The Seventh Day (21 page)

Kyle puts his turn signal on and turns onto my
street. I smile when I hear the ticking of the signal. He starts to laugh,
shaking his head. Lee giggles in the backseat, slapping him. We don't have to
say a thing to get the car roaring with laughter.

I finish laughing, putting a hand out for him.
“Stop before the house. In case there are any biters still alive. I saw quite a
few still on the highway.”

He gives me a look. “I’ll come with you.”

“No, take these guys to the mountain and check on
my sister. I’ll wait in the house until the night’s over and then get supplies
with my dad.”

Kyle’s mouth tightens, and for the first time I
notice how soft his lips look normally. “If he isn’t here, you’ll be alone. We
go together.”

I want to argue but he has a point. I don't want to
be alone. He pulls over two doors down from my house, in front of Mrs.
McFarthen’s house. I can’t help but ask, “How do you know where I
live?”

“I checked it out on Google Earth before we
left Boston. We came here first.” He shrugs, taking his seat belt off. It is
exactly like Lee said it would be—he came for me. He panicked and I was
the first place he thought to go.

I look around the neighborhood before
checking my magazine and climbing out. Miles jumps out with us, nodding at the
barren street filled with bodies, trash, and vehicles. “We’ll meet you up
there
tomorrow with supplies and your dad, if he’s here
somewhere. If he’s already there we’ll tell him you’re coming.” He looks at
Kyle with a serious face. “I don't need to tell you to take care of her?”

“You can if you want to. The big-brother
antics kind of do it for me.” Kyle winks at him.

They’re the kind of guy friends that make
you ponder their sexuality. Miles lifts his middle finger in the air. “See you
in a day, dick.”

“Make sure the girls are okay,” I add, also
an unnecessary thing to say.

“We will.” Lee waves at me from the
backseat as Erin climbs up front. Miles climbs in and drives off, leaving us on
the street in front of the house.

Kyle gives me a weird look. It isn’t
exactly a smile, but it’s something I consider pleasant. He runs a hand through
his hair and I don't know if it's the dim light of the setting sun or what, but
when his lips curl up into a grin, I find it boyishly attractive. Knowing all
his little secrets makes it easier to see the good side of the creepy
cyberstalker who Google Earths your house so he can come and save you.

I turn and walk toward the house,
remembering I left the garage door unlocked when I left my mom in there to die.
The streets are still, with only the whistling wind to taunt us, or encourage
us.

“Shouldn't we look around before we go in?
In case someone is here?”

“No. Shhh.” I lift my hand to the cold knob
of the side door into the garage and shake my head. When I turn it my stomach
starts to twinge. I don't know what it is, but something picks at me. The stale
air in the garage doesn't feel right. I walk across, still getting a faint
scent of bleach in the air.

When I lift my hand for the knob to my house,
something grabs my arm. I jump, turning back to see Kyle pressing his finger to
his lips. “We don't usually go inside of houses, Lou. We need to be careful.
People are crazy.”

I nod but open the door anyway. There is
something stronger than reason pulling me forward. I push the door to the
hallway open, smelling and listening at the same time. The house stinks a
little like the fridge door is open and the food is rotting. I peek my head
inside, scanning the still hall and front door. The boards are up and the stain
on the bench still haunts me.

I look back at Kyle, smiling a little and
mouthing, “Did you really pee?” He nods, crossing his heart silently. It makes
me feel better.

We creep inside and the moment he closes
the door I see her hand. The boards are up in the back living room and kitchen,
and my mom is still on the floor, exactly where I left her.

But her hands aren’t where my eyes are
stuck. The note is gone.

He came in—he saw it. I forgot all
about it. I turn to Kyle, sighing. “My dad was here. The note telling him I
went to the ski mountain is gone.”

He wrinkles his nose, his stare avoiding my
dead mother on the floor. “And no cell phones to just ring up Miles and get him
to turn around. Excellent. Did I mention I am loving the future?”

