Copyright © 2025 by Kandace Ari

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact kandaceari@gmail.com.

The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

No portion of this work may be uploaded in any Artificial Intelligence (AI), Large Language Model (LLM), or similar system without the express permission of the author.

First edition 2025

ISBN: 978-1-0695235-1-8

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter One

Keep a steady pace, don’t push too hard until you have to. It was the mantra she’d been telling herself since the race started.

It was spring, bright and sunny with few clouds in the sky and a chill in the air. A perfect day for the championship relay. Her team worked hard to get here, and now she just had to bring them home. She gripped the metallic baton tightly in her hand. There was nothing in front of her but the finish line. Her countless nights of training had paid off. The skipped parties, the missed birthdays, all in the hope she would be good enough in this moment.

Now it was almost too easy, she thought between steady breaths. No need to think about anything else. Just get to the end. Just run.

She tuned out the sound of the crowd, instead listening to every breath she took and the sound of her feet as they lightly hit the pavement. But another sound was creeping up behind her, feet that weren’t her own pounding the track. And they were closing in fast. She rounded the bend, staying close to the inside. Stay focused, don’t panic.

The end was near. All she had to do was stay ahead. She could see the finish line coming up. It’s still too early to break for it, she thought, but the sounds of the footsteps behind her were getting louder. Now! I need to push now!

Clenching the baton tighter she broke her steady pace and sprinted hard, using the last of her reserves, the last of her strength, the last of her breath.

It wasn’t enough.

Kayla heard the crowd as they stood up, cheering and hollering. Just as she was about to cross the finish line—

Wait! No! No!

Out of the corner of her eye Kayla saw her pass the finish line first. And there was nothing she could do about it.

Coming to a hard stop after crossing the line, bending over with her hands on her knees, Kayla struggled to catch her breath. “I was so close.” Dropping the baton, she shook her head and looked up at the score board. A split-second difference between the two runners. “I can’t believe it,” she murmured as the other runners ran past her, marking their times. After the final horn sounded, her teammates surrounded her, shouting and cheering.

“Second! We clinched second!” Their smiles beamed at her. The judges hadn’t officially called it yet, but this last race was make-or-break.

She forced a smile. Damn it. She was so close.

“Hey, don’t sweat it, Kayla. It was a good race! I couldn’t have asked for a better team.” Kayla’s coach wrapped an arm around her while handing her a towel. She, too, was beaming with pride.

“Thanks, Coach.”

Kayla made her way around the track, on the same field that held the last football game of the year last fall. They won the playoffs and it was now the relay team’s turn to deliver a win. She was the anchor; it all hinged on her.

The stands weren’t as packed as they are for football games—or even basketball games, where the Ravens came in third in their season last month. But it didn’t matter. She knew her family were there watching, cheering her on. She took a moment and spotted them in the crowd. The medals were being handed out while people applauded.

Kayla smiled, moving to stand on the second podium to celebrate alongside her team, but all she could think about was a do-over. She wished she could have run the last lap over again; she would have done it differently. She would have timed her sprint more precisely and pushed harder. She would have put more distance between her and the girl from Central Valley High earlier on. But she knew there were some moments in life that couldn’t be replayed. This last relay would haunt her for years to come.

*

As Kayla got to the parking lot, she waved goodbye to some of her teammates and met up with her family. Her mother walked towards her in front of their sedan. She held out her arms. “We’re so proud of you.”

Her father was trying to put her fussy little brother Damien into his car seat when he poked his head up and said, “Way to end the season, kiddo!”

Her mother held her in a tight embrace. “You and your team did great. You should all be immensely proud.”

Kayla smiled even though she couldn’t shake the defeated feeling. Coming in second out of fifteen divisions was not bad. But still, this being her last season and all, she really wanted first place. “That girl from the other school, she came out of nowhere. I could have sworn I had a decent lead…”

“Oh, honey, it was a close one.” Her mother drew back from their hug and looked into her face. Her mother’s soft, green eyes always looked radiant against her brown skin. Kayla always wished she had her eyes. “You did great. Second place is an amazing feat out of so many teams. Not a lot of people can say that.”

“I know, Mom. I know.”

Her mother grabbed Kayla’s gym bag and popped open the trunk. Over her mother’s shoulder Kayla saw her older brother Marcus leaning against the open back car door, smiling. She walked towards him, and they both stood there looking at each other.

“After you,” he said, motioning towards the backseat.

Kayla looked at the spot beside Damien, who was playing with his plush stuffed doggy, placated from his earlier fussiness. “Why do I get the middle?”

“Cause it’s the winner’s seat,” Marcus said playfully.

Kayla felt the pang of defeat again. She was pretty sure winners get the window seat, but she decided not to push it. Instead, she narrowed her eyes at him and shuffled into the middle seat.

“What? You had the window on the way here!” he said.

“It’s fine. I’ll be the one squished between you two.”

Marcus laughed.

“Everyone got their seatbelts on?” Her father looked back at them and Marcus nodded. Kayla was looking at the silver medal hanging around her neck.

“Alrighty, let’s go!” he said, turning forward. Without missing a beat, he went on, “Excellent meet today, kiddo. What a race—400 meters! That was a long one! Wasn’t it, honey?”

“It sure was,” said her mom.

“Yeah, I thought it was never going to end,” Marcus said playfully. Kayla elbowed him.

“Thanks, guys.” She looked up at her father, their eyes meeting in the rearview mirror. His warm, brown eyes burst with pride as he stared back at her. The sting of the loss was starting to fade.

“Hey, is anyone hungry? We should go out and celebrate!” he said.

Her mother looked over at him. “I bought a roast for the occasion, darling. I was going to make that for dinner. Didn’t you see the rhubarb pie in the kitchen?”

“Ah yes, I remember now. That sounds delicious.” He reached for his wife’s hand, but she moved hers away. Ignoring her reluctance, he added, “And rhubarb pie, too—yum!”

“Yes, well, I thought it fitting for the day. Had I known everyone wanted to go out for dinner, I wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble—”

“No, no, you’re right. A home-cooked meal is better. No better place to celebrate than in our home.”

An awkward silence followed. Kayla knew her mother meant well. Roast beef was Kayla’s favorite, and no restaurant could make it quite like her mom’s. But there was more beneath the surface, an underlying tension that lingered despite the pleasantries. She could tell her brother felt it too; he cleared his throat and shifted uneasily in his seat.

Wanting to break the silence, her mother reached for the radio to turn it on. She clicked one of the buttons…

“Wait! Not that—” her dad started to protest.

Suddenly the radio blasted with a man’s voice. “Another body washed up ashore and they still haven’t found any of the missing—”

Her father quickly turned off the radio, letting out an awkward laugh. “That’s, uh, that’s something from my phone. This button is for the music station.” He jabbed at the dashboard, then gave his wife a quick, sheepish glance.

Another radio host’s voice came through the speakers. “Alrighty, welcome back! It’s another crisp spring evening. I hope you’re all doing well. We’re bringing you the best hits to get you ready for the summer that’s just around the corner. Here’s a throwback of a favorite that topped the charts a few summers back. Let’s see if you remember this tune.”

Her father stared ahead at the road, obviously trying to ignore her mother’s glaring look. Kayla sneaked a glance over at Marcus before looking back down at her medal. Marcus just stared out his window.

That’s not good, she thought. Dad’s even listening to it in the car. Her mother was furious, and there would probably be another fight tonight. Kayla hoped that whatever has been driving a wedge between her parents these past few months was over and that things were getting back to normal. Guess not.

Her parents didn’t like to argue in front of her and her brothers, but she wondered how bad it was when they weren’t around. She stared out the window, watching the streets blur past, her mind wandering off…

*

“If it’s not happening here, we shouldn’t be concerned, Trey,” said Michelle as she slouched on the loveseat sofa in their study.

“I know, but there’s something about it. Something that doesn’t add up,” said Trey, twirling around in his swivel chair.

“You always want there to be some kind of conspiracy. Just let the authorities handle it.”

“But that’s just it. Even the authorities are having a hard time—”

“How can you possibly know what’s going on with them?” asked Michelle.

“Because of Hermit.”

“Oh? And how does he know?”

“He has connections down there.”

Michelle rolled her eyes and got up from the couch to walk around the study.

“He does,” said Trey as he watched her pace the room. “He’s been following these stories since they started, and things are getting more suspicious each day. Still can’t believe only a few hundred people are tuning in.”

“Well, maybe it’s because he once tried to convince people that the government was poisoning our food supply with an opioid substance a few years back.”

Trey sighed. “Yes, fine, I’ll admit he doesn’t always get it right but—”

“But for some absurd reason you’re convinced he’s right about this?” Michelle raised an eyebrow at him.”

Trey shook his head. “More folks are going missing every day and no one has been found. The kidnapper hasn’t been found.”

Michelle walked over to the white oak shelf and took down a dusty snow globe her husband got for her during their honeymoon over a decade ago. “Sounds like another severe case of human trafficking. A crime of that magnitude, they’ll be caught soon.” She shook the snow globe gently and watched the sparkles dance around the Roman colosseum.

Trey shook his head. “There’s more going on. I’ve looked into it—there are police reports filed for the missing people, but the news outlets over there aren’t covering it. They’re running a media blackout.”

She put the snow globe back on the shelf and walked over to her husband, who was sitting in his desk chair, headphones still plugged into his laptop. “You know that’s not unusual for some countries.”

“Oh please. This is unprecedented, even for them. Their own people are going missing in huge numbers, and their local news stations aren’t reporting it?”

She hesitated. “Perhaps they don’t want to spread fear or panic.”

It was Trey’s turn to roll his eyes. “There’s a possible serial killer on the loose and they don’t want to warn their community? A crime of that magnitude…” he said, echoing his wife’s earlier words. “They should want their people to know, so they can stay vigilant and alert.”

She folded her arms tightly across her chest, her voice low and strained. “Why can’t you just let this go?”

“Why keep it a secret?” Trey continued, talking more to himself than to his wife now. “Why hide it from the very people that are being preyed upon?”

Reaching for her now-cooled cup of tea, Michelle sat back down on the couch. “Fine, I’ll indulge you and play along.”

“You used to like playing along,” he said.

She smirked and continued, “Maybe they’re doing it because they do know who it is, but it’s someone high-profile, or… high ranking. They’re trying to keep their identity a secret. A politician, maybe. Or someone from a royal family.”

Trey leaned back in his swivel chair and smirked at her.

She glared back at him, “What’s so funny?”

“Oh nothing. It’s just… that’s the same theory Hermit has, that’s all. Frankly though it’s not one I agree with.” He shuffled through the papers on his desk, looking at the notes beside him. “No, that many people going missing in such a short amount of time… it has to be more than one person. It must be a group, maybe even a coalition—”

Michelle groaned. “Hun, it’s on the other side of the world in Africa. Why are you so obsessed?”

“Cause they’re hiding something over there and I want to know what!”

“Another mystery for you to solve then, is it?”

“Yes, I guess so.”

*

Jolted back to the present, Kayla realized the quiet half-hour drive outside the city had passed faster than she expected. They pulled up onto the gravel driveway of their colonial-style home in the suburbs. It had always been a quiet neighborhood. Their family had moved here when she was five, and it was the only home she knew, hardly remembering the one she was born in.

According to her mother, that first place was a tiny condo badly in need of repair—no way appropriate for two toddlers. Her father described it as a dive, but a good starter home. After her mother’s promotion and her father’s major break with a bestseller, they were able to upgrade their living situation.

As they pulled in, their neighbor Frank waved as he mowed his lawn. His wife, Melissa, often jogged with Kayla’s mother on the weekends. A few blocks away was the park where Kayla’s father used to take her when she was little—and where, years later, she and her friends had tried pot for the first time after sneaking out during her freshman year.

Kayla slammed the side door shut and followed her brother inside, looking back to see her parents quietly talking to each other by the car as they unbuckled Damien from his car seat. She couldn’t hear them, but she could tell they were arguing about something. Her mother was waving her hands the way she always did when she was upset. Distracted, Kayla bumped into her brother, who was standing at the foot of the red oak staircase.

“It’s that Hermit guy. He doesn’t know when to shut up,” Marcus said before heading upstairs.

“What?” The name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

“The crazy guy with the podcast. That’s what got Mom all riled up. Dad can’t stop listening to him.”

“Oh, is that all?” Her father listening to crime podcasts was nothing new. He used them as inspiration for his stories. “What’s the big deal then? What’s that Hermit guy been saying?”

“Don’t know. Can’t actually listen to him without a subscription, and I don’t have Dad’s password.”

They stopped outside Marcus’s room. “I’ve tried listening in when Dad’s watching, but he just turns it off and changes the subject as soon as he sees me,” Marcus said. He went into a rough imitation of their dad’s voice. “Hey, kiddo. Who’s your pick to win this year’s March Madness?”

Marcus shook his head. “As if he even watches those games. Lately, he’s been using headphones. Whatever it is that he’s been going on about, he doesn’t want us to know about it.”

That’s odd, Kayla thought. Dad isn’t usually so cagey when it comes to crime shows. In fact, he usually loves it when her and her brother watch along with him. They would all get into spirited debates over theories and possibilities. “It must be something really sick and morbid for it to have Mom so upset.”

“How much sicker can it get? The last murder mystery was about a beheading. Mom didn’t seem to mind that.”

“Oh. Yeah. Nearly forgot about that one. To be fair, that happened during the Middle Ages. He was guillotined for treason or conspiracy or whatever,” said Kayla, trying to be logical about her dad’s behavior.

“For conspiracy to commit treason,” Marcus corrected. “And still, the images of the reenactment made mom squirm, but she let us watch it anyway.” They dropped their voices, talking more quietly as their parents came inside. They were no longer arguing but the way their father stomped off to his study, it was obvious things weren’t resolved. Their mother was still furious over the radio outburst, and their father probably didn’t have a good enough excuse as for why he had been listening to it in the car—or why he was still listening to it at all.

“I looked him up,” Marcus continued. “Hermit’s a crime story expert.” He framed the word in air quotes. “And apparently he’s been going on about cold cases and unsolved mysteries from around the world.”

“Kayla, come back down and get your gym bag!” her mother called up with an edge in her voice that Kayla knew wasn’t meant for her.

Shit, she forgot about her bag. “Coming!”

Before she headed back downstairs, Marcus said, “We need to find out what the heck they’ve been fighting about.”

Kayla nodded. “Agreed.”

Chapter Two

Kayla tossed her gym bag onto the carpet next to her bean bag chair. Her room was a bit of a mess—she’d rushed out that morning to make it for team warm-ups before the race. She was so pumped to go.

Now, with her legs aching, and her stomach rumbling, she was tired and just wanted to curl up in her bed with some junk food, but it was barely six o’clock, and her mother was probably just starting dinner.

She looked lazily over at her shelf with the track trophies and ribbons, a collection spanning from elementary school through high school. She made a mental note to make some space for her college ones later.

Taking the silver medal off her neck, she looked down at it. It’s the wrong color, she thought bitterly.

She chucked it on the shelf and flopped onto her bed, undoing the tie from her ponytail to let her black curls flow around her face.

Highschool track was over. It was an end to an era—and she could hardly believe it.

Kayla checked her phone and responded to the flood of text messages congratulating her. The group chat with all her teammates was still going strong. Apparently, there was an upcoming party this weekend to celebrate.

Kayla sighed and texted that she’d be there, and that she would bring the peach vodka. I have to remember to ask Marcus to make a run to the liquor store and get it for me.

Track runners from the other teams and schools would be there too, and already, she was dreading everyone talking about how close the race was.

I was the anchor. I had the lead. The finishing line was right there!

She groaned, flopping back onto her bed. She didn’t want to relive it.

*

Kayla headed downstairs to help her mother prepare their celebratory dinner.

“So that’s it! Track is done and you’re almost done high school. I swear it was just yesterday that you started kindergarten—and now you’re graduating in a couple of months!”

Kayla caught her mother’s eyes tearing up and doubted they had anything to do with the onions she was dicing.

Her mother looked over at her. “My little girl is growing up!”

“Mom, stop.” It was no use, though. Her mother began reminiscing about Kayla’s pre-kindergarten days. Kayla was happy to see that her mother was in a better mood than she was earlier, and this wasn’t the first time she gushed about her senior year. Her mother was almost unbearable when Kayla got her acceptance letter from Chicago State College with a full-ride track and field scholarship. Needless to say, her mother couldn’t have been prouder.

“How’s dinner coming along?” her father asked, popping his head into the kitchen from the living room. “Need any help?”

“We’re fine, dear,” her mom said. “Should be done soon.”

With her mother’s back turned, Kayla gave her dad the she’s-at-it-again look. He betrayed Kayla instantly. “Are you going on about her track meet win again?” he asked.

“What? No! We were just talking about how she’s graduating, heading off to college, and moving out! Another kid off to college, Trey. Where does the time go?”

“Well, we still have one more left,” he said playfully. “He’s around here somewhere, I’m sure.”

Her mother smiled as he continued. “Now that I think of it… I haven’t seen him around.”

“Oh, you better know where he is,” said her mother. “You have one job this evening, babe.”

Her dad quickly popped his head inside the living room. “Ah, found him. He’s playing a very precarious game of skyscraper with three—no, four blocks!”

A crashing sound and hysterical giggle was heard. “It was a masterful design. He’s clearly destined to be an architect when he grows up. Will probably build the next grand cathedral.”

Kayla snickered over her dad’s ridiculousness. Despite what her parents said, she didn’t think her little brother was planned; he was a surprise for them all. She liked seeing how playful her parents could get around him. It reminded her of her childhood.

“By the way,” her father continued, moving closer to her mother as she worked at the cream-colored granite counter, “just because they go off to college, it doesn’t mean they’re gone for good. For some absurd reason they come back.”

Kayla smiled. Her brother Marcus had just finished finals and had come back for the summer break.

“Where is Marcus?” asked her mom.

“Upstairs playing his old video games.” Her father sighed. “Let me tell ya, college kids are still kids. But then again, I remember when you and I met—we couldn’t have been more immature back then.”

“Oh, do tell more,” Kayla teased.

“No, no—I studied. It was your father who took me out and got us into shenanigans. I knew he was trouble from the start.”

“But you went out with me anyways.”

“Only because I lost a bet!” she said jokingly. “I was only supposed to go out with you that one night!”

“Ah, but you couldn’t resist my charm.” A half-hearted smirk crossed his face, making Kayla stifle a laugh. She swore there was no one geekier than her father.

“You wanna know what we did that night, Kayla?”

“Gosh, do I wanna know what you guys did that night?” She eyed both of them cautiously. “Are you sure this is something I want to hear?” And not a story that I’ve heard countless times already? A thought she kept to herself, wanting to prolong the joyful moment.

“We solved murder mysteries together!” her father exclaimed.

Her mother laughed.

“What?” Kayla was not expecting that. “I thought you guys just went out to a sports bar.”

Her mother put the herbs and spices back into the cupboard. “Before the sports bar, he took me over to the forensic sciences building after hours and we went through mock case files. We had to try and guess the M.O. with the information and pictures provided. Some of them were quite grotesque.” She wrinkled her nose at the memory. “Most of the night was spent solving the cases. We even made a game of it. Whoever guessed wrong had to, well—.”

“Take a shot of tequila!” her father finished. Emphasizing the word in a bad Hispanic accent.

Kayla realized why this was the first time she was hearing this part of the story. It showed her mom in a not-so-perfect light. It was hard for her to imagine her mother taking shots.

Her mother covered her face. “It was the most bizarre first date I had ever been on. Eventually we were getting too drunk and too loud. The security guard heard us and we had to—”

“Wait—wasn’t it just the janitor?”

“Oh, I don’t remember,” her mother laughed. “We ended up climbing out of a window and sprinting past our dorms, all the way to the sports bar downtown.”

