mexico for what felt like years after the death of his love, only to fall into a dangerous pattern of psychosis and alcohol abuse shortly before his self-inflicted demise. Travis and Chris disappeared into the desert and, though she hoped they were alive, most likely didn't make it. At least, that's the way Madison saw it. Alicia watched in horror as her mother crept into the cycle of alcohol abuse over the course of two weeks, though she wasn't nearly as damaged as Strand. She seemed to perk up a bit when Nick returned from his "exploration," as he called it. In the past, Madison would have been livid as she had been many times before throughout Nick's addiction, but the fact that he even survived five days alone in the desert was too much of a relief for Madison to analyze and criticize.

Now, three months after the outbreak, Alicia found herself back in Los Angeles, Mexico a distant memory better left untouched.

Madison sobered up for this day, unwilling even in her darkest corners to allow Ofelia, Nick, and Alicia venture out for supplies on their own. As expected, Nick adamantly denied any need for her company. Also as expected, Madison pulled the "you're an addict so you can't be trusted" card, to which Nick rarely responded. Ofelia avoided throwing herself in the middle of their confrontations, instead opting to focus on Alicia.

"How are you doing? They've been bickering a lot lately," Ofelia muttered under her breath, eyeing the mother and son thirty feet ahead of them, careful to keep her voice low.

"Fine." Alicia responded, albeit uninterested. She appreciated the fact that they finally made it past the taller buildings of the city and into the suburbs, each yard covered in either lifeless, brittle grass or chalky stones and cacti. She had few distractions for when Ofelia decided to poke and prod, which was every day, and figured pointing out how the dead grass looked like the grass in the Savanna was useless. She could feel Ofelia's eyes drilling into the side of her head, her peripheral vision confirming it. "What?"

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Alicia wanted nothing more than to roll her eyes. The arguments Ofelia thought were unsettling actually paled in comparison to when Nick was a teenager, sneaking out every night to score with his friends and returning a couple days later, frantic. "Yes."

"Okay, well...let me know if you need anything." Ofelia watched Alicia a moment longer, searching for any sign that Alicia would take up her offer and ease her nerves.
No such luck.

Finally.

"Oh sweet, a liquor store!" Nick's voice jolted Alicia back to the space ahead of her.
He jogged up to the barred windows, cupping his hands around his eyes to get a better look inside. He knocked on the glass between the bars and listened closely for any stirring within the store.

Alicia tightened her fists and pulled her chapped lips taut. Please, please... she begged any deity that may hear her internal pleas. The group was going on day two of no food. Alicia couldn't figure out what she hated more: the aching pit in her stomach or the jagged edges of skin across her lips. She relaxed her lips to run her tongue over them, instantly regretting the decision when the nerves beneath the cracked skin screamed back to her. Without thinking, she dug her nails into her palms at the sensation. Another mistake. A restrained sob croaked from her tightening throat. She hated the fact that she was thankful her dehydrated body couldn't muster up enough moisture to produce tears.