I glance at the stairs, pausing for a
moment and contemplating all the clean laundry we have upstairs. “Speaking of the
future, you want to get changed? The tubs are both full of clean water and we
have clean clothes.”

He opens his mouth to protest but agrees. “Okay.”
He offers me his hand. I place mine in it, enjoying the feel of the warmth and
pull him toward the stairs. We still move in silence. For me it’s partly out of
respect for my dead mother’s body in the kitchen. But also I have never led a
boy up the stairs in my house before. I have never had a boy in my house when
my parents weren’t home.

Touching his hand makes my stomach ache but
I continue to climb the stairs slowly, silently. When I get to the top I nod at
my parents’ room. “Go in there. The bathroom has water to wash up with. My dad’s
clothes should fit you.”

He looks like he might say something else,
but I let go of his hand and walk into my room, closing the door. I lean
against it and take a deep breath. I like him and I don't know how to feel about
that.

The cool air in my room feels nice,
refreshing even. I drag my shirt off and my pants, slinking on my robe, taking
a deep breath of it. The smell of the robe is my family. I open the door back
up, peeking down to my bathroom I share with Joey. He’s not in the hall and the
door to my parents’ room is closed so I creep to my bathroom. I drop the robe
to the floor, stepping into the cold water and lowering my tense body. I grab
the soap and wash as fast as I can, trying not to gasp at the frigid water. It
stings in places I didn't even know I was cut. My body has become numb to
everything lately.

I don't dry off. I jump back up and shrug
on my robe, walking back to my room shivering. When I close the door the cool
breeze coming in my open window makes the shivering worse. I realize then that
I never left my window open. I closed it, purposefully, when I was boarding
everything up. My dad must have.

The wind feels like it chills the air
around me a hundred degrees. I swear I have frost on my skin so I hurry to my
dresser, pulling on clean clothes, three layers of them.

I open the closet to grab a pair of shoes. I
smell it then. The open window must have stopped me from smelling it with the
closet door closed.

From the dark, gray hands fly out at me. A face
I don't know stumbles from the back, snarling and growling at me. Hands drag me
down. The gray face of the gaunt man cries out as he shoves his hand into my
mouth. I scream, clawing at him frantically, but as I push at his face his
mouth clamps down, sending searing pain up my arm. Movement behind me flashes,
the man cries out, blood sprays across my face, getting in my mouth. The rusty,
rotten taste of it coats my tongue. I gag, heaving onto the floor.

The dying man’s ragged breath ends with the
flash of silver and the grunt of Kyle as he drags me back from the closet. His
body wraps around mine as his eyes search me in
a frenzy
.
“Are you hurt?”

I lift my hand, wincing and sobbing but
trying to spit onto the carpet in my room. He wipes me. “It’s probably fine—it’s
the evening of the seventh day. You’re fine. Trust me, this isn’t even that
deep.” He wipes, causing me to cry out again.

“What’s going on?” A man’s voice I know
fills the panicky moment. “Lou?”

I swear I’m hallucinating, but when I turn toward
the voice I see his face. “Dad?”

“LOU!” he jumps down, grabbing me and lifting
me into his arms. “LOU, YOU’RE ALIVE!” He kisses my cheeks and hugs me. I’m
dangling in the air and being crushed when he pauses and looks at the trembling
guy standing in front of him. “Who’s this? Is that my sweater?” He lowers me
and lets me stand next to him.

Kyle lifts a hand. “Kyle Severson, sir. A
friend of Miles O’Brian from Boston.”

Dad shakes his hand, staring at him and
then the man on the floor. “Did he bite you?”

Kyle shakes his head, his face paling. “Not
me.”

My dad’s eyes dart to me. He wipes the
blood from my face. “It’s unlikely to be infected without a bite. You’ll be
fine if the rotten blood got in your mouth.”

