We had made our way up the block and had barely turned the corner. The four of us were within moments of reaching the gate. We had fallen so far behind everyone else, I knew mom must've been worried sick.
I kept my eyes on the gate, almost expecting Mom to come storming towards us screaming 'where were you?!' But it wasn't just mom who came speeding through the gate. Large numbers of individuals and families came flooding into our neighborhood. The same people that had been running towards the gate were now running from it. While I didn't know everyone in the neighborhood, I definitely knew there were protesters making their way inside. Mom. Mom was in the crowd. She ran for a few feet but now she was at a stand-still, frantically whipping her head around in every direction.
"I see mom!" Wyatt shouted as he pointed to her. Towards the gate and into the crowd, we were working our way towards mom and Delilah. I knew Wyatt was beside me but I didn't look over to him. I had my sights set on Mom and my eyes glued to her location. The last thing I wanted was to lose track of Mom and Deliliah.
"Wyatt! Alycia!" Mom screamed, her hair thrashed into Delilah's face as she oscillated her head in every direction. "Alycia, Wyatt!!"
"Mom!" I hollered as I swung my shoulder back, dodging near-collision with one of the running people. Mom's head spun in our general direction but she still had the same panicked expression on her face. We kept running towards her.
"Mom, over here!" Wyatt joined in. He tossed his hands over his head and began waving them in the air, jumping up and down as he hurried down the street. "Mom!" Wyatt continued.
As we got closer, I could see mom wasn't just holding onto Deliliah. While my sister was secured in one arm, my mom was also holding onto a girl's hand. The girl's cheeks were rosey and her eyes were puffy. Tear stains ran all the way from her cheeks down to her neck.
I looked just beyond mom and the girl. She looked like she was around my brother's age and a 16-year-old shouldn't be alone, especially not in this type of situation. However, a few feet by my mom and the girl, there were several sick. Around five or six. They all had crimson liquid staining their nose, cheeks, and chin.
Mom, Deliliah, and the girl still weren't moving. They were in the rear of the crowd and one of the closest to the sick. One of the sick cocked its head in the girls' direction. The same sick swayed his head from side to side, studying my mom like a tiger would size up it's prey.
Wyatt and I both began screaming to mom, calling her name and telling her to run, but she didn't react or even look in our direction. She still stood in the middle of the street, yelling for us.
One of the sick starting charging towards the three and -- Bang. The sick's shoulder blew back. It stumbled back slightly; its legs crossed awkwardly before it regained its balanced and began to run again.
Mom turned around right when gunshots were fired and before she even looked forward, she started running. Bang. The sick's head blew back and it fell to the floor.
I glanced to my left, where the gunshots had came from. Shawn. He had his gun pressed again his shoulder and his finger squeezing the trigger.
Mom and the girl took several leaps forward until they stood right in front of us. Even though we were all thankful to be reunited, no words were said except; "We have to get inside now." My mom had a clear sense of urgency in her voice. Without any explanation, mom released the crying girl's hand and looked at me, clearly suggesting that I hold onto her.
I wrapped my arm around the girl's back and started to run with her. Our house was close to the gate. We didn't even have to run a full block. However, it was still difficult to make it there.
I didn't look back because I knew the sick weren't far behind us. Their hungry snarls wouldn't leave my ears. Every few seconds, Shawn would shoot at them. The repeated booming gunshots were superior to the horrific sound of clashing teeth.
My family and the three others ran up our driveway and to our doorstep. My mom jammed the key into the keyhole and jiggled it around. She swung the door open and we all piled through the door. Mom slammed the door shut and locked it. The sick were at our doorstep, banging their limbs and faces on our front door. But I felt safe.
Since we first started running, this is my first moment of rest. The bottoms of my feet were throbbing. My chest burned with a cold sensation and my lungs stung as I inhaled but I still managed to speak. "What happened?" I looked up at my mom.
