Phase 43

Chapter 24 - Elliot

We left the sanctuary with heavy hearts and tear filled eyes. It was nowhere near the same attitude we had sauntered in with. Now, Ashley walked ahead of me as the only girl left in our group.

Charlie and Lucas had been clinging to each other the moment their sister had been shuffled out of our sights. The now oldest boy in the family kept his hands tight around his only sibling, carefully of the wounds that still ached the small kid. I still wasn't sure I was registering what was going on as I picked up the back of our small parade, but I just knew that I had to keep moving, keep going, for Finn's sake.

My father and his brother had stepped into their leader's roles again, keeping us moving and alive. We were all shuffled through the remainder of the compound, given a small apartment, a tracking number, and information on how the Pristine worked. I stared at the small slip they gave me.

124857.

There was nothing else - just that number scribbled on. Tears snaking down my face, I slipped the wretched paper into my back pocket and followed my dad, keeping on tired eye on the boys who had lost everyone but each other.

Why had fate picked so badly on the Bridgemans? First the parents and the eldest son, now the sister who came after? What had they done to deserve so much suffering?

I tried not to think about it, I really did, but it wasn't working. Out of the corner of my eye, I kept seeing her short hair bobbing to a beat in her head, or her cute yellow shirt that she never took off wrinkling with her movements, or the leather of her father's old aviator jacket being taken on and off. She was just there, in the corner of my eye, unable to be reached. Every time I turned to look, she was gone, flitting away and disappearing into the air.

Ashley took up the lead when we found our apartment complex, talking quickly and quietly to the woman at the front desk. She briefly explained where they had come from, and handed over the information we had been told to give to whomever we would run into. The woman at the desk, blonde hair tied up tight, took the information without a word and started to type away. Moments later, a few set of hotel key-cards were being passed over. The adults each took on, pocketing them.

"C'mon you guys, we're up on the fourth floor. Maybe we landed a nice view?" Ashley said with a forced smile. I took a deep breath, pretending I didn't see the tear streaks in her grime-covered face. We all looked like that - covered in layers of dirt and dust and who-knows-what that would take hours to scrub off - but none of us cared.

"We'll get settled in, then try to find a doctor. We need to get his fingers looked at," I caught my dad telling Darren. My uncle's slate blue eyes gleamed, shifting over to the little blonde boy. Lucas was still quiet, his head pressed into Charlie's shoulder.

I said nothing as we pressed into an elevator. We were tucked in the back with a large group of other people. They were quiet and solemn, just like us. The ride up was nothing short of awkward. Dingy music played in the background, annoying everyone.

When our stop came, we squeezed out, counting heads before letting the doors shut. We spilled out into a clean hallway, windows facing to the world outside. I stared out at the dry landscape, eyes empty. We could be out there, with Finn, or in here, without her.

But it wouldn't really make a difference.

I knew it would take me some time to come to terms with it, but Finn had been infected. She had been bit, and she was a phaser. She would die, no matter what I did. I could beg and plead and cry and whine for a cure, for a new hope, but I knew deep down in my gut that there was nothing I could do. We just had to move on, keep going. Yes, the world could be considered hell nowadays, but the sun's still rising an' setting and the Earth's still turning, so we can't give up. It's gonna be horrible, it's gonna be bad, hell, it's gonna be the worst thing the human race has ever gone through, but I have a feeling that we're gonna make it through this.

Sure, the hero didn't really win in the end. We didn't roar in with guns blazing, screaming at the top of our lungs as we plowed over defiled zombies and corpses. We didn't cure the disease, we didn't get rid of the phasers. We haven't learned to live with them, not yet at least. We might someday. I don't know what's going to happen, but maybe there's a beauty to ignorance.

And so, the story goes on. We made it to our apartment, we made it to our beds. We were able to take showers and snack on food and watch TV. Lucas was able to get his fingers fixed up, Charlie was able to find his voice again. Ashley and Darren were able to embrace each other for the first time in a long time, and my father finally came to peace with the monster that had been raging in his mind. And I, unpacking my old backpack and pulling out my wrinkled pictures, had been able to find the time to be thankful for the fact that I was here and alive. That I was safe, for now.

Because, in all honesty, I doubt this will last very long. This story isn't over.