“You didn’t get caught?” Kayla eyed her mother in a scolding way, making her blush.

“No, but I still remember hearing sirens that I swear were for us…”

“It was just a coincidence,” her father said with a chuckle. “No way they would have actually called the police on us. Mind you, the next day there was a notice for all the students and faculty, reminding them that campus buildings were off limits and that it was against the rules to enter them after hours.”

Both her parents burst out laughing. Kayla adored seeing them this happy.

“He had a flashlight and everything!” her mother continued.

“Yes, I brought the flashlight and the booze. I was prepared. I even brought chips!”

“But some of those pictures were so horrifying, I didn’t have an appetite!”

“Oh, yes you did. After a few shots you were digging in! She solved the harder ones you know. Your mother. Oh man, I remember I ended up sloshed and knocked something over. What was it again?”

Her mother closed her eyes, trying to remember. “Was it a test tube? Or a mirror that came with one of the evidence files? Some kind of glass shattered and broke.”

“Yeah… right, right.”

“Sounds like a wild night,” said Kayla. She looked at both her parents. She didn’t realize they were such troublemakers in their youth.

“Man, I’ll never forget it.” Her father leaned against the counter and looked at her mother lovingly. “You… looking at the picture of the cadaver and figuring out it was a spear instead of a knife, all while stuffing your beautiful face with chips.”

Her mother laughed so hard she snorted.

“I swear, Kayla,” said her father, still looking admirably at her mother. “In that moment, I knew.”

“Ew… you looked at dead bodies!?” Kayla cried out.

“It was for forensic pathology students! They had pictures—”

“Alright, honey, that’s enough,” her mother said, still giggling. “We have to finish dinner.”

“Okay, okay!” Her father went back into the living room, where the sounds of a laughing two-year-old and an old wind-up toy could be heard.

“So, what other sick and twisted things did you guys do?” asked Kayla accusingly. “How many other buildings did you illegally break into?”

Her mother raised her hands. “That was the only time, I swear!”

“You sure? Didn’t Dad once mention that you guys snuck into strip clubs downtown…?”

Her mother looked at her wide-eyed. “Absolutely not! I have no idea what he’s referring to. We attended our courses, handed in our papers, and got high GPAs.”

Kayla nodded. “Right, and what was your GPA again?”

Her mother hit her playfully with a dish towel. “Will you just finish the vegetables?”

Smirking, Kayla got back to steaming the carrots and asparagus while her mother checked the temperature of the roast. As the oven opened, the savory smell of garlic, thyme, and rosemary wafted out.

She watched as her mother lifted the roast out from the oven and gently wrapped it in aluminum foil before putting the pan with the bread rolls in to warm up. Kayla knew she would miss her mother’s cooking the most when she left for college. She heard the student diet was either mac and cheese or ramen noodles.

Kayla stirred the simmering gravy while her mother added caramelized onions to it. I’ll definitely have to make frequent trips home for a good meal, she thought.

Will she make memories like her parents did when they were young? Right after college, her parents had Marcus and two years later they had her. But after doing the math herself, Kayla deduced it was actually during their final year of college that they had Marcus. She imagined her mother’s GPA must have suffered a bit, yet she still found a way to become an attorney.

Kayla didn’t fancy the idea of having kids right after college. No, she thought, I’ll give myself a few more years before getting married, settling down, and starting a family. There’s no rush. I have all the time in the world.

She was excited for college. She was going to the same one as Marcus.

Kayla would never say it out loud, but she had missed him after he left. High school hadn’t been quite the same without dodging his ninja attacks in the hallways between periods.

“Mama, Lala, look!”

Kayla and her mother turned to see Damien venturing into the kitchen, taking steady steps while holding up his colorful toy train.

“Are you playing with your train?” her mother asked, walking over to him. “What sound does a train make?”

Her brother just looked up at her and giggled.

“Choo! Choo!” said her mother, making the motion of a train conductor before lifting him up and taking him back to the living room.

Kayla flipped the roast potatoes. She was starting to get hungry now. She snuck a bite.

At that moment, Marcus walked into the kitchen. “I’m telling mom.”

Kayla jumped, and nearly screamed. “Don’t do that!” she said, looking at Marcus as he took a seat at the kitchen island. “Why you gotta sneak up on me like that?”

Marcus laughed. “Is it almost ready? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, the roast is just resting. It’ll be done soon.”

“Why is the beef resting when it’s already dead?”

“Ha. Ha,” said Kayla sarcastically. She heard that joke too many times.

Marcus made his way to the potatoes to steal a couple of bites of his own.

As Kayla went to plate the vegetables, Marcus said, “Did you burn the carrots again?”

“I’m steaming them. Can’t burn them if you steam them,” Kayla explained.

“You’ll find a way,” he countered in a haughty accent and with an airy wave of his hand.

“Look, they’re perfect. See?” She chucked one of the carrots across the kitchen at his head, but he was too quick, ducking right in time and going for a piece of potato to chuck back at her.

Kayla squealed as it hit her. She saw Marcus going for another piece, so she picked up the lid from the pot of gravy and used it as a shield.

“What is going on!? That’s enough you two,” their mother said as she walked back into the kitchen. “Pick up the food from the floor. No—don’t eat it!”

Kayla laughed as her brother popped the dropped carrot in his mouth. “What? Five-second rule!” he said with his mouth full.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” Her mother walked over to the cupboards and drawer, grabbing plates and cutlery.

“Here, take these and go set the table.” She handed the pile over to Marcus. “Go on now… What am I going to do with you two?”

Soon you won’t have to worry, Kayla thought as she went over to the counter to help toss the salad. Because come next fall, her and Marcus won’t be here for their pre-dinner brawls.

Chapter Three

As they gathered around the dinner table, Kayla thought it was the perfect moment to sneak some wine into her cup, hoping her mother wouldn’t notice. Placing the wine bottle back and quickly taking a seat, she looked up and saw that her mom not only spotted it but moved the cup to the other side of the table. Without a word, her mother poured the contents of the cup into her own wine glass. Then she handed Kayla a can of soda with a disapproving look.

Across the table, her brother shot her a nice try smirk. Kayla stuck her tongue out at him in response.

Their father didn’t notice a thing—he was already lost in his own thoughts. If only Mom were that easily distracted, Kayla thought.

The garden salad and warm bread rolls were barely passed around when her father had ventured once again into his musings and imaginations. Kayla wondered what he was thinking about, then remembered what her brother told her.

She looked at her mother, who was watching him now too, no longer amused.

“Honey, would you like a bread roll?” her mother asked.

“Huh? Oh, no thanks—already have one.” Her father held it up as if he needed to prove it.

What was the big deal? It wasn’t unusual for her father to be interested in crime mysteries. He liked to theorize about them. He’d been like that ever since she could remember. So why was Mom suddenly bothered by it now? What was it about this podcast that had her so uncomfortable?

Damien was at the other side of the table, slapping and whacking away at the tray on his highchair, making incoherent sounds while eating bits of bread, carrots, and beef.

“Okay, so what’s the deal with the missing people?” her brother asked abruptly.

Kayla gaped at him. His boldness and lack of filter was astonishing.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” her mother said quickly. “It’s happening in another country, and the authorities there are handling it.”

Their father scoffed.

“Dad?” Her brother pried for more.

Kayla stayed silent, figuring she would let her brother take the reins on this.

Her father shuffled in his seat. “No, no, your mother’s right. It’s nothing that concerns us right now.” Kayla found it interesting her father added right now. She looked over at her mother and could tell that she had caught the little add-on, too.

“We know it’s the story that guy Hermit has been talking about,” Marcus continued.

Kayla kept her eyes down and cut another slice of beef. What is he saying we for?

Their father took a bite of his roast beef. “It’s a crime news podcast. Talks about cases all over the world. Both solved and unsolved ones. It’s actually quite popular.”

“Oh, please. He’s nothing but a grifter,” their mother added.

“And he’s talking about people going missing, right? Marcus continued, plowing past their mother’s comment. “Where is it happening?” He looked at their dad, almost daring him to talk about it.

“It’s happening mostly in South Africa, near Zimbabwe, and it’s become newsworthy because the number of people missing has been steadily increasing,” said their father.

“Just because Hermit is talking about it doesn’t make it newsworthy,” said their mom. “No one else is as fixated on it as you two are.”

Her father shook his head. “His viewership has grown in the last couple weeks. He has two million subscribers now and over a million views on that podcast episode. People are interested.”

Their mother added more salad to Kayla’s plate before continuing, “Yes, it’s a story of a large number of people being reported missing, with little to no leads to the perpetrators—yet,” she said, using a little add-on of her own.

Kayla side-eyed her mom. She would have preferred another bread roll instead.

“But there’ve been new developments,” their father said excitedly. “They’re now looking into these mass homicides that have begun—”

Exasperated, their mom cried out, “They’re not happening in the same country. Those happened all the way over in Libya. They’re unrelated cases!”

“You can’t know that for certain! The cases are happening concurrently!”

Kayla watched her parent’s tempers start to rise. She shot Marcus a look-what-you-started glare.

Marcus, however, wasn’t deterred. “So, they found them then? The missing people, they’ve been murdered? Like, there’s some crazy serial killer or something on the loose?”

“Not exactly… the missing kids still have not been found—”

“Honey, please,” their mother said, setting her knife and fork down on her plate with a clang. “This really isn’t appropriate to discuss at the dinner table.”

“Mom, we want to know,” said Marcus, giving Kayla a sideways glance. “We’re not babies anymore.”

They all looked at Damien, who was happily slapping away at his tray with his kiddie fork, keeping time to the rhythmic chant of “Na, na, na, na.”

Mom raised an eyebrow at Marcus.

“Mom, he won’t understand any of it!” Marcus said incredulously.

Their mother sighed. “Fine. But be sparse on the gruesome details, please.” She gave a sharp look to their dad.

“What? There’s gross details?” said Kayla, no longer able to hide her interest.

“Well,” their father continued, “the manner of their deaths has been perplexing law enforcement.”

“Why?” Kayla and Marcus said in unison.

Their mother reached for a sip of her merlot.

“The bodies are being discovered nearly drained of all their blood,” said their dad.

Kayla paused her chewing. Something about that detail felt familiar, like she had heard it somewhere before.

“…and as we established earlier,” their mother chimed in, “these bodies are not the missing kids. They were older individuals, killed in another country.”

Kayla knew what her mother was trying to say since she wasn’t being very subtle: They’re not related, so don’t try to connect them.

“Wait, drained of their blood!? Those are the killings that have been trending online, Kayla!” exclaimed Marcus.

“Hashtag Hemorobbin?” Of course! Kayla felt like an idiot. There were posts on her social media feed of people talking about unsolved murders happening somewhere.

She remembered the hashtag and some headlines that were trending a few months back. She never paid much attention to them except for the ones that were reposted by her friends or Marcus.

Some of the videos were brief and short. There were videos of folks talking about glowing eyes and spooky noises in the night mixed in with videos of people bragging about how strong they were, like they suddenly gained super strength. She never thought much of it, as most social media videos were filled with gimmicks and over-edited, over-filtered, and over-dramatic. Everything posted was for views and clicks, so she never took them seriously.

“I’ve even reposted a few,” said Marcus, “like of that one girl who said she thought she saw a shiny-eyed monster or something,” said Marcus.

“Oh, I did see that one!” said Kayla.

“Yes, I guess it would make for quite the buzz online. But Hemorobbin? Is that really what they’re calling it?” Her dad seemed shocked.

Kayla nodded while finishing a mouthful of asparagus. Now that she thought about it, none of the posts mentioned anything about missing children. She was starting to agree with her mother—it did seem unlikely the two cases were connected, especially since those weren’t the bodies being found.

“How could I not have known?” their father said, shaking his head. “Hermit spoke about the bloodless bodies turning up, but he didn’t say anything about the popularity of these crimes online.”

“Well, that’s because he wants you to get all the information from him only. That’s how grifters grift,” their mother said.

“Okay, so let me get this straight,” said Marcus. “Someone is kidnapping a bunch of people and just bleeding them out?”

“There must be another crime scene then, right?” added Kayla, reaching for her soda. “One where all the blood would be?”

“Exactly. They gotta be doing this somewhere!” said Marcus.

Their father nodded. “You would think so, but they can’t find the primary locations where these crimes took place. But I agree, that much blood has to go somewhere. And the drained bodies keep turning up at various locations. There have been over a hundred casualties so far.”

Their mom reached for another sip of wine and muttered, “that is a lot,” under her breath.

“Maybe the murderers are using the medieval practice of bloodletting,” their dad said with a chuckle. “It would be very meticulous of them.”

Their mother frowned at him.

“What’s bloodletting?” asked Kayla.

“I’m only joking. It’s an old medical technique. The bodies were discovered with small cuts or incisions near major arteries and veins—or at least that’s what the police reports say. It’s quite an unusual M.O. However…”

Their dad looked at their mother and hesitated for a moment before continuing, “according to Hermit, the details of the police reports have been extremely vague. For instance, no pictures of the bodies or their wounds have been provided. And it’s rumored that the coroners involved are forbidden to speak to the media about any of it.”

“Well that’s sus,” said Kayla.

Her father nodded. “It really ought to be a bigger news story. Its mind boggling to me that all the major news networks aren’t covering it fully. They should be dedicating most of their airtime to it. How can it not be global news, especially with virulent videos about it going around online?”

“Viral,” Kayla and Marcus corrected in unison.

“Because it’s not a global issue, darling,” said their mother as she passed around slices of rhubarb pie. “Here pass me those dirty dishes and I’ll take them out.” She stacked the plates before continuing, “it’s a horrific crime happening in a very volatile part of the world and it’s a mystery that should and will be solved eventually. It’s no different than any other gruesome crime that happens in other areas of the world.”

“This many people… and drained of their blood, Mom?” said Marcus. “That’s pretty messed up.”

“Yes, well, there are some pretty messed up people in this world. Now who’s going to volunteer to wash the dishes?” And with that their mother pushed her chair back, picked up her pie plate, and went to the kitchen. Kayla and Marcus both looked at each other. While digging into his slice her father says, “well one of you guys has to do it.” Marcus rolled his eyes and sauntered into the kitchen.

*

That night, as Kayla lay in bed, the dinner conversation was still swirling around in her head.

Hemorobbin.

She opened her phone and checked the trending feeds. It wasn’t at the top anymore, but it was still there. This time, instead of just scrolling by, she started clicking on posts.

The first post was of a video her brother reposted a few weeks back—a brief clip of a woman. The video caption said she found a body on the beach in the middle of the night and claimed she also saw someone with glowing eyes in the distance—and then, in the next moment, they were gone.

Kayla couldn’t help but think it sounded a little crazy. She skimmed through the comments, lots of them sympathetic, suggesting the shock of discovering of a dead body must have been so traumatizing it caused her to imagine things.

Kayla nodded her head in agreement before liking one of the comments and moving on.

There were other videos—people pleading for help to find their missing loved ones. They were hard to watch.

So that’s what they’re doing, Kayla thought. They’re trying to raise awareness around what is happening. It makes sense, that’s what social media is for.

Kayla was glad these posts were trending. In this world, officials tended to pay more attention—and act faster—when the whole world was watching. They didn’t want to be criticized for being silent, even if being silent was all they wanted to be. Or all they had time to be, since social media airs the problems of millions, it could become tedious for authorities to care about them all.

So, these people are screaming and shouting to try and get the whole world to notice. They’re letting people know that their plight isn’t just a lowly grievance to be ignored. Something is deeply wrong in their world, and they are trying to get authorities—someone, anyone—to listen. And to care.

Another video showed a man filming himself in his car. He was angry.

“They are doing nothing. The government and police. They know what is happening. They are doing nothing to stop it from happening.”

Stop what from happening?

Kayla recalled her father saying that law enforcement was confused. But that must mean they were trying to help, right?

She scrolled through more videos, watching each one she passed. She went through the comments on every post. Most of them were of people sending their thoughts and prayers. Some were hateful trolls, leaving harsher sentiments. There was one comment that Kayla was surprised to see had over a thousand likes: “Whatever bullshit is going on, fix it yourselves and keep it over there. Don’t even think about bringing that shit here. Good luck.” Wow. Some people can be so cruel. Why even comment at all if you don’t care? She shook her head and moved on.

There was one woman who looked to be in her early twenties. A Nigerian woman with only slightly darker skin than Kayla’s. “They took my sister. I don’t know who, but they have her. I’m going to find whoever it is who’s doing this. I hope whoever that is, is watching because I will. I’m going to find you. And to my sister Naomi—hang on, I will come for you.”

She held up a picture. It was of a young teenage girl smiling alongside the woman speaking. “Please keep an eye out for her.”

The video ended and Kayla realized she was tearing up. There was something about this woman, her boldness in speaking out to her sister’s captors, her resolve and determination to find her. She’s just asking for help. They all are.

Kayla wiped the tears from her eyes and put her phone down. She couldn’t watch anymore. She didn’t realize how emotional these stories were. How could anyone stomach to watch these all the time?

She glanced at her clock. After midnight already? She sighed and snuggled under the covers to try and sleep. But she couldn’t stop thinking about the woman searching for her sister. She hoped she found her.

Tossing and turning all night, Kayla had nightmares of creatures with glowing red eyes and sharp teeth, holding medieval surgical tools for their bloodletting rituals. She was tied to a stone slab unable to move while the creatures inched closer and closer. She struggled against the restraints, but it was no use. As soon as one of their knives slit into her skin, she jolted awake in a cold sweat. Not being able to go back to sleep, she got out of bed and tiptoed to her brother’s room.

“Marcus?” she whispered as she knocked softly, opening his door. She heard him snoring and started to close the door before hearing her name.

“Kayla?”

“Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. Just seeing if you were up, I guess.” Kayla felt silly. Running to her brother’s room after having a nightmare was something she hadn’t done since she was ten.

He checked the time on his phone and chuckled. “I’m up now. What’s up?” He flicked his nightstand lamp on.

Kayla plopped down on the edge of his bed. “Well, we got our answers today, huh? We now know why Mom and Dad have been fighting so much.”

“Yeah, crazy to think it was because of those Hemorobbin posts. Hermit must be going through those posts with a fine-toothed comb.”

Kayla wondered if her father would start doing the same. “It’s kinda sad, don’t you think? All those people crying out for help?”

Her brother sat up and sighed. “Yeah, I guess, but like Mom said, those crimes are happening on the other side of the world. They’re not happening over here.”

Kayla shrugged. “What if they do? What if that’s why Dad is worried?”

He chuckled again. “Pretty sure we have better law enforcement for that kind of stuff.”

Kayla raised a brow at him. “What? Crime doesn’t happen here in Illinois?”

“You know what I mean. We just have better security. The crazy shit that we hear happening in other parts of the world… it just doesn’t happen here, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” Kayla picked at a loose thread in his blanket. “Still, I saw one where a woman was looking for her sister…” She shook her head. “Could you imagine. You know, if something were to happen…”

“Nothing bad is going to happen.” He sighed again. “This must be why Mom didn’t want Dad talking about it. Kayla, look at me. I won’t let anything happen to you. Ever.”

“I know. Same goes for you, too.”

“Well, there you go. Can I go back to sleep now?”

Kayla smiled and hugged him. “Yeah, goodnight, bro.”

“Goodnight.”

Chapter Four

The rest of the week passed without Hemorobbin being mentioned again, though Kayla kept seeing posts pop up on her social media feed. Her brother had been reposting more often lately, and it looked like her late-night search messed with her algorithm because she was seeing updates from people she wasn’t even following.

It annoyed her. She didn’t want to see their pleas anymore. There wasn’t much she could do anyway.

She wondered if her father felt the same way. He had stopped bringing it up at dinner, and her parents were getting along better now— something that should have been a relief. And it was, at first.