I lift my slowly bleeding hand, seeing the
blood drop to the carpet.
His eyes lower.
“That is
very likely to infect you.”

I nod. “But the doctor at the base on
Whidbey said that the material expires tonight, at the end of the day.”

Dad shakes his head. “That's not quite how
it works. What the man meant was that the material makes anyone hosting it—or
infected as we all say—expire. The material self-destructs, erasing all trace
of itself. It’s a way of ensuring the material never makes it into the enemy’s
hands. We can destroy it by imploding the host.”

Kyle slumps to his knees. “Oh, come on.”

My hand is throbbing but the lump of fear
in my throat is the part that hurts the most.

The light comes and goes behind my eyes, making it
hard to see my father but I can hear him. He’s shouting at Kyle, and even
though they don't know each other, Kyle is shouting back. Everything is being
shuffled around me and for some unknown reason it agitates me. I can feel the
annoyance setting me off but I refuse to open my mouth. My legs twitch like
they want to run.

I push to my feet, stumbling down the stairs. My
legs aren’t working the way I need them to so I trip part way and slip down the
last couple steps, slamming into the wall across from the last stair. Her hand
catches my eyes, drawing me to her. I stagger there, bumping and knocking into
walls. The urge to lie down is so overwhelming I can hardly fight it.

Light fills my head again, limiting my vision. But
I can still see her hand.

A spasm jolts me, dropping me to my knees as a
scream fills the air. I only realize it’s me screaming when I close my lips and
the noise stops. My fingers feel along the floor, dragging me to my
destination.

When I feel her hand brush against mine I allow my
body to flop to the floor, the thing it’s been wanting since the weird feeling took
over. I slide my hand over hers, hardly able to see. Her skin is warm compared
to mine. Either she’s warmed from decomposition or I’m freezing. I don't feel
cold but I don't really feel anything.

My hands grip to her as my mind tells me she’s
alive and she’s holding my hand too. She’s touching me, loving me. She’s there,
here, with me.

“I’m sorry, Mom.” The words leave my lips as a soft
whisper but there’s something gravelly to my voice. It doesn't sound like mine.

It’s then that the change starts. I feel every hair
on my body instantly and then again nothing. The nerves turn on, sending
screaming pain through my body and then off again. It’s akin to being
electrocuted. I almost wonder if my father is doing to me what he did to that
other man, but then the pain increases. My jaw clamps shut, as does my grip on
my mother’s hand.

Images flash through my head, taking over
everything and making me relive each moment.

The time I was mean to Joey for being slow. I was
thirteen and angry I had to walk her to kindergarten. She was so slow, I wanted
to hang out with my friends, not be responsible for her. In the image she’s so
tiny. I hate myself for being mean to her.

The time I spit in my mom’s coffee. I watched her
drink it. I didn't say anything. My grip on her hand lessens with shame.

The time I lied and told my dad I needed to be
picked up because someone was following me, but really it was just that I had
partied all night and was tired and lazy. The stressed look on his face killed
me when I realized what I had done. But I never told the truth.

The time I kissed Sasha’s boyfriend, Mark. We had
smoked a joint, something I never did again because I hated not being in
control.

The time I stole a
lip gloss
just to see if I could.

The time I told Miles a teacher had asked him to
come to the workout room at the gym at 4 p.m. because I knew Sabrina Holt was
there with Lars McLennan and they had a thing behind his back. I didn't do it
because I wanted Miles to know, I did it because I wanted Miles.

Each moment stings and burns inside of me. Hot
tears seep through my squeezed eyelids. Nothing in my body hurts as much as my
heart from seeing each sin. That's how they’re registering in my head. They’re
a sin. I am a sinner.

The white light burns its way through me, and
somewhere along the journey it becomes the most pain I have ever felt, and I
get lost. I know I’m in my body. I know I’m me. But I get lost.

The pain fades, I think because a decision has been
made about something.
Maybe my sin.