"The left us!" She leaned against the wall, each word was broken apart with a staggering breath.
"Who?"
"The military!" Mom answered. "We were supposed to evacuate. But rioters came over, harassing us, and trying to get on the military trucks. They didn't want to separate the residents from the rioters and the sick from the healthy so they just took their families and left us all!" Mom pushed herself off the wall. "And when they left, the sick started coming. But they're not just sick, they're—"
"Cannibals," Shawn interrupted. We all looked over to him. He was in the military and he was probably the only military officer left here. He knew so much more than any of us. "If you get bitten you get sick." Shawn looked over to me as if remembering our short interaction earlier. "When the disease first spread, so many people were being bitten but no one understood what the bite did. Now there's tons of them — of the sick I mean. So there's no more government. And no more military."
"What?" Wyatt'snose scrunched up as the corners of his mouth pointed to the floor. "You're lying." Denial. We had been living in the dark for so long and convincing ourselves that nothing was wrong. Now we were hearing and truth and I don't know if any of us really believed it.
"The military; we're just a group of surviving soldiers who love our families. We built these walls and built this neighborhood to protect them." Shawn looked to his sister and then to me and my family. "You guys just happened to live in a neighborhood, close to the base, that the majority of our station's families live in."
Silence descended upon us. However, the silence was only inside our home. There was still screaming outside and a repetitive banging on our front door. Crying. I knew we all heard it, but no one said anything about it. We were all just pretending like we didn't know people could be dying outside.
"If you get bitten, you get sick?" The girl that came with my mom broke the silence with sobs. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly as she struggled to catch her breath. "So my parents are like that? Sick like them?!"
Again, there was silence. "The military left for a reason. It's not safe here anymore." Shawn looked around at all of us. "We have to leave."
At his words, I looked over to my mom and my brother. "We should bag the groceries and take them with us."
My mom nodded; "You two do that." She pointed to my brother and I. "I'll pack clothes for Delilah and me. Once I'm done, you two pack some of your things. Keep it light. There won't be much room in the car." Mom looked over to Shawn, Jessica, and the crying girl. "We have one car, a minivan. It'll be tight but we can all fit. And Alycia," Mom turned back to face me "pack enough clothes so you can share with Brielle." She motioned to the crying girl, Brielle.
I nodded my head and retreated into the kitchen with Wyatt to bag the food. We had several paper bags and a good amount of canned food. Originally, it was enough to last my family for a month. That was when Josh was alive and there were five of us. Now there were seven.
A few military officers used to leave the walls on the first of every month and return with large quantities of canned goods. They would distribute a certain amount of canned goods to each household, depending on how many people were living there.
Once we removed everything from the pantry, we had a total of six filled paper bags and three packs of water bottles. Everyone helped load them into the car. Mom had a backpack full of clothes for her and Delilah. She even packed another backpack full of Josh's old clothes for Shawn and Delilah's clothes for Jessica. Wyatt and I packed our clothes and stuffed those bags into the car as well. We loaded so many things so quickly, that the bags were messily stacked in the trunk. It was the type of packed, where we couldn't open the hatchback because everything would fall out. We actually had to lug every bag through one of the car doors, to the back row, and over the back row of seats.
We all arranged ourselves in the car. My mom in the driver's seat and me in the passenger. Shawn and Wyatt sat in the middle row while Deliliah, Jessica, and Brielle all sat in the back. After everyone was seated and all the doors were shut, everything felt so real. I didn't really comprehend we were leaving until now. Now it felt real. We were abandoning the house that we lived in for six years. This house held so many memories. This house was full of my favorite memories.
"Okay," Mom spoke up. "I'm gonna open the garage." I wish I could say it was amusing that she warned us, but it wasn't. We didn't really know what to expect because we weren't sure what had happened since we got inside. But we did know it wasn't going to be good. She reached up and rested her pointer finger on the garage door opener. "One...two...and three." Mom pressed the button. Despite the fact that we are in the car, everything around us was so loud. Now that the garage is open, I could hear the screams even clearer. I could hear the names that people were shouting.