But Kayla noticed her father spending more time in his study, even outside of his normal work hours. He was becoming more isolated to the point that she mostly only saw him in the mornings as he wished her a good day at school, all cheerful and smiling but the bags and shadows under his eyes told a different story.

Sometimes she would catch him zoning out, his eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. Her mother hadn’t spoken on the topic, which should have been reassuring. But it wasn’t.

Kayla could tell her father wasn’t done with any of it. Most of his days were now spent scouring the internet, taking notes, and listening to not just Hermit’s podcast but other podcasts that were created to discuss Hermit’s findings.

These were the things he usually did when researching for his novel, but he wasn’t working on his next bestseller. He was working on his new obsession. And her mother’s sudden apathy towards it told Kayla her mother knew it, too, but had given up trying to get through to him.

Kayla didn’t want to think about it anymore. She had final exams that she needed to prepare for. Despite already having been accepted—to her first college choice no less!— she still had to maintain her GPA to keep her spot. She envied Marcus. His finals were done and now he got to enjoy the summer break, playing video games and hanging out with his old buddies from high school.

Kayla had been picking his brain about what college life was like. She shook her head, remembering the conversation they’d had recently.

“How can you guys’ party on Thursday or any day during the week!?”

“It’s called Thirsty Thursdays. It’s to prep you for TGIF. Then you party all weekend.”

“Even on Sunday?”

“Of course, that’s how you get rid of the hangover from Saturday! You’ll learn all about it when we get there.”

“You guys are absolutely insane!”

How did he and his friends have any time to attend courses and study? she wondered. It scared her in an exciting way. He made college sound like so much fun. But for now, she had to studiously memorize what she needed to for her exams. The first of which was today.

Kayla mentally went over her notes, mumbling the answers to herself as she got ready for school.

“Alright, Christopher Columbus was an explorer, Leonardo da Vinci was an artist who painted the Mona Lisa.”

She looked in the mirror and switched out her purple t-shirt for a maroon colored one.

“He was also an engineer who challenged old ideas and helped create new ones. What else?” She tugged on her faded blue jeans.

“The French Revolution started in 1789 and the Battle of Castillon was in 1463—no, wait that’s not right, it was 1453,” she corrected.

She finished applying her mascara and was now dabbing on some tinted lip balm as she continued, “Charles Darwin developed the theory of evolution through natural selection. And… oh what the heck did Eli Whitney do again?”

She shook her head. Whatever. She had to get a move on. Her friend Stacy would be here any minute to give her a ride to school.

Kayla grabbed her schoolbag and headed for the stairs. As she reached the bottom, she hesitated, looking around. The house felt oddly empty and isolated.

Her brother would still be sleeping, and her mother would have already headed out for work, but usually her father would be downstairs completing the crossword from the daily newspaper, with a cup of coffee while the television played morning cartoons for Damien. The eerily quiet morning was unsettling.

“Dad?”

She went to his study. The door was ajar. She knocked but there was no answer. She hesitated, as she usually didn’t enter the study. It was her father’s workspace. The place he went to when he needed time alone. She slowly pushed the door open.

“Lala!” Her little brother was in a square playpen, playing with his toys while her father was lying on the couch snoring away.

She heard a honk from a car outside.

“Shit.”

Kayla took out her phone and texted, Be out in like 5 mins. Sorry!

She walked over to Damien. The room was a mess. Books were tossed on the floor, shelves were disorganized, and as she passed her father’s desk, she saw more papers strewn about. She glanced at a paper that had notes scribbled on it. It looked as if her dad was keeping up with the viral online videos.

Kayla sighed, wishing she and Marcus never brought it up at dinner.

Shuffling through the papers, she saw a note that said:

Group of cannibalistic serial killers? Blood rituals? Government cover-up?

She wrinkled her nose in disgust. Her dad really was obsessed. And now her and Marcus gave him one more thing to fixate over: the viral posts.

She wondered how her dad was watching them without an account. No wonder her mother had given up.

She walked over to the playpen. “Hey little, bro.”

“Hi” he said, beaming a smile at her while still clutching his fluffy stuffed doggy.

“Did you have breaky yet? Did you have something to eat?” she said, miming food going into her mouth.

He giggled and shook his head no.

Kayla sighed. Going over to her father, she gently shook him. It was then she noticed he was wearing the same clothes as the day before. He must’ve been in his study all night. She shook him harder.

“What!? Oh, Kayla, hi. I must have dozed off.”

“Yeah, Damien needs breakfast, and I have to go.”

“Right, right, have a good day at school, kiddo,” he said as he got up, wiping away drool from his mouth.

Kayla didn’t say anything before walking out. He was clearly up all night thinking about freaking cannibals, and she was starting to understand her mother’s frustration.

*

The bell rang, signaling the end to her history exam.

“Those last few questions were awful, weren’t they?” said Stacy as they headed to their lockers. “How’d you do?”

Kayla shrugged. “Definitely didn’t ace it, but I think I did okay. What are you looking at?” She noticed Stacy was staring at something on her phone.

“Another video just dropped. You know the ones about the bloodless bodies?”

“Oh, I know,” said Kayla disinterested.

Shutting their lockers closed they headed to their next period. As they walked down the hall, Kayla noticed the usual chatter of the other students wasn’t as loud. The overhead announcements about random upcoming events were absent, too. People were glued to their phones.

As she walked past people, Kayla overheard familiar videos being played. But then there was one that mentioned something about scattered limbs.

Stacy looked over at her, horrified.

“Well, that’s new,” said Kayla.

“Yeah, it’s getting worse. Jessica said she caught the gym teacher listening to a video on his phone before P.E. the other day. Isn’t that crazy? Even the teachers are watching them!”

Kayla couldn’t escape these stories at home or at school. They kept spreading. They were becoming the main topic of conversations.

They turned the corner and entered a classroom. She took a seat at her desk, waiting for class to start and overheard some of the jocks behind her talking.

“Did you see the one that said the man ran off like he was Flash or something?”

“They’ve been watching too many superhero movies.”

“They’re in Africa, bro. He probably just saw a cheetah.”

They all laughed.

The teacher walked into the classroom. “Alright, class, settle down, take your seats. We’re going to spend this period reviewing for the exam, but of course you guys have already been studying for it, right?”

Kayla’s friend Stacy looked over at her mouthing the word nope.

“Right, of course you have,” their teacher continued lazily. “We’ll start with—Brad, I haven’t started yet and you already have a question.”

“Yeah, I was wondering if you know anything about the disappearances and murders happening down under?”

There were snickers and murmurs in the class. Kayla groaned internally.

“Well, ‘down under’ means Australia. I assume you’re speaking about the news going on in Africa and South America?”

More laughter from the class.

“Yeah,” Brad replied.

“Well, I don’t know much—only that what’s happening over there is devastating and we should all hope they catch the perpetrators soon. Now back to molecular genetics…”

South America? Kayla tried to remember if her father mentioned cases there, too. She recalled her mother saying something about crimes happening in different places, but South America is a whole other continent. And it’s a lot closer to America than Africa.

Looking directly at Kayla, their teacher, asked, “Kayla, could you tell us what DNA stands for and what it does?”

A bit startled, Kayla answered, “Deoxyribonucleic acid. It’s the genetic information in our bodies that make us who we are.”

“Very good. Stacy, you’re next, can you tell the class what RNA means?”

Kayla took a breath. No. She wasn’t going to get hooked on this like her father and everyone else. They’ll find and arrest the killers, and this will all be over soon.

The teacher sighed. “No, Stacy, I’m afraid that’s incorrect.”

*

Back home, in her bedroom, Kayla’s cellphone dinged as she perfected her winged eyeliner. It was her brother: Yo. Check this out.

He sent her a video clip of Hermit’s podcast. Apparently parts of it were now being uploaded to social media.

Great, now this nut job is going viral.

A middle-aged man with shaggy, long brown hair, wearing a yellow unbuttoned shirt that resembled something you would wear to a tropical beach was in a room with the words, HERMIT’S RULE flashing brightly behind him.

He was speaking into a large microphone. “You have to think about the psychological mindset of a person that would drain their victims’ bodies. Why do they feel the need to do that? Why this M.O.?

That, paired with the reluctance of the bigger news outlets to discuss it, I do believe points to a bigger story that’s not being shared with the general public. What exactly are they hiding and how long do they think they can hide it for?

One way or another, the truth always comes out. Factual truth, of course—not the mumbo jumbo kind of truth they force feed us on a daily basis on their mainstream media. No, this is something bigger and it will eventually affect all of us if we don’t pay attention and ask the right questions. Are you asking the right questions?”

Kayla rolled her eyes. She couldn’t stand sixty seconds of the guy and wondered how her father could stand listening to an hour of him.

She agreed with her mother. He was just some nobody looking for his fifteen minutes of fame. But her rage wasn’t just about Hermit or the never-ending talk of the murder cases. It was also because the night she was dreading had finally arrived: the track meet party.

She placed the bottle of peach vodka carefully in her bag alongside a couple of wrapped sporty-themed shot glasses. Having spent her entire Saturday studying, she was determined to have fun tonight.

Standing in front of her mirror, she smoothed out her flared, laced burgundy dress. An oldie but a goodie that deserved to be worn again. She then checked to make sure her black curls were bouncy and holding. Despite her original dread of tonight, she couldn’t wait to focus on something else. She just hoped people wouldn’t dwell on her team’s loss for too long. She figured the earlier she got there, the sooner her near-win could be talked about so that a new topic could quickly take over. She also considered arriving a bit late in the hopes that it would be discussed without her, so by the time she arrived, everyone would have moved on to beer pong tournaments and gossip. But she knew that this was wishful thinking.

*

Kayla arrived at the party and met up with her friends from school. Dance music was playing as she walked through the hall, saying hi to everyone she passed. The rooms were filled with people, one was a group playing video games on a big screen tv with a crowd watching and cheering. Another was a room where students were playing cards. Betting on the number of shots they would have to take if they lose.

As she went by a few people congratulated her on her silver win, and she couldn’t help but smile. She didn’t think it would feel this way. Instead of feeling the sting of the loss, she was starting to feel pride. No one was dwelling on how close she was to the gold, but instead cheering her silver as a win. A part of her now wished she wore her medal.

She saw her track mates and she applauded them as well. They ran hard and she wouldn’t have had the lead she did if it wasn’t for them—even if she lost it in the end. She eventually made her way to the kitchen counter. She took out the vodka bottle and unwrapped the shot glasses.

“Omgosh those are so cute!” Stacy gushed. “Here, pour me one.”

Kayla poured Stacy and herself a shot.

“Wait—we have to cheers.” Stacy lifted up her shot glass. “To… high school finally being over!”

“But we’re not going to the same university,” Kayla whined.

“Doesn’t matter, babe, we’re still gonna stay in touch and be BFFs. Now, bottoms ups.”

Kayla downed her shot. She went over and grabbed a red cup from a table behind her that was stacked with cups, chips, and unattended booze. This is going to be a wild night.

She mixed her vodka with strawberry soda and looked around. A beer pong station was set up in the living room and Kayla couldn’t wait to play. She was having a great time before she overheard a conversation.

“Could you imagine, though—a serial killer on the loose. This could be the next Jack the Ripper or Zodiac.” A guy from Kayla’s calculus class was chatting about the murders.

He went on, “since the technological advances of the twenty-first century, it’s been harder for killers to become so active.” A couple of guys nodded and murmured in agreement. “Because we can track more with forensics. That’s why these stories are so huge—they can’t track the killers! Even with all the updated technology we have. It’s like they’re ghosts!”

“They’ll catch them eventually.” Said one of the guys friends.

“I’m not so sure. How can they be found if they can’t be tracked?” The guy mimicked his mind being blown.

Jeez, who invited the nerd? Wondered Kayla, hating to be reminded of her troubles at home.

Echoing her thoughts, Stacy said, “Buzz-kill much?”

“I know, who wants to talk about serial killers at a party?” Kayla shuddered at the thought.

The guys continued their conversation. “Bro how is this guy jumping from country to country?”

“That’s what they do!” said the nerdy guy excitedly. “This guy could be anywhere! He could even be here in this room right now!”

“Oh, don’t say that! That’s creepy!” cried Stacy alongside the squeals of some other girls. “And can you keep it down over there? We can hear you nerds from all the way over here.”

“It’s you, isn’t it?” said one of the jocks from the basketball team. He was pointing at the nerdy guy. “Fess up, man. I know it’s you. You know too much.”

“Yo who cares! Set up the next round of pong.” Said a jock leaning against the wall.

Kayla nodded her head in agreement, readying herself for another round of pong.

“How come they can’t find proof of how they’re doing it?” Said some dude chilling on the couch.

“They need to find the primary location,” said Kayla, repeating her father’s words. “That’s where the crime scene actually is. They find that, they find proof.” She shrugged, wanting desperately for it to be that simple.

“Look at you, miss smarty pants!” cried one of her friends.

Kayla smirked and teased, “I can be nerdy too!” She didn’t know why she felt the need to chime in.

“Makes sense.” Jake looked her way with an approving nod, making Kayla blush.

Just then Kayla’s arch nemesis walked in, the girl from Central Valley High, and people cheered as she walked through the room with her gold medal.

“Be cool, be cool,” Stacy warned Kayla.

Kayla flipped her hair, pretending not to notice her. Then she heard her call out her name.

“Kayla!”

Oof, someone has definitely been pre-drinking tonight. “Chloe omgosh, finally you’re here!”

Kayla and Chloe hugged it out before Chloe wrapped an arm around Kayla and walked her to the other room where the cheering crowd was.

“We have to talk about the race, girl. Seriously, I was just so focused on running I didn’t even see who was in front of me. Then after I crossed the finish line first, I looked over and realized it was you! And I was just like ‘whoa what’? I couldn’t believe it was you. You were always so good! Like seriously, girl, you’re so fast!”

“That’s sweet of you to say,” Kayla said, topping off her peach and soda spritzer. “It was a good race.” She took a heavy sip.

“So, what are your plans for next year?” Before Kayla could answer, her phone pinged. She got a text from Stacy, who wanted her to call her over from the group of people she was with.

“Sorry I have to get this,” Kayla said holding up her phone, thankful for the interruption. Then she called Stacy to come over and join her in the corner of the room. “Hey what’s up?”

“Sorry, I had to act like you wanted me to come over. Lilith is trying to convince everyone of some underground virus theory nonsense.”

Kayla, now feeling buzzed, giggled. “What?”

“I have no idea, ask her.”

“Nah, it’s alright, I’m good. You ready for beer pong? We’re up against Jake and Chad.”

Stacy gave her a flirty look. “Of course it would be those two! Come on, lets kick their butts while they fall madly in love with us!”

They spent the night playing drinking games, dancing, and gossiping. Kayla got home around two o’clock in the morning. Their friend John drove her home. He drew the short straw and had to be the designated driver for the night.

“Need one of us to walk you up to the door?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Kayla slurred. The other drunk girl in the back started gushing about how much fun she had.

“Text me tomorrow, okay?” Stacy slurred back.

“Yep, yep will do!” Kayla stumbled out the car door.

“Ah… you sure you don’t need me to walk you to the door?” John asked.

The other girls giggled. Kayla just waved them off. Her parents knew she would be out late and would be expecting her to knock or ring the bell if she decided not to crash at a friend’s place.

Kayla sauntered her way up the porch steps and put her hand on the doorknob. She was about to ring the bell when she noticed the door opened without her having to turn the handle. She stared. Why was the door already open?

Kayla tried to think back, did she accidentally leave the door open when she left earlier? That’s weird. She snickered and snorted, “Whoops!”

She went inside. All the lights were off. But that made sense—at this time of night her parents would be sleeping. She noisily kicked off her heels then sauntered into the kitchen for some water.

Thanks to her terrible pong skills, she knew she would wake up with a killer hangover tomorrow… Or was it today? She laughed, snorting again, grabbed a pitcher of water, and poured some in a glass and chugged. She was flushed, and the crisp coolness of the water was refreshing.

The girl who beat her during the race was at the party. She remembered the conversation she had with her. “Omg, Kayla, I always thought you were so fast I almost couldn’t believe it when I passed you! It was such a close race!” Kayla mimicked Chloe in a high-pitched, mocking tone.

That girl was going to another college on a track scholarship and Kayla looked forward to when their two teams competed. I’ll be ready next time.

She unsteadily poured more water, overfilling her cup, making a mess on the floor and spilling water on her already vodka-stained dress.

She giggled again. “Whoops!”

She opened the fridge to see what she could snack on. Since she wasn’t in the mood to sleep, she figured she may as well eat. She noticed some leftover spaghetti and Bolognese that their family had for dinner the night before. She plopped some on a plate and heated it up in the microwave.

It was then that she heard shuffling furniture and raised voices. She turned around, not really sure if she heard anything at all as the voices and sounds stopped.

She went to the foot of the stairs and looked up. She didn’t hear anything coming from upstairs, and she didn’t see any lights on. As Kayla walked down the hallway, she heard the voices again, and they were getting louder. They were coming from her father’s study.

What is her father doing up so late? She pressed her ear up against the door and listened.

“Honey, just look at this image, look at the markings!” Kayla heard her father say in an exasperated tone.

“I don’t want to see it again, it’s sickening,” replied her mother.

“But this death occurred in Brazil, and there are reports of people starting to disappear in Mexico now.”

“The article mentioned that the deaths in Brazil were due to an illness. They had some kind of blood disorder! You’re driving yourself crazy!”

“Oh, that’s bullshit. Complete and utter nonsense. What kind of blood disorder drains your blood?”

Kayla lost her balance and stumbled through the door. She looked up at her parents.

“Kayla?” Her mother and father were both behind his desk, staring down at her. Her mother had pulled the sofa chair up beside her father’s desk.

Getting up awkwardly, Kayla quickly tried to act more sober than she felt. She didn’t want her parents to know how absolutely wasted she was. “Door was open.”

“Yes, the office doesn’t have a lock,” her dad said.

“Front door has a lock.”

Her parents glanced at each other.

“Yes, it does. Her mother sighed. Honey, why don’t you head on up to bed? I’ll bring up some water for you.”

“No need,” Kayla replied, “I got spaghetti in the microwave.”

“Well, I’ll bring that up to you, okay?” said her mom.

“Okie dokes,” said Kayla.

She headed up the stairs towards her room, impressed with how well she was able to mask her drunken state. “Nailed it!”

Chapter Five

Kayla woke up with a headache—just as she predicted she would. Rolling over lazily, she knocked the dirty dishes off her nightstand when she reached for her phone. She looked down at the sauce-crusted plate. Yeah that’s gonna have to stay there for now. There was no way she had the energy or the will to pick it up.

She looked at her phone and scrolled through tons of missed text messages.

Stacy: Omg Chad asked for my number! You think he’ll text?

Kendrick: The party was lit, when’s the next?

Alex: Ya’ll hosting the after prom? Where’s it at?

Kayla’s phone dinged again and she saw someone had posted something in her study group chat. Looking at the message Kayla was confused. Why is this person posting a screen shot and a link to an article?

Lilith: See I told you guys!

Julia: What the heck you’re saying there’s a virus going around? Is anyone else worried about this? I cannot get sick before prom!

Kayla remembered this girl Lilith. She was known throughout the school to be a worrier and neurotic. Always stressing about some kind of drama, even when it wasn’t her own. Kayla thought she secretly enjoyed it. At the party she was going on about a virus theory that was being passed around through unknown news sites on the deep web. No one knew what she was talking about and kept trying to change the subject. Now she was apparently still trying to convince people of what she was talking about. Whatever she was going on about, there was no way Kayla was going to read a whole article right now. The publication name didn’t even look legit.

Jessica: Girl just get the flu shot, you’ll be fine.

Kayla: LOL

Kayla then swiped over to her other group chat and sent a quick text.

Kayla: awesome party guys! See you tomorrow!

After, she rolled over and fell back asleep.