My eyes flutter, bringing into view the grayish
hand of my mother in my fleshy palm. Her skin is dried and coated in something,
crystals. They shine in the weird light I see.

Noise catches my attention. My head jerks to the
left and then the right. I feel like someone is driving me, someone is moving
me to the place they want. My hands press down, lifting my body into the air
until my legs can find their way to a position where I can stand. It tugs at
joints and ligaments and hurts but I can’t stop it.

When I’m standing the pain goes away but something
else takes over. Thirst. Hunger. Desire. My teeth feel like they’re sweating or
secreting, they’re so desperate to feel something between them. I walk to the
noise, unsure of my footsteps. Kyle lumbers down the stairs. Each of his steps
reverberates inside of me.
He smells, I know his smell.
He stops on the stairs, giving me an odd look. “Lou?”

I clench, wanting so badly to bite him. His smell
becomes a taste in my watering mouth. He takes a step away from me, taking his
deliciousness with him. “Lou.”

My foot moves clumsily, taking me up one stair.

“She’s gone!” he shouts up the stairs.

The feeling inside of me drives me forward. I lunge
as a growl rips from my throat.

My father is on the stairs suddenly. His eyes meet
mine. “Lou, I need you to try to fight it, baby. Don't bite. Please, try to
fight it. I need you to come with me to the bedroom. I think I have it.” He
offers a hand. My brain sees a place to bite down. I want it so badly but the
smell of him rings throughout my body. He’s safety and home and love. Those
things are stronger than the rest of it. I turn away from him, walking back
down the stairs. I have to drag myself into the other room, forcing my brain to
work with me. It fights the entire way, feeling like the power inside of me is
surging or like I am rebooting. I drop to the floor
again,
clinging to the woman who I now see I never loved enough. I was always so mad
at her for not loving me, but now I see. She fought this urge. She forced
herself up those stairs. She suffered through this unbelievable pain and misery
because she didn't want to bite us. She lay there, pretending to sleep. There
is no way I could sleep right now. It was an act to keep us alive.

I am clinging to the tiny spark of me that's left
inside, like she must have.

She loved me. I never loved her the right way. And
now I am too late to tell her.

I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe softly, wishing
it would just kill me.

The smell I want, the taste I can imagine, and the
warmth I’m craving surrounds the back of my body. Kyle rubs my arms. “I think
she’s starting to fade.”

“She’s fighting it. Some people can. They have to
be strong to do it. She’s like her mom. Strongest woman I ever met.” My dad’s
voice filters in through the noise in my head. Tears fill my eyes but I keep
them shut. “She needs to hold this. We are going to get one shot at this. If
it’s not enough of a jolt, they won’t die inside of her. The clock is ticking.”

Kyle leans across me, reaching his body over mine. While
my teeth want to bite down, my brain forces images, memories. The picture of
the dog paw prints he sent me when his beloved dog died. He cried. He wasn't
ashamed to tell me that he had cried when the dog died. His father called him a
pussy for it.

The time we stayed up
all night
,
playing and chatting and fell asleep on the phone.

He told me the secret about his dad having the
affair on his mom. He had said that it was something people like his dad did.
It was expected. You weren’t normal if you didn't have at least one mistress.
He had said he never wanted to be that way. He saw what it did to his mom; she
drank and pasted a fake smile on her face all the time.

He hated his family and we commiserated on that
fact. I hated my mom.

He sent me pictures from cool places, mostly
because we agreed not to send each other
pictures
. We
agreed not to make it real.

I see now how real it was for us both. How real it
is.

His body leaning across mine is real. It’s warm and
it smells like something I find attractive, safe even.

His hand touches mine, making me flinch. He lowers
my jaw, placing something in my mouth. I bite down, moaning almost at the
sensation of biting. It’s joyous. His hands touch in other places, my chest and
back maybe. I don't know. The biting distracts me.

