stomach drops out at the sight. “Sin?” I ask cautiously.
She straightens and looks at me. Her eyes are mournful, her face pale and covered in sweat.
Behind her someone moves into the doorway. They’re slow and slouched and it takes me a second to recognize them. It’s her friend Jude, a girl I’ve seen her party with before. Sienna let her into the house with her.
She let the Fever in.
“Vin, I don’t feel good,” she slurs, swaying slightly on her feet.
I step away from her slowly. “You should go back inside.”
“Are you leaving again?”
“Yes.”
“No!” She closes in on me quickly and I feel my dad fall in behind me, cowering. “Don’t leave again!”
I pull my gun and point it at her. “Stay away from me, Sin. You’re sick.”
“It’s not the Fever. It’s just a cold.”
“I’m leaving, Sin. Just let me leave. Back away.”
“No!” She ignores my gun and lunges at me. “Vin!”
I turn, shoving my dad out of the way toward the road. I go to run but a hand grabs onto my arm. I know it’s Sin. Her grip is small and iron strong and if she so much as coughs near me I could turn. I could die, just like she’s about to. And I don’t want to die.
I raise my hand, my gun hand, and I point it at her face for the third time since this started.
This time I fire.
Three Years Later
4 AO
Chapter Ten
Trent – Eighteen Years Old
I wake to the sound of groaning. Moaning deep and low in protest of pain and suffering, fighting against nature and demanding its will be done. It’s so loud my ears hurt and the ground vibrates under the tree, up through its branches, and into my bones. It’s louder than any swarm I’ve ever seen or heard and I’m truly terrified of what’s coming.
I snap into a sitting position, scanning the ground and coming up empty. There’s nothing. No one. I rub my eyes and search the surrounding area again, but I come up with more of the same. Nothing.
Blind to the source, all I can do is listen as the moan slows and fades out, leaving perfect silence. The whole forest stops with it. Birds, animals, insects. Everyone is listening. Waiting.
I unhook myself from my hammock suspended high up in a thick tree and I carefully climb even higher. Up into the top branches where they become thin and elastic under my weight. When I’ve gone as far as they’ll allow I wrap my body around the now narrow trunk and bring up my binoculars. I can see the highway, the abandoned houses peppered along its western flank, and the great gray ocean beyond them. Normally the beach stretches for a good mile in each direction before being interrupted by jagged black rock, but today is different. There’s a new mountain in the sand, one that wasn’t there yesterday. One that wasn’t there even five minutes ago.
A massive gray war ship has run aground.
It’s tipped on its side running parallel to the beach. The incoming tide rolls up and crashes against its hull, sending a white spray over its beached body. I try to read the writing on the side, but it’s not visible from here. All of its markings are either facing the sky, buried in the sand, or on the backside facing away from me.
I watch the ship closely for over twenty minutes but there’s no movement. Not on it, the beach, or in the forest. The animals are still spooked by the noise, still hiding in their nests or holes, so I do the same. I stay in my tree and I watch.
Another fifteen minutes later and the world starts to come alive again. A bird chirps in a nearby tree. A squirrel ventures out to the farthest point on a branch and looks at me with his round, black eyes. I wave to him. He’s not impressed. His tail twitches twice before he scurries off, looping wildly down the trunk of the tree. Still there’s nothing from the ship. Whoever is on it is either undead or dead, which explains how it lost its navigation and was pulled up on the beach by the tide. It’s probably been without a crew for days.
And
She straightens and looks at me. Her eyes are mournful, her face pale and covered in sweat.
Behind her someone moves into the doorway. They’re slow and slouched and it takes me a second to recognize them. It’s her friend Jude, a girl I’ve seen her party with before. Sienna let her into the house with her.
She let the Fever in.
“Vin, I don’t feel good,” she slurs, swaying slightly on her feet.
I step away from her slowly. “You should go back inside.”
“Are you leaving again?”
“Yes.”
“No!” She closes in on me quickly and I feel my dad fall in behind me, cowering. “Don’t leave again!”
I pull my gun and point it at her. “Stay away from me, Sin. You’re sick.”
“It’s not the Fever. It’s just a cold.”
“I’m leaving, Sin. Just let me leave. Back away.”
“No!” She ignores my gun and lunges at me. “Vin!”
I turn, shoving my dad out of the way toward the road. I go to run but a hand grabs onto my arm. I know it’s Sin. Her grip is small and iron strong and if she so much as coughs near me I could turn. I could die, just like she’s about to. And I don’t want to die.
I raise my hand, my gun hand, and I point it at her face for the third time since this started.
This time I fire.
Three Years Later
4 AO
Chapter Ten
Trent – Eighteen Years Old
I wake to the sound of groaning. Moaning deep and low in protest of pain and suffering, fighting against nature and demanding its will be done. It’s so loud my ears hurt and the ground vibrates under the tree, up through its branches, and into my bones. It’s louder than any swarm I’ve ever seen or heard and I’m truly terrified of what’s coming.
I snap into a sitting position, scanning the ground and coming up empty. There’s nothing. No one. I rub my eyes and search the surrounding area again, but I come up with more of the same. Nothing.
Blind to the source, all I can do is listen as the moan slows and fades out, leaving perfect silence. The whole forest stops with it. Birds, animals, insects. Everyone is listening. Waiting.
I unhook myself from my hammock suspended high up in a thick tree and I carefully climb even higher. Up into the top branches where they become thin and elastic under my weight. When I’ve gone as far as they’ll allow I wrap my body around the now narrow trunk and bring up my binoculars. I can see the highway, the abandoned houses peppered along its western flank, and the great gray ocean beyond them. Normally the beach stretches for a good mile in each direction before being interrupted by jagged black rock, but today is different. There’s a new mountain in the sand, one that wasn’t there yesterday. One that wasn’t there even five minutes ago.
A massive gray war ship has run aground.
It’s tipped on its side running parallel to the beach. The incoming tide rolls up and crashes against its hull, sending a white spray over its beached body. I try to read the writing on the side, but it’s not visible from here. All of its markings are either facing the sky, buried in the sand, or on the backside facing away from me.
I watch the ship closely for over twenty minutes but there’s no movement. Not on it, the beach, or in the forest. The animals are still spooked by the noise, still hiding in their nests or holes, so I do the same. I stay in my tree and I watch.
Another fifteen minutes later and the world starts to come alive again. A bird chirps in a nearby tree. A squirrel ventures out to the farthest point on a branch and looks at me with his round, black eyes. I wave to him. He’s not impressed. His tail twitches twice before he scurries off, looping wildly down the trunk of the tree. Still there’s nothing from the ship. Whoever is on it is either undead or dead, which explains how it lost its navigation and was pulled up on the beach by the tide. It’s probably been without a crew for days.
And
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