A few hours passed before Marcus’s hard knock pounded on the door. “You alive in there?”

“What?” she said, still a bit groggy.

A light switch was flipped on and Kayla groaned, pulling the covers over her head, shielding her eyes from the brightness.

“Lala! Lala! Wake up!”

Marcus laughed. “Yo, how wrecked did you get last night?”

Kayla tossed her blanket aside, squinting. “What time is it?”

“Almost three.” Marcus came into the room, holding Damien, who was giggling and reaching out for Kayla.

“Hey,” said Kayla, sitting up. She looked for her phone. Wow it really is almost three.

“You came in later than I did last night,” said Marcus.

“Oh, you went out too?” Kayla said, picking up her dishes and getting out of bed. She didn’t want to, but she knew she had to try and get some studying done today.

“Yeah, went bar hopping with a few buddies.”

She went over and took her little brother from Marcus and snuggled him. “What about you, buddy, you party hard last night too?”

Damien giggled and squealed, “Yeah!”

They laughed and she handed Damien back to Marcus. “I’m gonna put these away and go brush up.” She watched as her brother tossed Damien lightly in the air while heading for the door.

Placing the dishes in the kitchen sink, Kayla put a specialty coffee pod in the coffee maker and waited for it to brew. She went back to her room with a large mug of vanilla chai latte, ignoring her bed that was beckoning her to come back and lay in it for the rest of the day. Instead, she booted up her desktop computer, dragged her calculus textbook closer to her, and opened it to get ready to do some online practice questions.

Still feeling tired, she took a sip of her latte when a memory from the night before flashed in her mind. How her parents were in the study when she got home. It was late. Were they fighting again?

She tried to remember what she overheard them talking about, but nothing came to mind, and her throbbing headache intensified. She rubbed her face, regretting not grabbing aspirin from the kitchen earlier. There was no way she was going to be able to focus on her calculus studies right now, but it wasn’t hard to guess what her parents were probably discussing.

She sighed and said, “Eff it.” Opening her search engine’s browser, she typed in the words “Hermit podcast.”

His podcast came up, but her brother was right. You couldn’t watch a full episode without a subscription. She doubted her father had his account password just lying around on his desk, although with how unorganized he’d been lately she wouldn’t be surprised if she did find it somewhere. She didn’t want to risk wandering in his study and getting caught shuffling through his things, so she tried searching the name “Hermit” on social media sites instead. All that came up were the same old videos and clips, most of which she’d seen already. She tried another site that just had commentary of how Hermit was a hack and if left unchecked, would continue to cause panic among the people who followed him. Seeing how it affected her mother and father, that might not be far off.

Hermit’s musings caused her father to become obsessed, and that created a rift between her parents, so she couldn’t help but agree a tiny bit. The last site she tried was one that wasn’t as popular among her and her peers. It was too much talk and not enough visuals and funny clips. Still, she figured she should try them all. If she can’t watch the full episodes of the podcast, maybe she could get a decent summary from other posters. Relieved she could look through the threads without having to create a dummy account, she finally found several discussions on Hermit. She noticed there were a few headlines, all with varying subjects relating to him:

“I watched the latest podcast by Hermit, so you don’t have to.”

“Thoughts on the crimes Hermit been looking into?”

“Anyone else think this Hermit guy is a mad man?”

She clicked on a thread with the headline “What Do You Think of the Recent ‘News’ from Hermit?” There were tons of comments. Kayla sighed as she noticed some folks preferred to write novel length opinions. Have these people never heard of TLDR sections?

Eventually she got the gist of the overall discussions. For the most part everyone was agreeing the crimes and reported sightings were all highly unusual. And the global response, or lack thereof, was also suspicious. She started getting the same information her dad described. It started with people going missing—mainly younger people. Some of them as young as toddlers. Wow, she couldn’t imagine a place where such terrible things happened. Then people started to show up dead. Older people. Early on the bodies were found nearly completely drained of their blood but then other types of bodies started to show up.

Wait what?

She read the last sentence over again. What other types of bodies?

Continuing she saw that there were many people who had the same thought process as her mother. The missing kids and homicides were happening sporadically in different parts of the world. Therefore, they were unrelated.

She found a post that spoke about a specific incident with one of the discovered bodies. Apparently, someone found that one of the bodies that was nearly drained of all its blood was, in fact, still alive and was taken to the hospital. However, the incident was never spoken about again. Not even on the news. The family of the victim was told he had passed away due to blood loss, but they couldn’t see his body. When they attempted to access the body for funeral services, they found out the body of their son was cremated without their knowledge or consent. The family was devastated.

Commenters flocked to the post in support of the family and to shame and condemn the actions of both the hospital and the funeral home where the cremation took place. Tons of commenters were also screaming conspiracy, with most of them claiming government coverups and touting human experimentation. Whatever the reason, Kayla did agree that it was odd. And now that she thought about it, there was never any mention of survivors being found except for this one. And he didn’t last long.

There was a light knock on her door. Her mother poked her head in. “Hi, hun, haven’t seen you all day. How was the party?”

“It was good,” said Kayla, barely glancing up at her.

“Good. What you working on? They don’t still have you doing assignments this late in the semester, do they?”

“Ah, yeah. The last essay of the year—for English.”

Her mother shook her head, “Well, dinner is in a couple hours. I’m thinking of just ordering in today. The boys want pizza.”

@FakeNewsBeGone: Authorities along with the prime minister were caught lying about the number of people that have gone missing within their cities.

Why would they lie…?

“Honey?”

“What, Mom?”

“Pizza? Do you just want your usual?”

“Yeah, my usual, thanks.”

“Alright.” Her mother closed her door, but Kayla thought she caught a worried look on her face.

Kayla clicked on a community post she found in reference to the crimes. It was a thread where you had to be a member to chime in, but the comments were public. She sighed, as it looked like a group of religious fanatics either talking about or agreeing that an apocalypse was coming and that the world was coming to an end. That God will determine those who are worthy for eternal life while the others will burn.

Kayla rolled her eyes. Her family wasn’t very religious. There was a time her parents—her mother especially—went to church, but that must have been during Kayla’s younger years, so she barely remembered it. She had a vague memory of sitting in a church pew and listening to a pastor preach but it was hazy, and those days were long gone. In her mind, God wouldn’t give up on humanity so easily and that the end of the world rhetoric was a bit much. Scanning through the comments, though, suggested different. There were many who believed what was going on was the work of either God or the devil. She wondered if her dad had that jotted down in his notes, too.

There was another knock on the door, and Marcus came in before she answered. He walked over to her bookshelf, tossing a softball up in the air. “Yo.”

Kayla quickly dimmed her screen. “What do you want?”

He chuckled. “Mom wants to know if you want garlic bread?”

“Ah… I’m good with just the pizza. Thanks.”

“I’m gonna tell Mom you said you want garlic bread. Don’t study too hard,” he added, nodding to the calculus textbook on her desk before heading out.

“Hey, do you remember us going to church when we were younger?” Kayla asked before he reached the door.

“Yeah, Mom and Dad used to take us years ago.”

That explains the fuzzy memories. “Do you believe? In Him?”

He smiled. “Yeah, I guess I do. Don’t really put too much thought into it nowadays. Why?”

Kayla shrugged. “I don’t know. With all the horrible crimes going on, kinda have to wonder why he’s letting it happen, right?”

Marcus laughed. “Wow, that’s harsh. Freewill remember? He gave us the freedom to choose for ourselves. To live our own destinies whether it’s good or bad.”

Kayla smirked at him. “That’s deep.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I kinda miss those church days. Learned a lot of cool stuff.”

Kayla watched as he closed the door behind him. Freewill. Meaning that bad people are free to do bad things, but good people are free to stop them. At least that’s how she thought of it.

She decided to continue her search, skipping over results with religious theories or bashing Hermit. She saw a passing comment about someone from the United Kingdom claiming they sent over experts to Africa to scope the problem out, having concluded that an investigation was needed to prevent further death.

There you go, she thought, good fighting off the bad. But as she finished reading the post, Kayla was confused. They’re sending virologists for a serial killer?

She shook her head. It didn’t make any sense. This person must be mistaken.

She kept digging and found a post about a case in Texas.

@Ranger4Texas: It’s here, it’s already here. Look up the statistics for Texas kidnappings and missing persons. They have recently spiked within the last couple weeks. There was one report of a victim found drained of their blood in their own home. They claimed it was from an undiagnosed blood disorder…

Kayla noticed the post didn’t have many views. She wondered if that meant this person was wrong. Because it’s not happening here in America. Still, as Kayla moved on to the next thread a cold chill ran through her. No, it’s not happening here.

She hopped onto a different social media platform, the one that specializes in uploaded pictures. She figured it was time she saw what these people were seeing.

After making a pseudo account, she looked at the evidence everyone else was talking about. She searched up people who claimed to be passersby of these crimes or even witnesses. She saw the kind of pictures her usual go-to social site wouldn’t dare to show. She stared at the screen in horror. The bodies she was looking at weren’t bloodless. In fact, they were in a pool of blood. Their bodies were nearly ripped apart. Some were missing limbs, fear frozen on their faces. Some had been left out exposed to the harsh environment before being found and were already starting to decompose. Their eyes missing as if they were pecked out by crows.

The exposed bones from their corpses sickened her, the torn faces, the lifeless eyes. They all had a look of terror locked on them—the kind of terror they took to their graves—and left everyone else wondering what it was they saw. Nausea rose up her throat and her eyes watered. She placed a hand over her mouth and looked away from the screen. She took several deep breaths. She didn’t think she would have much of an appetite for pizza later.

Slamming her screen shut, anger bubbled up within her. This wasn’t what her father said. It was supposed to be just drained bodies—they weren’t all chewed up like this. Why didn’t her father tell her about these ones? And what about that Texas guy? Why would her parents say it’s happening on the other side of the world if there were cases here in America?

She opened her computer screen back up, and using her other hand to cover the images, she crept to the comments. The comments were varied, some saying they were obviously animal attacks. Another person suggested animals infected by rabies. Dissenting voices were making the argument that it couldn’t be animal attacks due to various reasons such as wound type or the injuries shown. Kayla wasn’t about to scroll back up to check. The locations of where the bodies were found were also mentioned, as some bodies were found far from any animal sanctuaries or wildlife, and that there were no animals that would drag their prey that far inland—especially not without anyone witnessing the strange spectacle.

Kayla didn’t know if she agreed. A body that torn apart had to be some kind of wild animal. Right?

Whatever it was, Kayla never wanted to come face to face with the creature doing this.

*

Marching downstairs, Kayla confronted her parents. “You didn’t say that not all the bodies found were drained! There were ones that were torn to pieces! They weren’t bloodless, there was blood everywhere!”

“We didn’t want to discuss those—” her father said.

“Because those were animal attacks, honey.” Her mother gave a begrudging side glance at her father.

“The people online said it wasn’t animals! That it was impossible since the wounds didn’t match animal bites—” Kayla paused, realizing she wasn’t making much sense when she said it out loud. Because what other bites would they be if not an animal?

The images of the ripped bodies flashed in her mind. The scratches and teeth marks… limbs hanging off the body… heads barely attached by neck sinews… eyeballs plucked out by vultures. And they were all left discarded in pools of their own blood. They were definitely attacked by something.

Her mother pulled her in close while glaring at her dad. “Everything is going to be okay, Kayla.”

Her dad stayed quiet.

“And they weren’t just happening in Africa,” Kayla continued more quietly now, “there are cases in Brazil, UK, Texas, Mexico…”

“What?” Her father stared at her stuttering, “Texas? There was no mention of… Where did you hear—”

“That’s enough! Kayla, honey, go upstairs. Get some more rest.”

Kayla headed to her room, and her parents stayed quiet downstairs. Kayla had a hunch. She opened her door for a moment, then closed it audibly without going inside. Her hunch was right.

“Why? Why couldn’t you just let this go? Why do you keep dragging this on?” Her mother immediately shouted.

“It’s not out of the realm of possibilities that those cases are also connected…”

“They’re animal attacks, Trey! The authorities there even say they’re animal attacks. It’s Africa for crying out loud!”

“I understand it all seems random, but the timing coincides with each other. An unusual uptick of violent animal attacks along with the discovery of bloodless bodies. And the list of missing kids unaccounted for keeps growing. Something is clearly going on.”

“These cases are spread out throughout the world, Trey.” her mother continued, “you are lumping crimes and disappearances together and trying to shoehorn them to turn something horrid into some kind of sinister plot. There is no grand conspiracy here other than some sick bastards getting away with sick things!”

“Hermit believes otherwise,” her father said.

The silence that followed was palpable. Even though Kayla had her own reservations about the cause simply being animals, she hated hearing Hermit’s name. It made her blood boil.

“I can’t do this anymore, Trey.” Her mother said it so softly, Kayla barely heard it. “You have let that man invade our lives. You two thinking you know more than trained professionals.”

Her mother let out a strained laugh, “And, no, you being a crime fiction writer does not make you an expert in murder!”

Kayla heard her mom stop and take a breath—probably to calm herself down. “I need my husband back. Your obsession? It’s affecting the children. These stories are so dark and so twisted, they shouldn’t be reading about these things, Trey. The kids are still young. I don’t want them to see the evils of humanity. I don’t want them to be scared of this world. They’ll learn soon enough but not now. Not yet.”

Kayla’s dad sighed. “That may not be entirely in our control.”

“It’s in our control today.”

“You’re right. It is.”

Chapter Six

All the viral reposts, comments, and pleas for help became too loud for the rest of the world to ignore. People could no longer pretend that these terrible crimes weren’t happening. Pressure from the chronically online people mounted, and it was all anyone wanted to talk about. That meant it was time for the news outlets to talk about it, too. And they did in full force.

There were experts and dedicated podcasts popping up that were hellbent on disproving the severity of the crimes and supressing the theories going around. Talking about how government coverups and clear animal attacks are being used to foster dissent and fear in the public. That it was nothing more than a political stunt. Hyperbolic rhetoric being spread by the likes of Hermit and his ilk that was causing unnecessary fear and panic. All for profit.

Of course, these very same podcasts would then go on to thank people for listening and ask them to subscribe and buy their merchandise right after. Kayla knew there was no getting away from this now. Her mother knew it too. It had finally become a global story worth talking about.

Governments, social media, and news outlets all over the world started reporting and broadcasting the occurrences. The local news in the countries themselves couldn’t keep their own news down, so they too tried to downplay the severity of the crimes. Local governments tried to avoid criticism on how their law, state, and officials were handling the crisis. However, they couldn’t stop any of it from seeping into worldwide news. They had the victims to thank for that.

Audiences wanted to know the details, what was happening, and if their own theories were correct. There were numerous podcasts on the matter now, not just Hermit’s, though a lot of them were just echoing what he had said previously. His site visits and numbers of subscribers skyrocketed. He was even being invited to speak on other podcasts and cable news networks—ones that would allow him to talk about his theories.

There were some dissenters online who voiced their disappointment that people were choosing to get their information on the topic from him. Kayla guessed her mother would fall in that category. It was the story that people wanted and demanded, and it got to a point where authorities had no choice but to share and give details of the occurrences.

Once the major news outlets started reporting the events, it all blew up. Even those without social media were being made aware of the horrific stories and crimes, playing catch-up to their online peers. Suddenly everyone was talking about it. It wasn’t long, though, before another worldwide discovery took over the media limelight.

*

“You missed the evening news again, dear,” Kayla’s mom called out to her father when he entered the family room. Damien was on the floor in front of her mother, doodling in a coloring book on the coffee table.

“Sorry, lost track of time. Anything interesting happen?”

“They talked about it.”

“Talked about what? The cases? You’re joking!”

“Nope. It has become number one news worldwide.”

“Wow.” Her dad shook his head. “I wonder why Hermit hasn’t mentioned it.”

“Perhaps he doesn’t want people getting their information from more reliable news sources. Wants to make sure his listeners keep tuning in to him,” her mom lightly suggested.

“I highly doubt that. So, what did they say?”

“You’re going to love this,” she said, sitting up on the couch. “The cases over there have gotten so severe that our own government has sent over health officials to investigate.”

“Health officials? Why would they send them?”

Her mother stuttered, “Well, I assume to help determine cause of death and try to find links between all the cases.”

Kayla’s dad furrowed his eyebrows. “Did the news anchor say anything more?”

Her mother let out a frustrated sigh, “I thought you would be pleased. The whole world is talking about it, and something is being done about it now.”

“No, I know, I know… you’re right.” Her dad couldn’t shake the baffled look on his face.

“My guess is there’s a new type of blood disorder going around. And they’re trying to understand it before it gets out of hand.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

*

Kayla’s alarm blasted, and she reached over to press the snooze button. “Just a couple more weeks,” she said to herself as she stayed snuggled in her bed. Then nothing but beaches, parties, and hanging out with her friends. She knew her snooze lasted about ten minutes, so she used that time to scroll on her phone. She received some alarming flash news notifications during the night:

[Race to contain new virus strain and prevent worldwide crisis. Irreconcilable differences strikes again! After 3 years of marriage, celebrity couple Missy and DJ Herro are headed for divorce. And chef Romano weighs in on the “how much garlic is too much garlic?” controversy.]

Wait what!? Kayla sat up, her heart pounding as she stared at her phone. No! Those two were so in love!

She sighed, rolling her eyes and flopping back down in bed. Why doesn’t anyone ever stay together anymore? “There’s my day ruined.”

On her way out of the house, she passed her brother in the hallway.

“You’re up early,” said Kayla.

“Yeah, me and the boys are heading over to the lake to go fishing today.”

She groaned, “Take me with you!” She would love a day by the lake.

He laughed. “Which exam you got today?”

“Calculus.”

He made a pained expression. “Good luck with that one.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Hey, stay away from anyone who has the sniffles, eh?”

“What?”

“There’s apparently a new kind of flu going around.”

“Ah, I will be on my guard from sneezers. See ya,” Kayla said as she headed to school. If the new cold wasn’t going to get her out of her calculus exam today, she didn’t care much about it.

*

Kayla was roaming the halls with other students when she noticed the vibe was different. Summer break was around the corner, but it wasn’t the laid-back atmosphere it usually was at the end of the school year. The chatter wasn’t as loud. People were speaking in hushed tones, as if everything they were saying was some kind of secret.

The teachers seemed different too, like they were on edge or stressed. She passed by open classrooms and saw them wiping down their desks in between periods. Hand sanitizer was suddenly in every room and offered by the water fountains. The janitors were making more rounds to clean the bathrooms. Kayla got the sense there was a lot of fear and exhaustion among the student body and figured it must be the new flu her brother was talking about. Passing by the neurotic girl, she saw her wearing a face mask. Kayla rolled her eyes. She was always so dramatic. Not everything was different though. Students were still glued to their phones, watching the same trending videos she recognized, and they continued to gossip about their theories. Everyone was an expert.

At lunchtime, Kayla met up with her friends in the cafeteria.

“My aunt is going nuts buying all the cleaning supplies she can find off the shelves. My stepdad thinks she’s gone crazy.”

“My parents don’t think it’s anything the West have to worry about.”

“Ugh, I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” they all murmured their agreement.

“So, did you get your prom dress yet?”

“No, I’m going this weekend. You want to come with?”

Kayla glanced around the cafeteria. Hand sanitizer was offered by the doors and the lunch ladies were also wearing health masks and gloves. They looked like they were getting ready to perform surgery instead of just serving them chicken burgers and chocolate milk. A couple of teachers were huddled together by the corner, in deep conversation. Guess they weren’t anticipating any end of year food fights. Looking around at the other tables Kayla saw groups of students either on their phones or crowded around someone with one. She had a sneaking suspicion as to what they were watching.

“Kayla?” Stacy looked at her with concern.

She jolted back, having zoned out. “Sorry, what?”

“Prom dress shopping? You got yours yet?”