My mom backed out of the garage. The sick that were at our front door turned and ran towards our car. They followed our vehicle as the tires thumped down the driveway and into the street. We drove past several bloodied people that laid strung across the concrete, causing the sick to disperse from behind our car in search of easier prey. I studied our neighborhood through the window as Mom drove down the street. Limbs severed from bodies. I noticed one person in particular, our next-door neighbors. We weren't very close; I didn't even know their names but the son was a freshman at my brother's high school, at least, back when school was still in session. Now he laid mauled on the concrete. His arm dangled from his shoulder, clinging on by a few visible tendons.
He was sizing, his head dribbled up and down like a basketball on the concrete. His parents were struggling to grab hold of his head and keep it from it's repeated pounding. He was doing the same things the others had done moments before they turned sick and before they started eating people.
I rolled down my window and the simple 'uuuursh' sound nearly sent my whole family and the three others into a meltdown.
"Um, Alycia," My mom looked back and forth between me and the road.
"What are you doing?!" Shawn tried to reach over from behind me and roll up the window but I shoved his arm away.
"He's sick! He's gonna kill his parents!" Wyatt defended.
"Stop, stop! Roll it up!" Brielle sobbed from the back. "Just roll it up!"
Despite the disapproval, I stuck my head out the window and shouted; "Get away from him," Mom brought our car to a stop beside them and allowed me to continue; "He's sick."
"Alycia, close it!" Shawn interrupted.
"No!" Wyatt vindicated.
"Just let her talk." My mom urged, causing everyone in the car to fall silent.
The mom and dad stared at me; they listened to my words but didn't abide by them. The parents continued to hold onto their son's head and refused to leave his side. "Once he stops seizing, he'll bite you and--"
The boy stopped shaking and shot up into a sitting position. His teeth flew apart and launch themselves into his mother's neck. Blood squirted out of the woman's neck and drained down her body. Blood soaked through her clothes and spilled all the way down to the waistband of her jeans. She screamed and tried to push her sick son off of her but he wouldn't budge. The dad jumped up to his feet and took several steps away from the two away, watching and screaming.
"No, Noooo!" The woman was squealing like a hurt puppy, reaching out to her husband. "Help me! Help! Don't leave! Please don't leave me!" The sick son tore away from his mother, managing to take a large chunk of her skin with him.
The husband shouted in horror before he turned away from her and started running. The mother began flopping around on the concrete and the son started to rise on his feet. I immediately grasped the lever with my finger and pulled up, desperately trying to roll up the window before the sick boy could reach us. The top of the window nearly met the car before the boy came slamming into the glass. The car slightly. He took a few steps back before charging at the window again. The car shook, again nothing more happened. The book took several steps back again, leaning forward as if he was preparing to charge -- mom drove off.
I glanced in the side mirror, observing as the sick boy chased after our car. His jaw loosely bounced up and down as he followed our minivan through the gates. This was the first time in a couple of months that we'd been outside our neighborhood. I looked over at mom. Her knuckles flashed white as her hands clutched the steering wheel. I turned around to glimpse at Wyatt and Delilah. My brother's face was pressed against the window, his eyes glued to the outside. Delilah's eyes were closed as she leaned into Brielle. Brielle's hands clasped her face.
"Hey," I spoke softly, calling to Brielle. She lifted her head from her hands and looked up at me. "I'm sorry about your parents." I didn't know what happened to them but I knew from her question earlier, they were bitten ... or eaten. Sick ... or dead.
"Thank you." Her response was nearly inaudible as her eyes fell down to the floorboard.
Wyatt hoisted his head from the window and looked over to her; "I'm sorry too."
"Thank you."
"I'm Wyatt by the way."
"I'm Brielle." Brielle and Wyatt shook hands.
"It's nice to meet you," Wyatt continued, "So, um, how old are you?"