“The stickers don't work. They’re not sticky. They won’t
stay in her hands. She could let go and it won’t work.”

My dad comes over. His breath lands on my cheek.
“Lou, you need to hold this. You need to, okay?”

I don't move. I can’t. If I do I’ll bite one of
them. I want to tell them I can’t do what they need.

“It doesn't matter if she holds it, the charge is
only going so high. There’s also the issue of her heart stopping. We need to
realize if we use this there won’t be enough juice to bring her back.”

It doesn't matter to me. I want to tell them that.

“I’ll hold it. Then current will flow through me,
creating more energy and then it’ll jolt her. If both our hearts stop, you
bring her back, not me,” Kyle mutters, kisses my cheek once, whispering, “I
couldn't imagine a world without you, Lou. I can’t live in that world.”

Tears are drowning me, from the inside. I can’t cry
properly so they choke me up. A hand grabs mine, Kyle’s. “NOW!” My dad shouts
and everything goes black with pain.

The sounds fade away, taking the pain with them.

My mother’s voice fills the dark space, “Lou, Joey
needs you, baby.” I can’t see but I can feel her lips on my cheek. “Go find
her, and kiss her for me. Make sure
she knows, she saved me
.
I love you both so much. You have to see it.”

Instantly, her sweet voice is gone and the silence
is filled with screams.

“GOD DAMMIT, LOU! DON’T DO THIS TO ME!”

His lips press
on mine, choking
me with air and pushing hard on my chest
.

Pain fills me, bursting from me in a series of
coughs and chokes. His arms surround me, gripping hard. Kisses land on my
cheeks and lips and forehead. I smile. “Dad!” My voice is a croak.

I manage to get one eye open, smiling wider when I
see it’s Kyle and I have control of my lips again. I don't want to bite him,
not exactly. Somewhere inside of me the urge to bite is there but it’s
diminished incredibly. I scan the area I can see for his face, the one I have
worked so hard to find. My dad isn’t there, but I can feel a hand on me. He’s
got to be here somewhere. I have traveled so long and so far and been so scared.
All of it has been building inside of me for the moment I am about to have: a
proper reunion.

I try to clear my throat to talk but there’s a lump
in there. When I look back at Kyle, tears run down his cheeks, and I have a
feeling they are not tears of excitement to see me alive and breathing. “Dad?”
I croak again.

Kyle’s eyes dart behind me.

Fearing the worst, I turn my neck, wincing at the
pain in my body. My father’s hand is still gripping to my arm. I sigh when I see
it, until I notice his fingertips are dark purple, as is the place where he’s
gripped to me. We are both burned.

He’s on his back with his head next to my mother’s.
His other hand is cupping her face. Neither of my parents moves, their chests
don't rise.

I feel the world collapse around me but refuse to
see what is right there. I can’t breathe. Sounds leave my lips in gasps. My
hands can’t move as fast as I want them to. Everything feels pulled and sore
and drained. I manage to get on my stomach, dragging myself to his lifeless
body. “DAD!” the hoarse cry breaks part way. “DAD!”

I shake him but he doesn’t move.

Kyle, finally popping out of the state he’s in,
scrambles to the other side of Dad, lifting his chin and breathing into his
lips. His hands come down onto his chest, pounding on him. I want to cry and
tell him to stop, but I know he’s trying to save him too. Dad and I shake and
shudder from the impact of Kyle’s assault but only I breathe and move on my
own.

He blows again and again and at some point we both
give up. I collapse on my father while Kyle sits staring at us both.

I close my eyes, almost begging my dead parents to
take me with them.

“I can’t do this alone, not anymore.” The words are
broken with my ragged voice.

Kyle covers
me and dad with his
body, holding tight to me
. “You aren’t alone. You aren’t alone.”

But some part of me doesn't believe him. I think
it's the part that feels the life and soul of my father slowly sighing from his
dead body.
That part
of me that can’t let go of them.