“Yeah,” Kayla said, “me and my mom got mine last month.”

“Smart you went early!”

“Yeah,” Kayla said, “we went before all the good ones are gone.”

“Oh, I hope there’s some good ones left!”

“I hope no one gets the same dress as me…”

“Oh my God, could you imagine!?”

Kayla smiled and laughed along with her friends, though she couldn’t shake the ominous feeling that something was terribly wrong.

*

Kayla got home feeling like she could finally relax after her calculus exam, as it was her hardest exam of the year. She saw Damien crawling over to her and she picked him up, snuggling him.

“Hi, Lala!”

“Hey little, bro, how was your day?”

“Look, it’s doggy!” He held up his beloved plush dog he had clutched in his hands.

“Well, hello to you, Mr. Doggy.”

Her mother entered the kitchen, looking over her shoulder. “Should we make a Costco run now to stock-up?”

“Oooh, if you’re going to Costco could you grab those cookies I love? The jelly filled ones? Please?” Kayla asked, swaying side to side with Damien.

“Sweetheart, you’re home already?” Her mother checked her watch.

“I don’t think we should do anything too hastily, said her dad as he followed his wife. “Kayla, hi! Did you have a good day at school, kiddo?” He barely looked at her.

Kayla stared at them both, wondering what could possibly be going on now. “Yep, I had my calculus exam today and I think I did pretty good.”

“We should get everything while stores still have stock,” her mother said cryptically. “Before everything is taken.”

Her father took a breath and ran a hand through his curly hair, frustratingly. “Right, okay, do whatever you think is best.”

“Alright, what’s going on?” said Kayla, finally.

Her mother eyed her father a bit longer, as if she was as confused at his behavior as Kayla was. “Nothing, just deciding what groceries to get. Here, I’ll take Damien.”

Kayla kissed Damien on the head before handing him over. “The cookies?”

“What? Oh, yes, I will get you your cookies, darling.”

“Sweet, thanks!”

Her mother headed out to her car and placed Damien in his car seat.

“Wait. Mom!” Kayla ran out, almost slipping as her shoes were not put on properly.

“Yes, honey?”

“I’m going to come with you.”

“You sure? It’ll just be a quick trip. Don’t you have other exams to study for?”

“The rest are all easy,” Kayla said, opening the car door.

When they arrived at Costco, it was packed with shoppers. “Why are there so many people?” asked Kayla out loud to no one in particular.

“Ah… I don’t know. Must be the time of day. You know, school just got out and work shifts have ended. That sort of thing.” Her mother shrugged while she struggled to place Damien in the cart seat. Kayla thought her mother seemed a bit anxious.

After securing Damien in the cart, her mother rummaged through her purse. “I know I have it somewhere… Here it is!” The shopping list. She frowned. “I see your father seems to have added a few items. Alright, let’s go.” They moved through the aisles, grabbing canned goods and other staple food products.

“Powdered milk, Mom?” said Kayla, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

“It’s ah… for a recipe I want to try out. Just put it back in the cart please.”

Kayla plopped the bag of powder back in the cart. She also noticed her mom was buying more cereal than usual. And tons of rice.

“Okay that’s enough for now. Oops!” Her mother’s cart crashed with another cart, one towered high with rolls of paper towels and toilet paper.

The frazzled woman with frizzy orange hair was towing two unruly younger kids. “Sara, stop hitting your brother! Now come along. So sorry,” she said to Kayla’s mother before rushing forward.

Kayla couldn’t take the weirdness anymore. She could tell that people were shopping in a panic. “Mom, what is going on?”

“I’m not sure, hun. Can you go see if there’s any paper towels left? I hope that woman didn’t take them all,” she added under her breath. “I’m going to get some cleaning supplies.”

Kayla groaned. “Oh, not you too!” It was like a body snatchers movie, but one where everyone turns into overreacting, cleaning frenzied monsters.

“Kayla, do what I say,” her mother snapped before heading to the cleaning supply aisle. Kayla went a few rows down to the paper towels. The shelves were nearly empty. This is insane.

Kayla grabbed the last bunch and went looking for her mom. She heard a crashing sound and loud arguing. Looking over to the other side of the store, she saw two people fighting over the last batch of bottled water. Kayla shook her head. People have gone crazy!

“Kayla, there you are. Come on, let’s get in line at a register.”

“Why not self-checkout?” Then Kayla looked and saw that it was closed and blocked off. Ugh, the lineups were horrendous. They finally got to the parking lot with their groceries, her mother pushing the cart filled with bags and Damien.

“Mom? Are you and dad worried about this virus going around too? Like super worried?” Kayla eyed the three disinfectant cans in the cart.

Her mom sighed as she popped the trunk. “We’re getting supplies just in case. It’s probably all unnecessary.”

Kayla slid into the passenger seat, watching the frenzied Costco shoppers enter and leave the store when she realized they forgot her cookies.

Chapter Seven

Kayla’s parents were spending every evening in the living room watching the six o’clock news together. Her mother started serving supper earlier in the day so her and her father wouldn’t miss it. Sometimes her father would just take his plate to the study to watch the news in there while her mother, trying to maintain normalcy, would eat dinner at the table with them and then have their dad fill her in on what she missed after.

One evening as Kayla was loading the dishwasher while her parents were glued to the TV, she overheard her mother say, “You know, I was hoping something else would distract you but I wasn’t expecting this.”

“This is not really much of a distraction, honey,” said her dad.

Kayla went over and peeked into the living room. They didn’t seem to notice her. Looking at the TV screen, she saw the bottom news ribbon scroll across: “U.S. Department of Health has sent over epidemiologists.”

Going back into the kitchen, she took out her phone and looked it up. Disease detectives?

Maybe Hermit did get it wrong, and this was the missing piece of the puzzle that the authorities couldn’t figure out. It wasn’t a killer. It was an illness. Kayla shook her head, something about that still didn’t seem right.

“They’re going to cancel incoming and outgoing flights. I can’t believe they’re starting to quarantine the people there,” her mother said, shaking her head. “They can’t be too happy about being forced to remain in a place against their will.”

“No, I imagine they aren’t. Especially if there’s a serial killer roaming the area.”

Her mother sighed but said nothing more. Kayla could imagine her mother stifling her annoyance. She didn’t blame her, as there had been no mention of a serial killer on prime-time news despite Hermit and his followers, including her father, saying otherwise. It was all blood disorders and wild animals, and nothing more.

The theory that was being put forth was that the same strain of virus that was causing blood disorders in humans was also causing animals to be overly aggressive and violent—similar to an extreme form of rabies. Though the only evidence researchers had were the bodies torn limb from limb. Many experts were pointing out that the bodies weren’t enough for conclusive findings or a definitive answer. There was no mention of the missing kids. Apparently, that really was unrelated. Her mom never said, I told you so.

Kayla wondered what the original folks online, the ones who sounded the alarm in the first place, thought about it. When she checked, it was the same videos she had already seen recycled through all the social media sites. She wondered if they suddenly stopped uploading new content now that the authorities were involved, but in her heart, she knew that wasn’t the case. She knew families would continue to scream and shout until their loved ones were found and they had answers. She shook off the thought because if she continued down that conspiracy road then she would have to reckon with the reason as to why there weren’t any new updates being shown. And she was not yet ready to come to terms with what that meant.

“They’re even limiting flights from Chicago O’Hare airport now,” said her mother.

Her father shrugged.

“There was apparently an incident—the news didn’t really talk about it—I heard it from a colleague at work.”

“Wait, what happened?” Her father was suddenly interested.

“I’m not too sure. She just said there was an emergency onboard and they had to close down the terminal for hours.”

Heading up the stairs to her room, Kayla searched “Chicago O’Hare Airport drama” on her phone to see what came up. It was mostly passenger fights over the aisle seat, but there was one recent passenger on the plane who recorded a video of his grisly experience flying from Texas to Chicago.

A man was waiting outside the bathroom on the plane, banging on the door. “Come on already, I got to go!”

The man recording could be heard saying. “Look at this impatient asshole. Just go to the bathroom on the other side, dickhead.”

A stewardess then asks the man to sit down, as the plane was about to descend.

The man who was banging on the door tells her the person has been in that bathroom for over twenty minutes.

The stewardess knocks on the door. There’s no answer.

The cameraman says, “Whoa, they’re going to unlock the door! You guys seeing this?”

Then as soon as the door is unlocked, a dead shrivelled up body falls out, eyes and mouth wide open.

Screams then fill the whole plane.

Kayla stifled her own shock with her hand. God that was gnarly to see. The dead guy just popped out!

She shook her head. This was getting more and more effed up. She rifled through the comments then reposted the video and sent the link to her father. She knew he would want to see this. Like some others have said, this blood disorder was no joke.

She heard her father’s phone ping with the message she sent.

Her father sighed as his opened his phone. “They must be having a hard time tracing it.”

“Tracing it?” Her mother asked.

“Yeah, when a disease is involved they try to trace it back to where it all started. Patient zero. They need to find patient zero.” He opened the video and Kayla could hear the passengers’ screams coming from his phone as she opened her bedroom door.

*

A week later, and Kayla was still thinking about that airplane incident video. As she sat in her bean bag chair, doom scrolling, Marcus walked in. “Hey have you started packing for college yet?”

Kayla rolled her eyes. “I’ve got the whole summer. And why are you whispering?”

“Damien is napping in the next room. So… you think you could introduce me to some of your track teammates when we get there?”

“Stop, no, get out of here!” said Kayla, shaking her head and throwing a pillow at him.

“What? I can help you guys train. I’ll bring the baton.”

“Oh my gosh!” Kayla readied herself to toss another pillow at him when they heard raised voices from downstairs. They looked over at each other…

“They’re at it again,” said Kayla.

Marcus shrugged. “It’s getting serious, some of my friends from abroad are talking about riots and protests happening in their countries.”

They headed downstairs to hear their mother speaking frantically. “What—what does this mean? What are they saying?”

“They’re saying, Michelle, that whatever infected those people has made its way here.” Their father turned the television off with the remote. “It might already be here,” he added gravely.

“Well,” their mother said, trying to regain a sense of calm and composure after seeing Kayla and Marcus watching them, “we knew there was a possibility of this happening, we prepared for it—”

“We can’t stay, Michelle.”

“What? What do you mean we can’t stay? Where would we go?”

Kayla looked at Marcus and mouthed Go? Her brother gave her the same concerned look.

Her father ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. They just said head up North.”

Their mother scoffed. “This is ridiculous. How can they expect us to—”

“Is uh everything okay? asked Marcus.

Their mom looked away, distraught. “Well, it appears that the US government has suggested—”

“It’s a mandated order,” said their dad. “They mentioned it earlier.”

“They can’t just order their citizens to up and leave. Uprooting their lives to another country. Besides,” her mother said, trying to whisper now, “how do they expect to just evacuate an entire country to another?”

“Wait—what? What other country?” said Kayla. “I don’t understand.”

“They thought the virus was contained,” her father paced across the room, “but I guess they were wrong, and it’s made its way over here. And it’s spreading quicker than they thought. For some southern parts of America… it’s too late for them.”

“Since when did you believe it was a virus, Dad?” asked Marcus, quietly.

“So, we need to go to another country to avoid getting sick?” Kayla asked. “That makes no sense!”

“Let’s just all calm down and take a breath,” said their mother.

“Wait a second. How long will we be gone for? Will we be back before school next fall?” asked Marcus.

“We don’t know,” said their dad.

“Prom is next week!” Kayla cried out.

“No, it’s not, they just announced the school year has been cancelled across country and maybe even worldwide,” said their dad.

This hit Kayla hard. She choked back a sob and placed a hand over her mouth to fight the urge to burst out crying. Many emotions coursed through her, she stood there speechless while watching her parents argue back and forth. Her brother jumped in, trying to make sense of what was happening. For whatever reason, prom being cancelled, the school year abruptly ending, the uncertainty of college in the fall… It was all hitting Kayla like a freight train. Whatever was happening, it was real. Kayla’s head was starting to spin.

“I know. This is so rushed,” her mother whispered, echoing Kayla’s thoughts as she wiped away her tears.

“That’s because they didn’t have a handle on this situation, as they had tried to make it sound,” their dad said, angrily. “Pack your things. We leave by the end of the week.” Kayla could tell her father wasn’t really angry. He was scared.

The sound of a ding chimed loudly throughout the room.

“Darling, wait.” Their mom looked down at her phone, confused. “The notification on my phone is saying the U.S. government has announced a countrywide mandated quarantine. There’s no mention of going up North.”

The kids looked at their phones, too, noticing they got the same alert. Kayla looked over at her dad, who was looking at her mother almost pleadingly without saying a word…

“Oh, you can’t be serious,” said their mom.

“Michelle…”

“Him! You want to listen to him over our own health officials!?” Their mother took a deep breath before saying, “Kids go upstairs…”

“Kayla and Marcus didn’t move.”

“Michelle, please just listen to what I have to say.”

“So, what—you were just going to lie to me?”

Their father looked away, pained. “Some people are heading up North. It’s rumored that even some lawmakers are going there despite them not making any public announcements. It’s not just Hermit.” He took a breath, went over to their mother, and took her hands in his. “It’s a choice. Some people are staying and some people are going. My gut is telling me we should go.”

Their mother looked hard at their father for a while. The silence felt like an eternity. Both Kayla and Marcus held their breaths as they watched and waited. Please say no, Kayla thought, please say no.

“Alright,” her mother said, nodding. “If that’s what you think we should do then that’s what we’ll do.”

Their father gave a sigh of relief and hugged her.

“Okay, so where in the North are we going?” their Mom asked.

“There’s a place up North in Canada, that’s where they’re saying to go,” said their dad.

“Yes, but where? I want to look up the directions for the address.”

Their dad was silent.

“Honey?” Her mother had her phone in hand, waiting.

“Well, they weren’t specific. They just said go up North.” Her father looked away as his wife glared at him.

Their mother took another deep breath, clearly not wanting to raise her voice again. “That’s it? Just ‘head up North’? That’s absurd! Surely they’ve given us a destination or an address!”

Their father sighed and rubbed his eyes. “No, but I think once we get to the border, we’ll be given further instructions.”

Their mother plopped down on the sofa, shaking her head. “This is insane.” She said it more to herself than anyone else.

“I agree, they’re going about this in a strange way. For some reason they’re keeping the exact location undisclosed.”

“And you really think it’s safer going up there than staying here? Because we could just lay low you know, stock up on some more supplies, stay indoors like we did years back during that other—”

“I don’t think this pandemic is the same as that one. Or if it’s even a pandemic at all…” their father trailed off quietly.

Kayla moved closer to her brother, who looked over at her shaking his head with his arms crossed. She knew he was just as confused as she was.

“Well of course it’s just another pandemic! It’s a flu virus that’s spreading!” yelled their mother, her composure starting to slip.

“Is it? They haven’t actually said that the symptoms are flu-like… In fact they haven’t mentioned the symptoms at all. Have you noticed that, Michelle? What is the description of the effects? Do you know? Have you seen that information anywhere?”

“Well perhaps they don’t know yet, that more research is needed!”

“It’s been weeks since they’ve sent over virologists and epidemiologists. Other countries sent over experts earlier than we did. They know the basic symptoms by now and they are not sharing them. Either because they don’t know for certain or because they don’t want us to know. It’s eerily similar to how those countries were reluctant to report the news to their own people nearly a year ago.”

Their mother thought for a moment. “You’re right. It is odd. They’re not being very forthcoming, are they?”

“No. They’re not.”

*

Their father was right. Some governments were issuing a mandatory northern evacuation for their citizens, while others, like America, was telling people to stay in place and to quarantine. People throughout the world were livid. Some protesting the ordered evacuations while others protested the ordered quarantine. Either way it was a breach of their rights and freedoms, and nothing riles people up more than government overreach. Opinion pieces in articles were pointing out that if it’s just a disease then where were all the doctors? That the people should be hearing from them almost exclusively instead of government officials.

That wasn’t the only opinion. There were theories floating around that pharmaceutical companies unleashed a new disease to push the miracle cure they have developed later. For a hefty price.

Others thought a rebellious extremist terrorist group was on a murderous rampage, but if this was the case then why was no one arresting them? Or bombing them? It wasn’t the crimes that had people worried; it was the lack of answers.

Everyone was just guessing, even the authorities. No one actually knew what was going on. There were dead bodies with no killers. A disease with no symptoms. Drained bodies in random locations with no explanation as to how they got there, and where the hell is their blood? That was probably an answer Kayla didn’t want to know.

They started packing up their stuff the next day. They brought in their patio furniture even though summer just started. They didn’t know how long they’d be gone for. They could tell which neighbors were staying and which were going. Folks were either bringing in boxes filled with supplies they stocked up on or they were bringing out boxes to pack their cars. The Robinsons came by when they saw Trey packing his.

“You know this will probably all blow over in a couple months. You should stay. We’ll take turns making the barbecue dinners,” said Frank.

Their dad gave a small smile as he patted Frank on the shoulder. “No, we want to see what North is all about. We’re considering it our early summer getaway. You guys should reconsider, we can get adjoining bomb shelters,” he joked.

“Nah, we’re just going to hunker down here. Me and Melissa don’t want to make the trek. We’ll see you guys when you get back.”

Their dad nodded. “Yeah, see you then.”

Upstairs, Kayla was repacking her things. She didn’t need to do much, as she was already packed for her college dorm. She took out a few racy outfits she was saving for the sorority parties and the clubs she was planning on sneaking into with her friends. She looked at her crop tops and miniskirts—not outfits she wanted to wear in front of her parents—and she didn’t think she’d need them up North anyway.

Isn’t it cold up North? Like winter all the time or something like that? Sighing, she grabbed a few more long-sleeved shirts, sweaters, and hoodies from her closet. They were hung up beside the still-wrapped garment bag of her prom dress. Guess she wouldn’t be needing that either.

She sighed again. Her end-of-year plans were officially ruined. Jake from the football team was going to pick her up and they were going to join all their friends in a limo that would take them to their prom. Then after, that same limo was going to take them all to the cabin by the lake for the afterparty. Her heart was heavy. Not that she could think of a better time, but she wondered why all this had to happen to her now.

She texted her friends, asking them if they’re heading up North, too. There were mixed responses, but it seemed like most of them were going to stay, which frustrated her even more, although it comforted her that they were just as bothered and confused as she was. She recognized her mother’s calm gentle knock at her door.

“Come in,” Kayla said lazily, looking up from her phone.

“Hi. Just seeing how you’re doing. Need any help packing?”

Kayla shook her head, her suitcase laid open at the end of her bed.

“Okay, your father wants us all to be ready by the end of the week. It’ll be a long trip ahead of us and he thinks the roads will be gridlocked. I agree, as so many will be trying to get out of the city.”

Kayla rolled her eyes. “Why do we even have to go? This is so dumb.”

“I know. It’ll be an adjustment.”

“Why wouldn’t they just say where exactly it is? Why keep it a secret?”

“Must be some sort of security purpose.”

“Security from what though?” cried Kayla.

Her mom sighed. “I agree that it’s unusual, but it must be for a good reason. We’ll get answers soon enough. For now, we just have to go with what we got. Which is each other.” She kissed Kayla on the forehead.”

Kayla smiled, and looked down at her phone as it lit up and buzzed. “How does a disease even get this bad? Like to the point where the whole world freaks out?”

Her mother went to refold some of Kayla’s hastily tossed sweaters and jeans from her luggage. “Well, it usually starts when an animal or insect carrying a virus is removed from their natural habitat and then infect someone who then infects other people unknowingly. That’s how it usually spreads. Seems this one is spreading faster than they can stop it. It’s a phenomenon that’s been occurring for centuries.

“So, this will eventually end then. And things will go back to normal?” Asked Kayla.

Her mother nodded, looking over at her buzzing phone again. “Eventually, and you’ll be with your friends again soon enough.”

