When The Light Goes Out (36 page)

"Are you hurt?" "A little."

"Were you bitten?" "Nuhuh."

"Good." "I'd say." "Why?"

"I know what happens when you get bit. You get bit and you turn into one of them, right?" "Yeah."

I scooped it up the moment it got close enough. It was bleeding.

"Who hurt you?"

The boy, it was definitely a boy, shrugged.

"You'll be okay, baby," Malachi shock, shock ran a hand through the boys hair. Ruffled it gently. "You'll be okay."

I agreed, "Yeah. He's as good as any doctor. Fixed up one of our friends he's in the other room, recovering just fine!" I tried to be as reassuring as possible the boy was shaking pretty bad. Whether he was nervous, to just in pain and nothing else was a mystery to me.

"We'll have you fixed up in no time." "No time at all."

"Promise."

"Guys!" I half shouted it when we walked back into the room the group was in. "We've got a little visi" Why the hell were there zombies on the fire escape?

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I winced at the break. Stared at it.

Refused to admit it existed. I didn't want to believe.

But there it was, my wrist bent at an odd angle. An angle that was so unnatural I wanted to poke it, but I knew the pain that would come with that, so I didn't. I just stared. Malachi was rushing around, trying to find something to bind it with. Or at least that was his claim. I myself was pretty sure that he just didn't want to set it.

I couldn't blame him. I was a crier.

I didn't have a very high threshold for pain. I didn't.

How did I get into this position you ask? Well..

After the entire group had spent a moment staring at the zombies on the fire escape, we all high tailed it out of the room, and up the stairs. I'd still had the child in my arms, promising him that he'd be safe. He'd be perfectly safe because I wouldn't let anything get him. I hadn't realized how bad my balance had been thrown off until I was up the third flight of stairs.

That was when I'd tripped.

I'd been moving in the front, giving the orders with Malachi to make sure there was nothing in the way as Jared and Jeremy carried Ian as quickly as they could. Blaz stood in the back ready to kill, and Lila was somewhere in the group doing.. something. I didn't know. I didn't care. I was just making sure that the kid was safe, and there was nothing in the way.

I'd just leaned too far forward.

I hadn't heard the bone snap at first; the bone in the wrist of the hand that I shoved down to catch myself. It was my right wrist. My strong wrist. But I'd managed, by some strange stroke of luck, to push myself back into an upright position so I was able to keep moving. And I did keep moving, all the way to the roof with the others, young boy still in my arms.

I hadn't noticed the pain.

The adrenaline had numbed it or something.

The little boy pointed it out with a simple, "What's wrong with your hand?"

That was when Malachi started rushing around, and I realized that the snap I'd distantly heard on our trip up the stairs was not, in fact, a door being broken down. That was when I

wanted to, but refused to poke it, because I knew better. Blaz didn't.

Bastard poked it.

The pain came in full force.

"Holy
fucking
Jesus. Mother of God."

"I never knew Jesus was the mother of God." "Shut the
fuck
up Jeremy."

"Sorry."

"That hurt. That hurt. That hurt. That
hurt
. You fucking bastard why the hell did you do that little boy don't you ever let me catch you repeating any of those words, you got that?!" "Can do," the boy sounded amused.

"I wanted to see if ye'd yell when I poked it." "Pleased with the result?"

"Indeed."

"Fucking bastard." "I got wood!"

I choked, "
Wood
?!"

Malachi was rushing back over to us, oblivious to the fact that I wanted to kill the old man who was standing there grinning at me. He did indeed had a couple chunks of wood in his hands, dashing towards me like a mad man. I didn't comment. Didn't ask any questions.

Man
I had a dirty mind.

I hoped it took a while for the zombies to realize we were on the roof.

"Wood? Man, what for?" I spoke around the pain shooting up my arm. It started in my wrist and traveled up from there. Up my arm, across my shoulders, down my spine. It went through my entire body and I just stared at the wood.

"To make a splint." "Excuse me?"

"A splint. Set the bone, keep it immobile, it heals. It doesn't hurt anymore." "
Set
the bone?"

"I heard that's painful." "Oh, shut up Jared." "No you shut up Lila."

"How about
everyone
shuts up, and you, Malachi, go put that wood back where you got it from. You aren't setting
any
bone of mine." "Why not?"

"Because it'll
hurt,
you bastard!" "No shit?"

"I don't
want
it to hurt, how's about that?" "Well, if you hadn't fallen"

"The kid threw me off balance!" "Don't try to pin this on me!"

"Oh shut up kid!" "My tummy hurts."

That was about the time that I realized the kid had said he was hurt originally. It was the reason I'd been carrying him the entire time. I looked over at Malachi. Staring straight at him until he shifted uncomfortably, looking away from me.

"I'll let you set it if you take care of him first." "Deal."

"Good."

"You'll be okay kiddo, just show me what's wrong."

A bleeding gash on his stomach was what was wrong. It looked like someone had cut into him, and the disturbing part was that it was half sewn closed. That did it, I admit, I leaned to the side the threw up raisins, chips, and soda. Dry heaving for as long as it took to steal a good bit of my energy. Then came the shakes and I didn't know what else to do.

