Phase 43

Chapter 18 - Elliot

Finn and her brothers were unbelievably strong over the course of the next few weeks. We had long since moved from the town of their family's slaughter, and were now about 3 states away from Minnesota and the Pristine.

We had inhabited a house in a lovely little apartment complex in the northern tip of Colorado. It was the middle of April, so it was just endless foggy days and rain showers. Snow was rare now, but the world was still the same shade of cold grey it had been for the past few months.

My mom had gone out with Darren and Finn to look for food and gas while we stopped and slept in someone's cozy apartment. We hadn't run into too many phasers inside the compound, but outside the walls of the area they had been piling up. It was terrifying to see the effects of the virus so soon, but the virus had been around long enough now to have that 'zombie' effect on its victims. However, this wasn't like the Walking Dead where it was corpses walking around with defiled bodies and mangled faces. The phasers were still human – and you could tell. Aside from the small burns on their faces and the sunken in eyes, they still looked normal. Yes, their posture and actions were much different, but it was still freaking terrifying to face someone who had forgotten they were human and not an animal. It was just a very unsettling thing to experience.

"El, can you check on the boys?" my father called from where he sat in the kitchen reloading guns. I glanced up from the random book I had been flipping through then registered his words and discarded it on the table.

Walking up the stairs, I picked at the hem of my flannel and pulled at the loose threads. I didn't know why I was so uneasy - it wasn't like I hadn't spoke to either of the boys since... that. But still, as I pushed open the door to their room, I felt a blanket of sorrow and silence drape over my shoulders.

"Hey," I called as I hovered near the doorway. The boys had been playing with some old Lego's, their nimble fingers carefully constructing small houses and buildings. I smiled down at the tiny village they had set up.

Charlie met my gaze first, a small ember of flames burning behind his big brown eyes.

"Do you need us?" he asked quietly. Lucas still hadn't looked up. I shifted my weight to the other leg, prying my fingers away from the hem of my flannel.

"No, just checking in," I said quietly. Charlie looked away. "Do you guys want anything to eat?" I tried. Lucas flicked his eyes up, but he kept his head down.

"We don't need you to baby us, you know," Charlie mumbled after a moment of silence. I felt my lips part in surprise as I gaped at the slight hostility in his voice. I curled in on myself slightly, my fingers finding the hem of my flannel and pulling quickly.

"I'm not trying too," I breathed back, trying to distill the sudden static that had filled the air.

"Good," was all Charlie said. Taking a deep breath, I mustered up a small smile for the two of them and then slipped out of the room. Closing the door behind me, I leaned against the wall for a moment. Of course he'd be angry and emotional - he's ten years old and his parents and brother were killed! I tried to tell myself that it wasn't my fault, but guilt still clawed away at me.

I made my way back downstairs, my fingers still pulling at my ruined flannel. I had a rolled up wad of threads pinched between my thumb and forefinger, pulled violently out of their lines in my shirt. My father was still sitting on the kitchen table as I neared, but his hands were clean and the guns were gone.

"They need anything?" he asked once I sat down. I shook my head silently, trying to form words.

"Charlie asked us to stop babying them," I mumbled. My father's slate blue eyes glanced up, filled with understanding.

"I get that - he wants to be the big brother now. He knows he has to step in," my dad said sadly. I nodded, surprised to feel tiny tears pricking at the back of my eyes. I quickly blinked them away, telling myself that this was not the occasion to cry.

My father looked like he was about to say something when the table started to vibrate. A text notification. My fingers shook as I unlocked the phone. I quickly read the message, and started to show it to my dad, but a few moments later the phone started to ring. Grabbing it, I answered the call, putting it on speaker. My father was looking at me with wide eyes.

The phone beeped as the call went through, but I couldn't hear much at first.

"Hello?" I asked quietly. Nothing. I was about to hand it to my dad, but the speakers blared. There was a thud, a slam, and what sounded like a gunshot. By now, my heart was hammering in my chest. Voices warbled from the other end, but I couldn't make out what was going on. My father had stood up.

"If that's Finn, then they're in some sort of fight -" he said hurriedly. I nodded, standing up as well. "Go get your aunt, she's in the back, tell her to come here. We need to think things through before we make a decision."

I nodded, fleeing the room in a frantic search for my aunt. I found her in the garage, salvaging anything she could from the supplies in there.

"Ash, you gotta c'mere," I called. Her silvery brown hair whipped around as she turned, her hazel eyes bright with concern.

"What's going on? Is everything okay?" she asked worriedly. I shook my head, and because I seemed to be unable to form words, I settled for waving my hand at her. She quickly set down the small box of who-knows-what she had been holding, following me up the stairs and back into the house. My father was standing in the kitchen still, his phone in his hand.

"I can't find them."