“What’s that Hermit guy saying about all this?” Kayla didn’t know why she cared.

“Your father said he’s gone silent. It’s rumored he went up North already since he hasn’t uploaded anything to his podcast recently.”

“Oh, now he shuts up,” Kayla joked.

“Why are you interested in what he has to say?”

Kayla shrugged. “Just curious to know if he has some idea as to how this will all end, I guess.”

“These things usually end with a cure.”

“A cure?”

“Yes, something that will help stop or slow the disease down. Once that is created, the world can go back to normal. For the most part anyways.” Her mom gave a small smile. “We just have to uproot our lives a bit.”

Kayla nodded. “Okay well let’s hope they find a cure soon then.”

Her mother smoothed down a strand of her hair. “Try to get a good rest tonight.”

*

Kayla fell asleep to the images of the drained bodies, but they were standing upright, reaching out for her wordlessly. Backing up she started running in the opposite direction until she felt something wet and squishy beneath her feet. She stepped in thick blood with bodies that had been torn apart and stacked on top of each other. Their eyes had been pecked out by crows while vultures feasted on the remains. She stared in horror and disgust at the corpse tower until she heard a growl coming from behind her. Turning around she saw nothing but blackness, but the growl was getting louder. Then, emerging from the darkness were the bright green eyes of a leopard stalking towards her. She tried to move but was stuck, frozen in place. With its claws out and teeth bared, she screamed as it pounced on her.

Chapter Eight

Kayla was awoken by a thunderous crash and shattering of glass downstairs. Startled she heard the distant screams of her mother saying, “Go get Kayla! Go!” Suddenly Marcus barged into her room.

“Get up! Hurry!” he said in a hushed tone.

“Why? What’s going on? What was that smashing sound?”

“We have to go now!” He grabbed her arm and started to rush her out. Kayla was barely able to grab her phone before he pulled her towards the door, where he stopped, opening it slowly and peeking out to see if the coast was clear. When it was, he hurried her over to his room. When they got there, he slowly shut the door so it wouldn’t make a sound closing.

“Marcus, what’s happening?”

“Shhh,” he said, worried. “There’s an intruder downstairs. Dad’s fighting him off.”

“What! Call 911 then!” Kayla looked at her phone and started to dial when she noticed the problem.

There were no bars or wi-fi signal.

“Why…. There’s no signal… Why is there no signal?” said Kayla, panicking.

“I don’t know,” said Marcus. More crashing sounds came from downstairs, as if glasses or dishes were being smashed onto the floor.

“Where’s Mom?” said Kayla, her fear rising to hysterics.

“She’s getting Damien, then coming here.”

“Why here?”

Marcus quickly nodded to his window on the other side of the room. Of course, Kayla thought. His window leads to the roof. She hurried over to it, lifted the latch, and slid it up, letting in a chilling breeze. She looked back to see her brother emerge from his closet with a wooden bat.

“What’s that for?” she whispered.

“I’m going to help Dad. Go next door and get the neighbors.”

“What? No! I’ll help too—give me something!” Kayla looked around the room frantically for something she could use as a weapon.

“No, Kayla!” Marcus gripped her arm. “Just go next door. They have guns. Go get them!”

Suddenly an agonizing scream came from downstairs. They both stared at the door as their father could be heard crying out in terrible pain.

“Do you hear that, kiddies?” yelled a gruff, low voice of a stranger. “Your daddy’s callin’ you… Why don’t you come down here and see what he wants?”

“Fuck this guy,” said Marcus angrily, and he pushed Kayla towards the window as he marched to the door. Kayla started to follow him.

“Go Kayla!” he said forcefully before shutting the door behind him.

She was filled with fear mixed with piercing rage all while tears streamed down her face. Her father was downstairs in pain. She wanted to help. Fight for him. She wanted to throttle the man hurting her father and threatening her family. She took a deep breath and got ready to climb through the window.

As Kayla was about to crawl out onto the roof, she heard her brother and mother’s screams behind her. It was closer to her this time, coming from the top of the stairs. She heard her mother’s pleas for Damien to run and hide and for Marcus not to be hurt. She was begging, screaming, “Put him down!”

The gruff voice of the stranger mockingly said, “Ok.”

There was a heavy thud, as if something was dropped over the railing. Her mother’s shrill screams started to quiet as she was being dragged down the stairs. Kayla could hear her body thumping hard on every step on the way down. Kayla’s heart was on fire. Rage coursed through her. She hurried back inside, tore the lamp out from the wall socket, and burst through her brother’s door.

It was now dark and quiet except for the distant sounds of her little brother’s wails. She tried to steady her breathing as she slowly made her way to the staircase. She crouched low, looking through the railings. She saw her brother’s still body on the hallway floor beside his bat. There were blood smears on the stairs and wall. It was eerily quiet downstairs, but she had a feeling the intruder was still in the house.

The only sound was her little brother pacing back and forth dangerously above the stairs, crying and in distress. He was rubbing his little hands together, not understanding or knowing what to do. Still crouched low she started towards him when he turned and saw her, running to her as fast as his little legs could go, screeching her name, “Lala!” The loudness of his voice was harsh amid the eerie silence.

Frightened, Kayla scooped him up and ran back to her brother’s room. He was crying and trembling.

“Shhh… it’s okay, it’s okay,” said Kayla quietly, her whole body shaking, too.

“Monster took mama away!”

Kayla’s heart sank. She put Damien under the bed and told him that she’d be right back.

“No don’t leave!” Said Damien, arms outstretched towards her.

“I’ll be right back.” She coiled the lamp cord around its thick base for a better grip and headed out the door.

She walked towards the stairs. The small creaking sounds haunted every step. She looked over the railing. Her brother was still lying there, blood seeping out from his head. Oh god is he dead!?

She hurried down the steps, seeing blood on the railing and scratches clawed into the wood. Why was it suddenly so quiet, she wondered, where is everyone, where is the intruder?

She hesitated at the bottom of the steps, listening for any signs of movement. As she headed over to her brothers’ body, she heard glass crackling in the kitchen and froze. It was him. The intruder.

She moved towards the sound but as she neared the kitchen she saw blood pooling out on the floor and into the hallway. Spinning around frantically, she looked for the intruder, but she saw no one and nothing except for the sight of blood. It was making her sick.

Entering the kitchen, she saw her father’s body lying there mangled, his eyes open, staring at nothing. She rushed towards him, stifling a sob. Kayla tossed the lamp aside and dropped to her knees beside him. She couldn’t control her cries as she tried to gently shake her father back to life.

“No… no, please, Dad.”

Her father’s leg had been crushed. Shards of glass were embedded in this body and his neck had been twisted. So distraught, Kayla didn’t notice that she had cut her hand from one of the sharp pieces of glass scattered over the floor. She tried to check for a pulse, for signs of breathing—anything.

She was trying to think, her hands shaking as she rocked back and forth. What do you do? CPR! Her eyes swept over his chest, where shards of glass were embedded. I need to take the shards out first, she thought as she gently pulled some out.

“What do I do?” she sobbed. “Dad.” She looked at his eyes, but they wouldn’t focus on her. They would never focus on anything again.

There were soft footsteps coming from the other side of the kitchen island. Kayla looked up slowly and saw her mother’s grief-stricken face, blood and tear stained. “Don’t hurt her,” her mother said.

Kayla didn’t understand. A figure appeared behind her mother. A man with crimson-smudged lips curled up in a menacing sneer held her mother’s arm. Kayla rose up slowly, grabbing the lamp and putting it behind her back as she did so. She was still shaking but was trying to keep her composure. She looked at the man’s other hand—he must have a gun or knife to her back. There’s a reason why her mother isn’t fighting back.

“You’re pretty like your mama,” the man said suddenly. “Looks like you got your father’s eyes, though. Speaking of which, sorry about your dear papa there. He was putting up quite a nasty fight. I tried to get him to calm down but…” The man shrugged with a chuckle.

“Fuck you!” Kayla yelled at him as they slowly circled each other around the kitchen island, her steps making a crackling sound on the broken glass as she walked. The man moved silently, his eyes never leaving hers when her mother made a sudden movement towards the counter, causing the man to violently jerk her back. Her mother winced out in pain, but her eyes were on fire.

“Whoa now, where do you think you’re going?”

In the struggle Kayla saw that the man didn’t have a gun or a knife. He didn’t have anything in his hands except for the one gripping her mother’s arm. Kayla readied herself. She just needed to get close enough to hit him over the head. One good hit, that’s all she needed. She looked at her mother, whose eyes were pleading with her in desperation.

“Kayla he’s not…” Her mother grimaced, wincing in pain again as the man tightened his grip.

“Let’s not ruin the surprise.” He growled, as he held her mother close.

Infuriated, Kayla didn’t wait. She lunged at him, hoping for a clear shot of his face, but he caught her arm in a swift motion as she held the lamp over his head, his grip constricting her arm tighter and tighter. Kayla tried to struggle, the lamp shattering on the floor as she lost her hold of it, the pain becoming almost unbearable.

She stood frozen, and a smiled crept over his lips. “Well now, you didn’t teach this one any manners.”

Taking part of a broken dish she had hidden, her mother plunged it into his neck. The man cried out, setting Kayla free, but he didn’t let go of his grip on her mother as she struggled out of his hold.

“Run, Kayla, go!” her mother cried.

Kayla made a break for the front door. Her hand was outstretched for the door handle when out of nowhere, with lightning speed, the man appeared before her, blocking her path. It was like she blinked and he was there.

“That’s not possible,” she whispered, backing up slowly as he moved towards her.

His eyes were dark but there was a luminous glint to them. Something within them was unsettling as he stared at her. He was dirty, tall, towering over her, with crusted blood stains on his shirt.

“Don’t… Don’t come closer!” she said. She turned and ran down the hall into the living room. When she got there, she saw her mother lying face down on the floor. Before Kayla had time to react, she felt him behind her, pulling her head back towards him, close enough that she could smell the disgusting scent of metallic rust on his breath.

He sniffed her. “I bet you taste as good as you smell,” he whispered.

Before she could do anything, he grabbed her by the throat. Kayla felt the piercing sting of something sharp tearing at the flesh in her neck. As it plunged deeper, she cried out from the searing pain. She tried to struggle out of his grasp but then just as suddenly as the pain came, there was a dizzying feeling that set in. The pain started to fade away and she could feel herself get lighter—weaker—her vision going into a blurry haze. In her grogginess she faintly heard the man wail in pain and heard a familiar voice from behind yell out.

“Get off her you sick fuck!” She fell limply to the ground and tried to get her sense of direction. Following the voices, she looked behind her and saw Marcus, face to face with the dirty man, swinging his bat wildly.

The man was dodging the blows deftly, with inhuman speed. Catching his breath her brother was in front of Kayla now, taking up the space between the two, holding the bat up.

“Get out!” Her brother yelled at him.

The dirty man laughed. Wiping blood from his mouth, he looked at the bat and smirked. “Go on. Give it your best shot. Let’s see if you can get another hit in.”

Marcus swung the bat with all his speed and strength, but it wasn’t enough, as the man yanked the bat out from his hands and said, “My turn.”

Kayla tried to do something. Her vision was still blurry, and she couldn’t get her legs or arms to move. She watched as Marcus was pushed to the ground. She saw the man raise the bat up in the air, then swing it down full force upon him. She watched this over and over and over again. The wooden bat getting redder in the haze. She felt the splatter of something wet hit her face. She tried to yell “stop” but couldn’t form the words. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t do anything.

There were footsteps of someone else entering the room. “You good here?”

The dirty man looked down and tossed the bat aside, satisfied. “Yeah. Where the hell have you been?”

The man shrugged. “One of the neighbors had a gun. They’re in the truck now.” Surveying the room, he sighed heavily. “I got all of them in the truck.”

“What?”

“What you mean what?” The man pointed to a spot on the floor. “What the hell you do that for? And I saw the mess you made in the kitchen.”

“Bugger had it coming. Came at me with a bat. What was I supposed to do?”

“Come on, man. If you keep doing this shit, we’re going to run out.”

“Nah, there’s still a few billion left.”

“Yes, but every one you kill is one less profit. You’re costing us business every—” The man stopped and walked towards Kayla.

He stooped low enough that she could see his piercing blue eyes as he studied her. “Awe fuck, man, you did it again, didn’t you? What the hell is wrong with you?” said the man, clearly infuriated.

“Whoa—chill.” The dirty man had his hands up. “That’s not what happened, alright. I swear.”

“Yeah? Then why she limp like that, huh? Think I’m stupid?”

“I just hit her too hard over the head with the bat.”

“Yeah, well she better live. Come on, let’s get them in the truck.”

“Wait. I’ll take that one,” the dirty man said, “moving closer to Kayla.”

“Fine—whatever. So what we have here? Just these two?”

Suddenly they stopped moving and went silent. Kayla saw the second man put a finger to his mouth in a shushing motion, cocking his head to the side. “Ah there’s another one.”

“Shit. Almost forgot about that one.”

“Sounds young. Going to be worth a lot.”

Tears streamed down Kayla’s face. The edges of her sight blurred and dimmed. With darkness shrouding her vision, the last thing she saw before blacking out, was the two men heading for the stairs.

Chapter Nine

Kayla regained consciousness in near total darkness. The dank smell of strangers’ sweat and body odor was overwhelming. She placed a hand over her nose as if that would keep the stink out. It was loud. Other people’s voices were speaking all at once, echoing each other in the cramped space. It took her a while to gather where she was, but the bumpiness of her whereabouts made her realize she must be in the back of a truck. She almost slammed her head against the wall as they went over what must have been a pothole.

It was sweltering and her pajamas were sticking to her skin. She could tell she was squished between strangers whose faces she could barely see in the dim lighting, even with her eyes starting to adjust. She closed her eyes, as she was still feeling groggy and weak. She didn’t know where they were taking her or who ‘they’ even were. She wondered if her mother was somewhere in the dank truck. She shut her eyes, trying to remember the previous night when sudden images of her brother’s and father’s mangled bodies flashed in her mind, as the memory of what happened trickled back in. Finding it hard to breath she pushed the memories back and tried to focus on the voices of the shadowy figures around her.

“It’s been hours,” someone whispered.

“I know.”

“Where are they taking us?”

A baby wailed in the distance.

Suddenly, the truck made a turn, and Kayla inadvertently leaned against the stranger next to her. The people around her started whispering more loudly and became more frantic. Everyone was fearful now that they knew they had arrived at their destination. There were muffled voices coming from outside along with the slam of the truck’s side door, which shook the inside of the entire vehicle.

The back door slid up, letting in the blinding light from the early morning sun, illuminating the huddled group of people packed inside.

“What do you want from us?” someone from inside called out.

A voice at the end of the truck said, “Alright, gather them up and store ‘em.”

Suddenly a group of men and women marched up to the truck and started grabbing hold of people’s arms and legs, pulling them out. Some struggled while trying to ask questions that these people had no intention of answering. Kayla watched as people were being pulled out with ease. A woman used one arm to grip a man by his leg, pulling him out as though he was weightless. Some people were determined to not go easily, preferring to be dragged out screaming. Then there were others who got up and hopped off compliantly.

Kayla struggled getting up to her feet and staggered a bit as she tried to move. Shielding her eyes from the brightness of the sun. Her body was stiff and sticky with sweat and blood, and she was unsteady. Leaning against the side, she wondered why she was so dizzy. She must have hit her head.

“Hey, you, let’s go,” yelled one of the men.

Kayla looked up to see he was addressing her. She started walking slowly towards them. A man casually dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with sunglasses grabbed her with one arm, pulling her out roughly. Swinging her over the edge, where she landed hard on the cement ground. She looked up to see a large warehouse that must have been a factory at some point. It was in a city she didn’t recognize. She could hear faint screaming from people inside, and her terror started to rise again.

She joined the line and walked towards the open doors, debating whether she should try to run or keep moving forward. She looked around and saw that the people who were fighting and trying to get away were getting beaten and dragged in. Some were even hauled over shoulders like sacks of flour. She decided to be like the others who were despondent, so she chose to walk inside willingly. If kicking and screaming wasn’t going to do much, she may as well keep moving. At least for now.

The warehouse was bricked with red colored clay, with vegetation and vines having marked it as its territory long ago. The windows were dark and dusty, and Kayla couldn’t see inside. She passed by a cracked, weathered stone statue, with a basin surrounding what was once a tall ornamental figure. It was placed on the lawn out front like a centerpiece. It was covered in green moss, with overgrown vines snaking all around it. Kayla couldn’t make out the shape, as some large stone chunks had fallen off.

“Hurry up!” someone barked at her, as while looking around she had unknowingly come to a stop.

Speeding up and looking through the crowd Kayla saw her mother up ahead, holding Damien on her hip. Damien looked back at her and stretched his arm out towards her, mouthing something. Her mother quickly turned back, and a wave of relief washed over Kayla at the sight of her. From where she stood, she could tell her mother had a bruised cheek and busted lip.

Her mother started to turn back when a woman also wearing dark shades and standing guard off to the side yelled at her, “Hey! Keep it moving!”

Kayla could tell her mother was slowing her pace down for her to catch up, so she quickened her own, almost going into a slow jog, moving past those in front of her. When she caught up to her mother, she squeezed her hand tight.

“What is this place?” Kayla whispered.

“I don’t know.”

As they shuffled in, they saw the warehouse was filled with steel bar cages that were enclosed at the top. They were lined along the sides of the warehouse, spanning from the front of the space to the back. People were looking around, frantic and frightened, as they were herded inside. Are they going to put us in one of those? thought Kayla.

Overwhelmed, she caught a strong whiff of the stench of body odor and the revolting smells of excrement, urine, and blood. She moved closer to her mother. They were following the crowd to the end, passing looks of terrified and distressed people along the way, their cages already full. As they neared the end of the warehouse, they saw a few cages along the wall with open doors, waiting to be filled.

Suddenly someone grabbed Kayla. “No, you go in that one,” he said.

“No, please, I’m with her!” She looked at her mom, who reached out for her, but another person grabbed her mother and pushed her towards a different cage. Her little brother started to shriek as he grasped their mother’s neck more tightly, refusing to let go. Luckily, he didn’t have to, as they were apparently allowed to be caged together.

Kayla lost sight of her mother in the crowd as she was pushed into another cage. She looked at the frightened faces of the other people in there with her. Some were huddled together while others stood alone. A few were badly beaten and were in serious need of medical care.

It was then that Kayla noticed something peculiar amongst the people she was crowded with. They were all young like her, close to her age. She turned to look out at the other cages again, this time looking at the occupants more closely.

“It’s not random,” she whispered to herself. “They’re dividing the people up by age.”

School-aged or adolescent children were huddled in a cage across from her. No parents or accompanying adults were with them. She looked beside her cage and saw another cage filled with teenagers and young adults like her. Looking to her other side, peering past the people in her own cage, she noticed that they were parents with babies and toddlers. She stood on her tiptoes and saw that her mother was against the side of that cage, trying to get Kayla’s attention.

“Mom!”

Kayla walked past the other teenagers in her cage. She was careful not to step on anyone’s toes or on the backs of those lying down. She passed by people who were crying hysterically, while others just stared blankly at nothing, their clothes smeared and spattered with blood, clearly traumatized from the horrors they endured before they got there. Both her and her mother inched their way to the farthest back corner of their cages where there seemed to be some room for them to meet by the steel bars.

“Mom, what are we going to do?”

“We need to know what they intend to do with us first and then we’ll go from there,” said her mom.

Damien reached out for Kayla through the bars. Kayla linked her fingers with his, her eyes welling up with tears. “Dad and Marcus…” she started to say before being overcome with a sob.

“I know,” said her mom, her voice breaking, “I know.” Tears started to fall down her face, too.

They gave themselves a few moments to grieve while staying as close to each other as their cages would allow.