Really.

I didn't.

"Baby, who did this to you?" The little boy shrugged.

"You don't know?" He shrugged again.

"Come on baby, you need to tell us."

"But I won't," and the smile that accompanied his words was almost infectious. I didn't understand. I simply did
not
understand.

"Baby, why won't you tell us? Did they threaten you? Because if they did, we can stop them. They won't lay a finger on you, I swear on my mothers life." "Swearing on yer mothers life durin' a zombie invasion?"

I froze.

"You have a point there Blaz." But I wasn't entirely sure what else to say. "Just tell us sweetpea, that way we can help you. We can make everything all better." "No one can make everything better."

I couldn't help thinking that such was a dismal way for a kid to think. Very dismal. He was giving up and he couldn't have been ten. He put no trust in adults, and I wasn't even that much of an adult yet. Not yet. No. I couldn't think of myself as that much of an adult. I refused. Absolutely refused. I still had a
little
kid left in me.

At least a little.

"At the very least," because it
was
all I could think of, "We can try." "It's useless."

"But it'll be done."

"But I don't want you to." "Tough shit."

"Yeah, 'tough shit.'" The entire damn group agreed with me. We all had the same views on harmed children?

Possibly. Maybe.

I didn't know.

I didn't know anything. I never knew anything. I wished I did.

I wished I was one of those people, like some kind of grandparent, with endless stories, and answers to questions that seem impossible to figure out. I wished I was like that, because then I'd never be lost as to what my reaction should have been. Maybe if I'd done more growing up I wouldn't have been. Maybe if my parents were different. I couldn't be sure. I didn't want to be.

It wasn't important. The kid was. "Sweetie?"

"Nothing. It's nothing."

He was desperately trying to get me off his case, but I was determined not to budge. I wasn't going to let it go until he told me what the hell happened. Who did it. At the
very
least
what the hell
happened
! I couldn't help thinking that was really what was bothering me. I didn't want to believe that another human being was capable of doing such a thing, so I wanted to know what
did
make it happen.

"Sweetie, you have to tell us."

"I don't have to tell you anything." Contempt. "You're not my mom or dad, any of you. You don't
know
me. I don't have to tell you a goddamned thing, and you should be happy I'm here with you at all."

Perhaps he was right.

"Oh," Blaz glared, "Stop bein' a snot." "I am
not
a snot."

"Then stop actin' like ye is one." "Who said I'm acting like one?!"

"I did, obviously. Ye need yer ears cleaned or somethin'?" "Oh, shut up!"

"Don't ye talk to me that way, brat! I'm yer
elder
. Ever heard of
that
?!"

"A'course I've heard of that! But I've also heard of giving respect once you've
received
it!" "I carried you up the stairs!" I hadn't meant to shout, but that was how it ended up.

"That's sympathy!"

"I expect restitution!" "Resti wha?"

"She expects payback for her pain." "Bite off!"

"No!"

"I'm not paying you anything!"

"I'm not asking you to pay me anything! I'm just telling you to behave, and let that impatient man over there fix you up!" "Oh"

"And tell us who hurt you!" "No! Go away!"

"I'm not going anywhere, you brat!" "I don't want you near me."

"Fine, if you want to walk on your own now, go ahead." "No.. I.."

"Make up your mind." "I.."

"Excel, stop pressuring him." "I'm not pressuring him." "Yes you are!"

"No, I'm not."

"Get off Excels back!" "Why?"

"Because!"

"But Excel's pressuring him!" "Let Excel pressure 'em!"

"Lay back, and I'll be done soon." "But it'll hurt.."

"You are
pressuring
him!" "Excel doesn't have the right!"

"I've got stuff that'll make it so that it won't hurt you." "I am
not
pressuring
him!"

"That's what they said."

"God, Excel, you can't be helped!" "Leave Excel alone!"

"They said it wouldn't hurt?" "Yeah."

The groups various arguments ended when there was a sniffle hic, and the young boy started crying. Because he was in pain. Because he'd been double crossed by adults. Because he didn't want Malachi messing with his body. All of the possible reasons were completely understandable, I couldn't blame him.

I would have been scared too.

"Shush boy, shush," I whispered to the boy as I approached, but he rolled away from me. He didn't want me near him. "Lila, please?"

"Yeah.."

She scooped the boy up the moment she got to him, wrapped him up in her arms and allowed Malachi to administer one shot or another. I felt so bad, as the boy started wailing. He looked absolutely terrified and I couldn't do anything to help him. He wasn't
allowing
me to help him, no matter how bad I wanted to.

I didn't like it when kids were upset.

I couldn't help but hope that Pixie was okay.

How long had the girl been gone? I wasn't sure. Hours. Days. Weeks. I'd lost track of time long before I'd considered it, and I was getting déjà vu. Like I'd had the same time problems before. Like I'd pondered the same points. I didn't know. It had to have been four days or so since I'd first been thrust into the invasion. At
least
five, considering the times I'd fallen asleep. Gone through natural changes of night.