"Sixteen."
The two continued conversing but I didn't pay my attention to their words. Their whole conversation was drowned out by my own thoughts. Honestly, I was glad Wyatt took over. I felt sorry for the girl and wanted to help keep her mind off of whatever happened, but I didn't feel like I was in the mindset to do so. I turned back around and faced forward in my seat; my gaze returned to the road ahead. I had no idea where we were going, no one did.
I allowed my eyes so slowly fall from the windshield to my lap where my arms rested. I turned my hands upwards and looked down at my bloodied forearms. Blood was smeared around my skin and settled in the creases of my elbow. I killed someone. Even though he was sick, I still killed someone.
"I have," Shawn began speaking. I immediately turned my hands face back down, preventing anyone, especially my mom, from seeing my bloody arms. "I have a buddy. We served two years in --- together. I heard he and some others set up some walls like we did. Except there's is smaller... It's not even really a neighborhood; it's a street." I turned around, looking behind me and to Shawn. "It's in Wyoming. Maybe we should go there."
"That's like, what, A whole day of driving?" Wyatt scoffed, shaking his head slightly.
"Twenty hours of driving to a safe destination." Shawn looked over at Wyatt, raising his eyebrows as he spoke. "It'd be worth it."
"It's not how long that drive is that worries me." My mom interjected as she glanced at the boys through the rearview mirror. "It's the mileage. We'd have to make a lot of gas stops and, frankly," Mom gestured to the windshield and at a gas station. Weeds were growing through the concrete and cars were parked in front of gas pumps. The gas station's store had broken windows and, from what I saw, looked to be completely empty inside. "I don't think we'd have a lot of luck."
"There's no gas left in those places," Shawn informed us. "Everyone panicked when the disease spread. I mean, just look at the prices. 25.99 a gallon. And people were paying that." He leaned forward slightly. "We'd have to sifin gas out of other cars."
"And how would we do that?" Brielle sat forward causing sleeping Deliliah to slide down her shoulder to the back of her arm.
"I know how." Shawn looked around the car before his eyes landed on me. "That's how we got the gas for the military trucks."
My eyes flickered between mom and Shawn. Part of me liked the idea of being back in a safe neighborhood with bordering walls. Another part of me feared the Wyoming safe haven would have the safe fate as our California one had suffered; it'd be overrun and destroyed.
"But what if we could go somewhere closer?" Wyatt challenged. "We wouldn't need as much gas and it wouldn't take as much time."
"Really," Shawn chuckled slightly. "And where would that be?"
"Colorado," Wyatt's response instantly caused my blood to boil. I disapprovingly shook my head at him.
"Oh yeah," Shawn cockily challenged my brother. "What's in Colorado?"
"We're not going to Colorado." I stated firmly, speaking up before my brother had the chance to respond.
"Alycia," Mom hummed.
"We're not going there." I peered over at mom. "There's no point. You know that better than anyone." I turned my gaze behind me and to Shawn. "I agree. We should go to Wyoming."
Shawn's lips curled upward as he opened his mouth to speak but Wyatt refuted before he had the chance.
"What about dad?"
My brows scrunched together; "What about dad?"
"We should be with him!" Wyatt argued. "It's not safe out here a-and he has guns."
I only shook my head before whipping forward, looking out to the road. Wyatt didn't want to go to Colorado because of guns, he wanted to go because he wanted to see dad. Wyatt had always been a daddy's boy. He wanted to watch shows with dad. Play outside with dad. Spend the holiday with dad. But I understood things better than he ever would and I knew things mom would never tell him.
"We'll go to the Wyoming neighborhood," Mom spoke causing me to smirk in victory. "But only after we go to Colorado."
"Yes!"
"You can't be serious." I scowled at mom. She couldn't seriously want to go to Colorado and see dad?
"Well, I am." She glanced from me to the road. "That's what we're gonna do. That's the plan."