Kayla kept getting pushed and nudged as more people were being ushered into her cage. She was starting to grow increasingly uneasy, her breathing quickening from the lack of space. Her heart started to beat louder and louder in her ears as the area around her was getting smaller and smaller.

“Hey, look at me.”

Kayla looked her mother in the eyes.

“We’re going to make it through this. Okay?”

Kayla took a deep breath and nodded, trying hard to find the strength and determination she saw in her mother’s eyes.

“Remember what your father—” Her mother paused, stifling a sob and taking a breath. “The border up North. That’s where we need to go. It’s where he wanted us to go.”

“How?” said Kayla. “We’re locked up!”

“I know, honey, we have to stay strong, and then when we get the chance, we have to run.” Damien tightened his tiny grip around Kayla’s fingers. “Whatever happens, we go North, that’s where we run to, Kayla. Do you understand?”

Kayla nodded. “I understand.”

“Good. How are you feeling?” her mother asked, trying to survey her wounds and bruises.

Kayla’s hand went to the wound on her neck that had been throbbing terribly. “This cut, it’s not bleeding or anything—it’s just really sore.”

“Here, let me see.”

Kayla titled her neck to give her mom a better look. After a while, she noticed her mother had suddenly gone quiet.

“Mom?” Kayla wondered why she hadn’t said anything yet.

After a moment her mom finally said, “Yes, it looks—it does look painful, but it doesn’t seem too deep.” Her mother looked away with a deeply troubled expression.

“Hey, it doesn’t hurt that much,” said Kayla quickly. She imagined her mother’s bruised cheek and busted lip were more painful.

Her mother looked at her with a soft smile and glistening eyes. “I’m glad.”

After everyone from the truck was put away, a casually dressed man with sunglasses asked, “We done?”

“No, we’re still waiting on one more delivery,” a woman replied causally.

“What’s taking them so long?”

“They’ve hit some rough patches, but they should be here within the hour. Let’s go find some lunch while we wait. You and you,” she pointed to some men who were dressed all in black, “keep watch outside. Don’t let anyone in unless they’ve been cleared.”

“Wait where are you going?” somebody cried out from their cage. “Don’t leave us locked up here please!”

“What do you want with us?” someone else asked.

Again, they were all ignored.

Kayla wondered why they even bothered. The mysterious group left, shutting the large, metal cage doors behind them.

As it was just the people in the cages left, everyone started talking to one another.

“What the hell are those things!?” yelled a middle-aged man somewhere across the room.

“Could they be aliens?” answered another young man.

“No, it’s that disease. The one they were talking about on the news.”

“Exactly. They are not themselves! They’re sick!” yelled a young, brunette woman.

“Yeah, of course they’re not themselves. They’re aliens. Aliens have taken over the planet!”

“What the hell are you people talking about? They’re just fucked up people! We’re being trafficked!”

“Surely, we would have seen a UFO—”

“For goodness’ sake it’s not aliens! They’re infected. They’re sick!” cried the brunette woman again.

“Yeah, damn right these people are sick.”

The conversations continued. It was hard to tell the voices apart, as they all insisted on yelling and arguing over each other. Kayla tried to piece together what she knew. They still looked human to her, and it was most likely related to the cases her father had been keeping track of.

Something else was nagging at Kayla, but she couldn’t quite figure out what. Every time she tried to think back to the night before, the same brutal images would crash into her mind—her father’s lifeless body, the sickening motion of the bloody bat slamming down on Marcus. She shook her head and tried to focus on something else.

Looking toward the front of her cage, Kayla noticed that some people weren’t even bothering with conversation anymore—they were trying to pick the locks instead. For a moment, she thought someone had managed to jimmy one open, but then the hair clip they were using snapped, and a collective groan echoed from the group.

“It’s no use. They’ve reinforced the locks,” someone said.

“Try the side of the cages. Maybe there’s a weak link somewhere.” Everyone spread out and scattered as they tried to shake apart the sides, checking for any loose sections of the steel bars. Meanwhile the other conversations continued…

“They’re eating our flesh like zombies! I saw it with my own eyes!”

“They’re fucking aliens and we’re fucking screwed,” said a man in the same cage as her mother. Her mother placed her hands over Damien’s ears, still holding him close.

“It was supposed to just be a disease that was going around. They said it was being contained, then they quickly shifted the narrative, and suddenly we had to stay indoors or go up North!” Kayla didn’t know who was speaking, but she nodded her head in agreement.

Someone scoffed loudly from the other side of the building. “I’m telling you right now. I bet up there in the North is where they’re infecting us with this shit! If they want us to go North, I’m going South!” Kayla’s mother nudged her through the bars, shaking her head. Kayla understood. Don’t listen to them. Go North.

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” said the brunette woman from earlier. “It’s a sickness and we need to find a cure or some kind of antidote for these people!”

“Good God, lady, will you give it a rest? Look around. A cure will do fuck all!” said the same guy in her mother’s cage.

“It could take away their powers, though,” said a black man a couple of cages down from Kayla’s.

“Yo, what you talking about Clarence?”

The yelling quieted and people hushed down as he continued. “Did you guys see how strong they are? How fast they can move?”

Something about this triggered Kayla’s memory. The night before, when she tried to reach the front door… Then out of nowhere… The man blocked her way. It was impossible for him to get there before she did.

Suddenly the culmination of all the conversations started swimming in her head. It’s a disease. They’re feeding on us! We need a cure! They’re infected. They’re not themselves!

Kayla raised her hand to the cut on her neck. Only it wasn’t a cut. She remembered now. The man standing behind her. The sharp pain. Blood dripping down his mouth. Her breathing quickened and her heart started pounding in her ears. Her body went cold. She tried to steady her breath as she noticed another person eyeing her suspiciously as she held her neck. She quickly removed her hand and swept her hair over her shoulder to cover the mark.

This was a disease.

And she had been bitten.

Chapter Ten

The thought of being infected repulsed Kayla. She absolutely refused the notion. She didn’t feel any different. She felt weaker, not stronger, and she would have loved to have been able to outrun the dirty man. She couldn’t help but think she should test the theory or possibility. She noticed other people in her cage were still trying to check the sides, pushing on the bars for a weak link. Kayla decided to test the bars behind her. She stood up calmly then gripped the bar, feeling a bit stupid, then pushed with all her might, using every ounce of strength she had. Nothing happened. It didn’t budge. There, she thought to herself. I’m not sick.

“Kayla, what are you doing?” her mother asked, peering up at her.

“I was just checking to see if there are any weak areas on the cage.” She sat back down. “I think this cage is pretty solid, though.”

“The people who put us in here, they probably wouldn’t use flimsy cages,” said her mother, looking around at the folks still trying the side bars or picking at the locks. “This isn’t their first time.”

“How do you know?”

Her mother sighed “Because something tells me that this particular kind of trafficking has been going on for a while now.”

Kayla glanced back at the cage with the small kids. The missing children. She nodded, finally understanding. “It was all connected,” she whispered.

“Yes, and your father knew, and he tried…” Her mother’s voice broke. “He tried to tell us but—”

“Hey, Mom.” Kayla reached into her cage to wipe a tear from her mother’s bruised cheek. “Don’t cry, please.”

Her mother sniffled. “I’m sorry, I just… I wish I listened to your father. Paid more attention to what he was trying to tell me. We could have left sooner… before…”

“This is crazy, Mom. No way anyone could see this coming.”

“Mama don’t be sad,” cooed Damien, looking up at his mother.

Her mother gave a soft smile back. “You’re right.”

The infected folks came back with another batch of frightened, distressed people. It wasn’t as many as from their previous haul. The additions left Kayla more cramped in her cage. The sounds were loud as people were crying and shouting in the confusion. After the clangs of the last cage doors were heard, the mysterious group left them there alone. The large metal doors to the factory were closed shut behind them, leaving them in the sweltering heat and setting sun.

“There’s something I don’t understand, Mom,” whispered Kayla, as she leaned her head against the cage. “It’s not just kids here. There are adults too.”

“I noticed that. There must be a reason.”

“But weren’t the adults…” Kayla hesitated. “Weren’t they the ones found dead, drained of their blood?”

Her mother shut her eyes tight. “Don’t think about that now.” She tightened her grip on Kayla’s hand while snuggled with Damien.

The sun started to dim through the dusty, old windows. Kayla, her mother, and Damien huddled together in their corner. Every once in a while, she caught her mother shed a few tears before quickly brushing them away. She was also feeling the heaviness in her chest from the loss of the greatest men she ever knew. Flashes of their final moments kept trying to force their way into her thoughts, overwhelming her with grief. Kayla refused to let the memories in. She knew if she did, she would drown in her despair.

“What are you doing!?”

Kayla was jolted back to reality, having dozed off. Looking beside her, she saw an older couple arguing three cages over. There was a man getting up and trying to move towards the front of his cage, seemingly wanting to stand by the door. A hysterical woman was trying to hold him back.

“I’m moving to the front of the damn cage. It’s going to start soon,” said the man.

“Why!?” shrieked the woman.

“So they can see me! That’s the only way to get out of here, Beth.”

Kayla noticed her mother was watching them make a scene, too. What did he mean it was going to start soon? What was?

Kayla looked around and noticed some people were making their way to the back of their cages. While others, like her, looked at them with confusion. The ones already at the back huddled together, trying to stay as low as possible. She herself was getting more squished in as some in her own cage were backing up and ducking down. A rare few straightened up and headed to the front. Squaring up to the door readying themselves for something.

Kayla’s heart started to race. Dear God, what’s about to start?

Chapter Eleven

The warehouse doors opened again, and another mysterious group entered. The sun was nearly set now and these people weren’t wearing sunglasses. They were different from the ones that ushered them in earlier. Kayla heard gasps and screams from the cages around her—and she knew why.

At first glance, these people looked human, but something was off. It was their eyes.

Their eyes were different. Inhuman. Monstrous looking. A distorted shade of what might have been their previous color. One man, dressed in a deep navy suit, had brown eyes flecked with bright hues of gold—they were luminescent and unsettling.

Kayla’s gaze shifted to a line of women in dresses standing off to the side. Even from afar, their eyes seemed to glow. One pair was an icy pale blue, another a startling lime green—a jarring contrast against the complexion of their skin.

Kayla couldn’t tell if the skin looked paler because their eyes were brighter or if the eyes looked brighter because their skin was paler. Either way, these weren’t humans.

They were something else.

Kayla’s hand drifted to her neck, and she rubbed it mindlessly.

More of the infected walked in. These ones were wearing dark shades and dressed all in black. They carried carbon steel batons, which they hit and slammed against the metal bars with sharp, echoing bangs. Each deafening bang sent waves of panic through the cages—and they laughed when people flinched in terror.

“Alright, everyone,” yelled the man in the navy suit. “We’re opening up soon, and they’re already gathering out back. Let’s get everything set up.”

There were scraping of tables on the floor as they were pushed together to form one long table down the far side of the warehouse. Kayla craned her neck and watched them drag chairs towards it. Men in formal white collared shirts carrying strongboxes lined up and placed them down on the table. Then backing up, they took standing positions behind and waited while some women took their seats at the section of the table with the strongboxes.

“Are we doing all the exchanges here or shipping them out?” asked one of the collared workers.

There were men in black standing outside the cages now—one man to each cage, Kayla noticed. Another chill ran through her.

“We’ll exchange as much as we can tonight then ship out the rest tomorrow,” said the man dressed in the navy suit. “The disruption with our delivery today means we have to change locations sooner than expected.”

After one last look around—nitpicking until he was satisfied and pointing out a few mistakes—”Keep this area uncluttered so they have a clear path… Make sure that section doesn’t get too crowded… And you guys, don’t forget to spread out…” He finally shouted, “Alright, let them in!”

A huge sliding door opened. The people murmuring and yelling in the cages quieted as everyone waited in dread, worried about what was going to happen.

A group of people sauntered in. Some wore furs and high-quality tailored clothing—fancy garments, like they were planning to go out to a party later. They moved confidently and with familiarity—they knew what they were doing and where they were going. A few of them broke off from the group and headed over to a cage before looking back annoyed, realizing they couldn’t start anything yet. They came back to their group and waited with everyone else.

There were others, who were dressed more casually, trailing behind hesitantly. They clutched their bags and suitcases tightly, like a prized possession they worried would be violently taken from their hands.

Despite the mix of outfits and ethnicities, Kayla noticed the visitors shared the same eyes as the infected group who kept them captive—only darker, duller, and less luminous. Some even looked almost normal, but their pale features stood out beneath their jittery, anxious demeanors. They too were clutching their purses or cases fiercely.

A few stragglers, more composed, had the same bright hue in their eyes as the infected and moved with a confident stride. They all gathered in the center of the warehouse, forming a loose line in front of the man in the suit, though their eyes kept drifting, scanning the cages.

“Oh God, there are more than there were yesterday,” Kayla heard a girl from her cage whisper.

“Just keep your head down,” someone whispered back.

The guy in the suit addressed the visiting crowd with a microphone. “Welcome. I see a few familiar faces—welcome back. Before we start I have to mention that this exchange will be the last in this city, then we need to move out due to some recent complications.”

There were some groans from the crowd. “I know, I know. These pop-up sales are hard to come by and keep track of, but soon we’ll have permanent locations. Now some of you have already been through the process and know what to expect, but for newcomers, I’ll go over the rules and procedures. If you look behind you and around me, you’ll see cages differentiated by age groups. Walk around, take a look, and see if any interest you. If any do, you will then head over to the lovely ladies over there…”

Kayla followed his finger as he pointed to the far side of the room, directing everyone’s attention to the women at the long table, who stood up, smiled, and waved.

“Line up over there and they will help you finalize the exchange. You can also negotiate based on what you have to offer and determine the quantity. Once things are finalized and arrangements are made, you will be set up with one of our providers—or as I like to call them, fetchers,” he joked.

Some of the crowd laughed along. Kayla wasn’t laughing but her adrenaline surged as she stared, fixated at these so called “fetchers,” with brass keys dangling from their belts.

“Mom!” Kayla whispered, “They’re the key holders! On their belts! See?”

“Yes, I saw,” her mother whispered back. “Stay quiet.”

The man in the suit continued, “The fetchers are stationed behind the ladies. and you will lead one of them to the cage you chose. Once there, they will unlock and collect your choice, picking out the one you prefer. Remember, it’s first come first serve. That being said, we expect a respectful and civil process. We will not tolerate any physical altercations. If there is a situation in which two or more of you desire the same choice, and you cannot work it out amicably, then it will go into a bidding war. The one who presents the most valuable offer wins. This is decided entirely by the ladies at the table, and their decision is final and not refutable.”

Wins what? Kayla’s stomach churned—deep down she knew the answer. There was only one thing in these cages that could be bid on.

“Lastly, we have guards stationed at every cage. They are here to maintain order. Let’s keep them bored, shall we?” More chuckles from the crowd. “We thank you for your cooperation. Now, before we begin, are there any questions?”

“I have one. What the fuck is wrong with you people?” yelled a man a few cages down from Kayla’s. Other people began to scream and shout in protest—until the sharp clang of a cage door opening cut through the noise, followed by the sickening thuds of a baton striking someone Kayla couldn’t see.

Standing on her tiptoes, Kayla could see a man in black raise his baton and swing it down hard against something. She quickly looked away, feeling queasy. The man’s groans, mingled with terrified screams from those around him, echoed through the room. Another loud metallic bang cut through the commotion as a baton slammed against a cage, quieting everyone down.

“What do you accept as currency?” asked someone from the bright-eyed crowd.

“Do you still accept credit or cash?” another yelled out desperately.

“You’ll find we are very flexible with our forms of payments. Our currency rates are quite reasonable. We accept money, transportation tickets, properties. Various types of vehicles—aircrafts, watercrafts, trucks—we even swap—”

“Do you accept fine jewelry?” a slender Indonesian woman asked.

“Yes, we do, but you will need to head over to our appraiser in the backroom. Just ask any of our helpers and they can escort you. Our helpers are the ones in dark green shirts. They will be walking around, making themselves available for anyone who require their assistance.”

Kayla saw the helpers scattered around the warehouse, with fake smiles plastered on their faces as they waited in their khakis, looking like this was just another nine to five for them… Kayla tried to gauge how much time had passed. It felt like it had to be past a day shift and closer to a night shift by now. Are these things nocturnal?

“What’s the property exchange rate?” asked a man with a southern accent.

“Properties can yield up to two to three. The larger the property value, the better. You’ll just need to show the deed or proof of ownership. You can get up to four to five if the property is a farm, as acreage is highly lucrative and desired these days.”

Murmurs of agreement came from the crowd.

Kayla looked at her mother absolutely dumbfounded. “Why on earth would these people need a farm?”

“Alright any further inquiries can be directed to my helpers. You are free to get started, enjoy,” the suited guy added with a smile.

The crowd dispersed, going off in different directions, making their way to the cages. They peered in like spectators looking at fish in an aquarium, watching those in the cages flounder under their scrutiny and try to scurry out of their sights. Other buyers—the infected with the darkest eyes—looked into the cages like they were browsing the best cut of meat at a steakhouse or the freshest looking lobster in a tank.

Many people yelled and spit at them from their cages, cursing and cussing, slamming their hands against the bars. This didn’t seem to bother the buyers—even the anxious and jittery ones barely flinched. When someone in the cage got too out of hand, a man in black would open the cage, take that person out, and give them a beating. One or two strikes was all that was needed before they were tossed back in—it was enough to silence not just the offender but others in their cages as well.

Kayla could hear people crying and praying. She noticed there was a heavy concentration of the infected near her and her mother’s cage—she couldn’t see inside the cage filled with the young children, as the cage was completely surrounded.

Kayla noticed a few of the infected were lined up at the long table already. She watched as each of them waited their turn for one of the ladies to raise their hand and signal the next in line could step forward. After some conversation and exchanging of valuables, the lady would summon one of the fetchers waiting behind them. Kayla watched as a fetcher would then walk with the buyer toward their selected cage, but she lost sight of them in the crowd. Kayla stood up, trying to regain her view of them.

“Kayla, don’t!” her mother hissed. Kayla could feel her mother tugging at the bottom hem of her pajama shirt through the cage’s bars. “Stay down,” she whispered fiercely.

“I… I just want to see,” Kayla whispered back. Though she remained crouched, she still caught glimpses of the buyer and his assigned fetcher. The dark-eyed man pointed to one of the young children in the crowded cage. The fetcher opened it up while a man in black stood guard close to its entrance. As the crowd of buyers moved aside during this exchange, a few of them rushed over to line up, now eager to make their own claims. Kayla could see the children in the cage were huddled close together, terrified. The fetcher picked up a little boy and brought him out. He then handed him over to the buyer, and they nodded and shook hands before the buyer walked out. The child looked back, scared and searching for his mother.

“Where are you taking that child?” adults in another cage yelled out. “Where are his parents?”

Before squatting back down, Kayla noticed a few cages in the far corner of the warehouse that were completely unattended. Buyers just walked by without a second glance. Kayla envied how spacious their cages were, as they were not as packed as all the others.

“What did you see?” her mother asked.

“They handed a child over to a stranger, who just walked right on out.” Kayla shook her head.

Her mother looked at her with a grave expression as she tried to process what she heard. “That’s madness,” she finally whispered.

“They’re mostly looking at our cages,” Kayla continued. “The ones with the old men and women—there’s no one looking at them. I guess they don’t want older people for whatever reason.”

Kayla’s mother looked away, venturing deep into thought.

“They’re probably selling us to be slaves,” said Kayla angrily. “The farms! They probably want slaves to work on those farms!”

“They don’t want the elderly, they want the children,” her mother muttered to herself. “It was children who were going missing. That’s when this all started. But why?”

“Perverts,” Kayla mumbled under her breath.

Her mother shifted her body so that her back faced the front of her cage, continuing to cradle Damien, who had been sleeping this whole time in her lap.

