Zocopalypse (Death Fields 1)

A week after my last shot, the day my father left, I hear a knock at the back door.

My mother is in the basement, organizing baby clothes. It’s better than sleeping or watching the endless loop of news. Whatever it took to calm her mind. What do I do? Our cell phones no longer work. All lines are being used to relay the emergency messages. Texting has ceased. The internet still works so I troll it constantly for new information and run on the treadmill. Suddenly stamina seems important.

I push the curtain back and peek outside. Liza waits on the back step and I open the door quickly, pulling her inside.

“Did anyone see you?” I asked, searching the yard.

“No,” she said. “No one is out. Not even the police.”

“Is it scary out there?”

She shrugs and we walk up to my room. Behind the closed, locked door she says, “It’s just weird. Quiet. Strange. I had to get out of my house. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

“Me too,” I agree. “Have you seen the others? Olivia or Matt?” Matt lives two doors down from Liza. She would have stopped there first.

She blinks and looks to the side. “Not Olivia. But yeah, I’ve seen Matt. He said they came and took Olivia and her family away.”

“Oh, my God, who?”

“People in those white suits, the kind that looks like an astronaut? They took them all away.”

“When was this?” I haven’t seen anything like this on my street but most of my neighbors are old. They followed the government’s directions and several had left for the shelters. Two families packed up their cars and left the city—to where? I have no clue.

“Right after the party.”

“Do you think they caught the virus?”

“I don’t know, but they came for Robert’s family too. I haven’t heard from any others.”

“Shit.”

“Exactly,” she says. “Do you think it was from the party?”

“I don’t know.” A tight, sick feeling spreads through my stomach.

”My mom is talking about running away. Getting in the car and going.”

“That sounds like a bad idea,” I told her but I’m lying. It sounded like the best idea. I think of it every night, plotting and planning our escape. But we can’t go yet. Not until my dad comes back.

“We have family near the beach. Maybe it’s not so bad there?”

“Maybe not.”

We sit across from one another on my purple and green comforter, the one I got for my birthday when I was thirteen. Liza and I have shared so many things together in this room. So many secrets and dreams.

I take her hand in mine and squeeze. We have one more thing to do. We both know it. I can tell by the look in her eye, the way she sniffs, trying not to lose it.

This is our chance. We have to say goodbye.

Chapter Twenty-Five

~Now~

Tucked under the hull of the boat, Wyatt sleeps and I wait. The Eaters have calmed and through the small windows I watch them slow, their intense anger passing for the time. They don’t leave, but their aggression wanes. It seems to flare when they come in contact with the uninfected.

None of those observations help us get off of this boat.

After I’m sure he won’t bleed out, I lock myself in the bathroom. It’s tiny, but the water is fresh. I duck my head under the showerhead letting the cold water wash away the dirt and grime. To clean off Wyatt’s dried blood that stuck against my palms like paint. Who knew when I’d have the chance to bathe again fully. To make it better, a small container of greenish-blue shampoo had been left in the shower and I lather up.