Understanding what her mother was doing, Kayla repositioned herself and shuffled closer towards the corner of her own cage, covering Damien from her side. Between the two of them, her little brother was well hidden.

Chapter Twelve

The hours passed, filled with screaming and crying as people were taken away. Some people tried to ambush the fetcher every time their cage opened. When Kayla’s mother’s cage was opened and the fetcher reached for a toddler, she clutched Damien tighter. Around her, other parents rose up to help fight alongside the parent whose arms the child is being torn away from.

It was all in vain, as one of the workers could easily toss any of the parents aside. Kayla tried to keep her head down, but it was hard not to watch them fight. It was terrifying how truly helpless they all were—and how callous the guards were, always agitated and annoyed when people tried to fight. rolling their eyes while they tossed people aside like pesky bugs.

Is this what the sickness does? What it turns people into?

Kayla’s own cage was being opened so frequently as there was shuffling and renewed cries from the front whenever a fetcher came back. Kayla no longer looked up to check what was happening now that the number of people in her cage was dwindling so quickly. She tried to imagine what she’d do if she got picked. She’d try to make a run for it once they got outside.

The screams coming from her mother’s cage were the worst. Parents were shrieking and fighting to keep their children. In that cage there was a large, tatted, burly man, with a scruffy black beard and muscular bare arms—someone who’d be able to fight off anyone who looks at him the wrong way. He was holding a little blonde girl around the same age as Damien.

They came for that little girl.

The fetcher unlocked the cage door and pushed aside parents who rushed it with ease, and walked over to the burly man. That man was ready. He pushed the fetcher back up against the cage bars, and other parents took the opportunity to jump on him. But it was all in vain, as a guard rushed in.

Parents tried to take him down, but it was no use. One hit with the guard’s baton and the parent was on the floor of the cage, writhing in pain. The burly man took him on, dodging the swings of the baton, and trying to keep space between them, which was hard to do since there wasn’t much space in the cage to begin with. The burly man didn’t care—he wasn’t going down without a fight. He waited, bided his time, focusing on each swing of the baton to time his swift dodges. To Kayla it looked like the guard was playing with him.

As the guard and burly man circled each other, someone tried to make a break for it through the open cage door—a woman whose child was snatched away earlier. This distracted the guard long enough for the burly man to charge him and tackle him hard to the ground, causing him to drop his baton. It rolled away and another parent rushed to grab it. The guard violently tossed some of the parents attacking him aside and shook off his remaining attackers, managing to get to his fallen baton first. He stomped on the baton, pinning it down before anyone could grab it. He then grabbed the person who had gone for it and hurled him against the back of the cage. He landed so close to Kayla’s mom that the impact made her flinch beside him.

Disoriented, the guard staggered to his feet and touched his lip. The burly man actually drew blood from his stony face. But he recovered quickly, catching the next kick and flipping the burly man hard onto his back. The guard started to punch him, railing on him over and over.

Kayla shut her eyes. Tears were streaming down her face, but she didn’t dare scream.

“Make it stop, make it stop!” someone begged.

“That’s enough,” the fetcher finally said, just as the guard raised his bloodied fist for another blow. The fetcher held the little girl in one hand and held out the guard’s baton in the other.

He grabbed it, and together they walked out of the cage.

“Daddy!” the little girl cried out. The burly man—his face puffy, bloodied, and bruised, with only one good eye open—was crying as he watched his child handed over to a bright-eyed woman with a foreign accent. She took the child eagerly and walked briskly away, passing the parent who tried to flee earlier, who was screaming as a guard dragged her by her hair along the concrete floor.

Kayla kept her eyes closed as she heard the cage door slam shut and the harsh snap of the lock.

We’re in hell.

Every so often, Kayla glanced up at her mother, who met her with a steady, reassuring gaze. They exchanged no words, not wanting to bring attention to themselves. It quickly became clear that it was their cages that were most desired, to the point where guards just stood outside the door, keeping it unlocked. Multiple fetchers were lined up and queued at their cages and the ones that held the young children, while anxious, beady, bright-eyed buyers watched nervously to make sure their choice wasn’t taken.

For the most part, caged people were ignored, but when one parent yelled out, “Where are you taking her?” after a fetcher took her child, the bright-eyed buyer turned and said, “Don’t worry, they’ll be well looked after.”

Kayla noticed that buyers with the brightest colored eyes seemed the least aggressive—they weren’t as agitated as their dark-eyed counterparts. The bright-eyed buyers were calmer and less twitchy. Some dark-eyed buyers clutched at their stomachs as if in pain, their eyes nearly black, while others let out random guttural growls that were never heard from a bright-eyed buyer. Kayla thought this was interesting, because the dark-eyed buyers looked more human yet were the ones that acted more monstrously.

After what felt like an eternity, the cries and shouting from the cages had become more muted now that the number of captives had dwindled. Kayla noticed she had more space in her cage, which terrified her, as now she was more easily spotted. She knew she needed to keep her head down, but she couldn’t help but glance over at the cage that was filled with children. It had been emptied out completely. She looked over to her mother’s cage. Damien was still sleeping curled up in their mother’s arms as she rocked him gently, still covering his ears. Kayla saw other parents in that cage, teary eyed and slumped against the bars. She couldn’t imagine the loss they must be feeling, having their child ripped out of their arms, being taken to an unknown fate. Kayla’s heart ached.

Kayla overheard a couple of fetchers chatting as they were returning to the long table. “Some are flying in from the Middle East.”

“Yeah, they’re getting desperate over there. They’re almost running out in some countries.”

“That’s because people are hoarding them. It’s ridiculous. You only need two or three—especially if they’re young, because then you got a lifetime supply.”

“Lifetime might not be enough. By the time they age out, there better be a system in place.”

“Well, that’s what the farms are for.”

Their conversation trailed off and Kayla was confused. What are they talking about? Hoarding what? A lifetime supply of what?

She was frustrated that there were pieces of this ‘effed-up puzzle she didn’t understand. As she tried to figure it out, a tall Asian man in a charcoal grey suit strolled in, carrying a briefcase. He looked very rich. Kayla watched him stride confidently over to her mother’s cage, scanning the other cages as he passed by. He’s been here before, she thought.

He called over one of the helpers. “I’ve found one.”

“That’s wonderful, Sir. Head over to the table to make a claim and they’ll set you up.”

“I don’t have time. I have a flight to catch. There’s a child in that corner there. I want a closer look. He’s obscured.”

Kayla’s heart sank. She glanced over at her mother, who still had her back facing the front of the cage—her eyes had gone wide and her body was rigid.

“Yes, Sir.” The helper waved over one of the fetchers. Some of the parents wearily got to their feet again, readying themselves for another fight.

“Oh, come now, must we do this every time?” said the fetcher to no parent in particular.

“Every fucking god damn time, you piece of shit,” said the burly man whose daughter had been taken earlier, his face now marred with dried blood and bruises.

The fetcher rolled his eyes and called forth a guard, pausing to look back before holding up two fingers. The guards opened the cage and immediately chaos ensued. All the parents charged the cage door, pushing it, trying to keep it closed. The two guards pushed back, busting it open with ease, causing the people inside to slide back.

When they entered the cage, the fight started. People were punching and kicking. One of the guards grabbed a parent and hurled him into the crowd like a bowling ball, sending the others tumbling down like scattered pins. The burly man tackled one of the guards and managed to bring him down. He tore the guard’s helmet off and cracked his sunglasses, revealing bright slate grey eyes. The guard then kicked the burly man with such force, he flew back against the cage bars, denting them before falling and landing hard on the concrete floor.

He never got back up.

By now there was a clear path to Kayla’s mother, as few people were left standing to fight. Others were either too exhausted, wounded, or scared to do so. Kayla watched in horror as they inched closer and closer to her mother.

“Mom,” Kayla whispered, her voice shaking.

The commotion had awoken Damien and he started to cry.

Her mother didn’t say anything, though Kayla could see she was trembling. Damien cried harder.

“Mom!” Kayla shrieked louder this time. The guards were right behind her.

Finally, her mother stood up, tucking Damien into the space between her body and the back bars of the cage. She stayed as far back from the guards as possible, shielding Damien behind her.

Kayla cried out, “Leave him alone! Please!”

They were pulling at her mother. One guard managed to pry her off Damien while the fetcher snatched him up. Her mother reached for him and shouted, “NO!”

Damien was shrieking.

“Don’t touch him!” Kayla screamed out.

The fetcher held her brother up above their heads by his shirt collar while the guards kept the rest of the parents back.

Kayla quickly stood up and looked over at the rich Asian man. He raised his head and gave a curt response. “Yes, he’ll do nicely.”

Kayla’s mother jumped on the fetcher’s back, slamming down on him with her fists as she tried to reach for Damien. The fetcher tossed her to the side and she fell onto the floor. She was slow to get back up as they started to make their way to the front, still clutching Damien by his shirt.

“No! Let him go!” Kayla screamed, lunging to the front of her cage in a panic. “Don’t take him! Don’t take him!” she shrieked, slamming her hands against the cage bars. She looked back at her mother, who was back on her feet but still not moving. She was just standing there, staring as the fetcher made his way out of her cage with Damien.

Kayla was confused as to why her mother wasn’t fighting harder like the others had.

As he got to the front of the cage, the fetcher looked to the rich man. “Sir, please make your way to the—”

“Like I’ve already said, I’m in a hurry. I will leave my payment here. I’m sure this will suffice?” The man unclasped his briefcase and dumped stacks of cash onto the floor right outside the cage.

The fetcher hesitated and looked over at the man in the navy suit, who had been watching the whole commotion. He nodded his approval.

“Alright, Sir. Very well.” The fetcher said smiling.

Kayla kept slamming on her cage. “Don’t take him! You can’t have him! Mom, do something!” Kayla was frantic and hysterical as her brother cried, reaching out for their mother.

Kayla put her arms through the metal bars, trying to reach him. If she could just grab and pull him back to her… But it was no use. He was too far away.

In other cages, people were slamming on their bars, with a renewed sense of anger and energy.

“Think about what you’re doing! You can’t just take our children!” someone cried out.

“This is wrong, and you know it!” yelled a man from another cage.

The rich man seemed unbothered, like he couldn’t hear any of them, but Kayla thought she saw his mouth twitch and his head raise ever so slightly. He’s bothered, but he refuses to show it. Kayla shook the thought away. No, not possible—these people are evil.

Her mother still stood frozen, but before the guards closed the door she bolted to the front—not where the fetcher was with Damien but where the rich man was standing, going face to face with him through the cage.

“Please, Sir, take me with you. He’s only two years old. You’ll need someone to look after him when he becomes fussy. I can do that. I’ll keep him quiet,” she said, looking over at Damien, who was still wailing at the top of his lungs. “I know how to soothe him. Please, I won’t be any trouble. I can cook and clean… anything you want.”

The rich man seemed irritated but intrigued.

Kayla just watched the conversation unfold crying, what is she doing?

The man looked her mother up and down. “How old are you? Forty?” He didn’t look pleased.

“I’m healthy!” her mother blurted out. “No… physical limitations. I have no chronic illnesses. I… I don’t have any disabilities…”

The rich man took another appraising look at her. “You do look fit.”

He then looked at Damien, who was screaming and thrashing and crying bloody murder while frantically trying to reach out for his mother. The rich man rolled his eyes, and sighed heavily. “Yes, he does look like he’ll be difficult.” He glanced down at his Rolex and muttered, “I don’t have time for this. Fine, I’ll take the woman too. I trust the cash will be satisfactory for both?”

The man in the navy suit—who had already claimed the suitcase—nodded. “Yes, Sir, we’re squared away here.” He looked over at the fetcher and signaled for him to open the cage back up.

Their mother walked out.

“W—wait! Take me too!” Kayla cried out, trying to get the rich man’s attention. “Hey! I’m with them! Take me too!” She banged on the bars.

He hardly noticed.

Kayla looked at her mother, who was stoic as she went over to Damien. Staying calm, she gently took him into her arms and started to rock him, trying to soothe him. He quieted down.

“Ah… Seems you’ll be of use after all,” said the rich man. “Alright, come along. We have a flight to catch.” He walked towards the exit.

Her mother followed but quickly stopped outside the cage by Kayla.

“Mom, what are you doing? Please! No!” cried Kayla, sniffling.

Her mother was calm. “Shush, Kayla. Remember what we talked about.”

“Mom, please let me come with you!”

“Kayla!” her mother raised her voice, suddenly stern and strict. “Remember what I told you. North. I will meet you there.”

Kayla reached out for her through the bars. Her mother took her hand and kissed it.

“Are you coming or not?” the rich man called back impatiently.

“Get there, Kayla. No matter what. I love you.” She let go of Kayla’s grasp and walked away with Damien, quickly catching up with the rich man and never looking back.

Kayla bawled her eyes out as she watched them disappear, hearing the faint cry of “Lala!” in the distance.

Chapter Thirteen

The rest of that evening was a blur. Kayla sat frozen and unmoving, still shocked by her mother’s and Damien’s absence. She was slumped down at the front of her cage, sobbing inconsolably, her whole body shaking violently.

She heard one of the buyers outside the cage say, “Oh no, that one is far too emotional. The one over there looks promising, though.”

Eventually the sounds died down, including her own sobs. The scraping of chairs could be heard as workers cleaned up. They folded up the tables and carried them out of the warehouse with ease. The guards escorted the women carrying the strongboxes, carrying any remaining suitcases and crates alongside them. The man in the navy suit carried the briefcase the rich man had brought in, having collected the scattered money and placed it back inside.

“Very productive work today, you guys. We sold more than yesterday!” said one of the helpers.

“Yeah, surprised so many came this time,” one of the women replied.

“I think we’re the only pop-up around here. If there’s another, it’s probably miles away,” said another helper.

Murmurs of agreement could be heard as the helpers left, closing the warehouse doors shut behind them. Kayla could hear huge chains being wrapped around the handles on the outside. Some people started to stand up and stretch their limbs. She didn’t bother. The few people left in the other cages were once again attempting to break the locks.

“It’s no use! You’ve already tried!”

“Well, I’m trying again, God dammit!”

Kayla continued to lay on the cold concrete floor of her cage. Her devastation engulfed her, weighing her down like an anchor keeping her in place. She didn’t try to move. What’s the point? She had no energy left—it was all spent on tears.

Her father and brother were dead. And now her mother and Damien were gone too. She was never going to see them again. Kayla closed her eyes tight, clutching her side from the pain of the grief. She wanted her family to be whole again. She wanted to be with them. All of them. She didn’t care where, as long as they were all together. The thought of being alone was too much to bear. She knew she needed to be strong, that her mother would want her to be strong. But in that moment, she felt she had no strength left.

Once the sun set, the warehouse became dark again. There were no lights, only the glimmer of the faded moonlight shining through the top windows—Kayla could see the silhouettes and shadows of the people around her. The ones still left.

She tried to stretch her body out, but she accidentally kicked someone else’s leg or arm. “Sorry,” she said.

They didn’t respond.

Kayla resigned to curling back up in a ball, hoping that exhaustion would overtake her and force her into a deep sleep. It was wishful thinking. She was still awake, listening to the noises coming from everyone else trapped around her—their muffled cries, their muttered prayers, the quiet shushing sounds of those trying to console the anguished parents. Guess she’s not the only one who couldn’t sleep. It was a chilly night. Kayla could feel cold air seeping through from somewhere. Even curled up in a ball, she couldn’t stop herself from shivering.

Someone’s conversation started to get louder. Men’s voices started to rise in argument. She couldn’t make out who was speaking but listened to their bickering, knowing she wouldn’t be able to drift off to sleep anyways.

“Look, we know a few of them have keys—we just need to find a way to get it from them.”

“That’s not a plan.”

“Well, I don’t see you coming up with anything better!”

“Even if we find a way out, then what? A lot of us are just too wounded or exhausted to fight. Many don’t have any fight left in them.” Kayla felt like he was talking about her.

“Yeah, those old people won’t be able to do much.

“We have to try, if we could just find a way to get out of these cages…”

“And then do what? Even if we got out, they would still overpower us. Remember that lady who tried to run earlier?”

“That was just one person! But if we all found a way out—”

“Y’all clearly haven’t been paying attention,” said Clarence, the man who spoke up earlier.

“Yeah? What you know?”

“Only know what I remember from folktales. Been trying to figure out how much of it is true.”

Someone groaned. “Man, what are you going on about?”

“Vampires.”

Kayla perked up at the word. Did he just say vampire?

“Nah that’s crazy man. There’s no such thing. They don’t exist.”

Clarence chuckled.

“For real though,” said the one who suggested getting the keys, “you think they’re vampires? Like the ones in the fairytales and movies?”

“What fairytales have you been reading?”

“Yeah I do, except this ain’t no fairytale,” Clarence continued. “I call them for what they are. And it’s plain as day. They’re quick, they’re strong. They ain’t eating our flesh, they’re drinking our blood. It’s why we’re in this hellhole. They need us to survive. Now which creature in ancient lore do you know does that? Bloodsuckers. An’ they about to enslave us all.”

The room went quiet with a few hurried whispers. The men who first brought up the plan to escape had gone silent themselves. Kayla sat up and could see Clarence lit under the moonlight. Could they really be vampires?

“Alright, I’ll say it. That’s absolutely absurd!” someone shouted, finally breaking the silence.

Clarence nodded. “Maybe, but if I’m right, mankind needs to get ready cause we about to enter the fight of our lives.”

“We’ve already lost.”

“No, God wouldn’t leave us with an enemy we couldn’t fight,” said an elderly woman. “He’ll give us a way. He always does.”

*

Kayla managed to drift off to sleep eventually, getting a few hours of rest in the early morning. Her peace was temporary, as she was startled awake, her breathing coming hard and fast on the cold concrete floor. Her arm was numb, as she slept on it. Looking around for the source of the disturbance she noticed others had been jolted awake too. Oh God, they must be back.

She looked around but saw no one other than everyone still in the cages. That’s when she felt it, beneath her hand—slight tremors rumbling from below.

“Could it be an earthquake?” someone whispered in the distance.

“We don’t get quakes ‘round these parts…”

Kayla saw small pebbles on the ground nearby, vibrating. Her heart started to race. That’s not good. She didn’t know why an earthquake would be the thing to scare her now. It was the least of her problems. She glanced up at the dusty unused lights hanging above her. They were subtly swinging back and forth. There was nowhere for her to take cover.

There was a sudden loud crash. One of the windows behind her had shattered, causing screams to rise from the cages. Something flew through the window, landing in an open space near Kayla. She stared at it trying to figure out what it was. It looked like mangled metal—maybe a piece of aluminum with something sharp jutting out. What the heck is that?

“That’s a piece of a drone!” someone shouted from a cage across from her.

She saw it now—what looked like a piece of the propeller still lodged in the metal. But before she could wonder what it meant, the ground beneath her began to shake more violently, the tremors rippling through her entire body. Panic coursed through her as she quickly looked back at the windows, seeing flashes of light and hearing loud noises coming from outside. Then there were distant popping sounds.

Are those gunshots?

One of the warehouse’s wall exploded, bursting open with chunks of debris falling everywhere. The blast knocked Kayla hard against the steel bars of her cage, and small pieces of brick and mortar landed on top of her. Disoriented, she looked up, shielding her eyes from the blinding, searing light coming from outside. The entire side of her cage had been blown apart, and everyone was screaming, as several other cages had also burst open.

The far back corner where her, her mother, and Damien had huddled in earlier no longer existed, as it was completely buried under large pieces of rubble. To her horror, Kayla noticed powdery arms and legs poking out from under the broken bricks—people who had been buried in the blast. The popping sounds were louder now. One of the overhead lights came crashing down in front of her. Disoriented, she saw people getting up and rushing past her, sprinting out of the cage.

She heard cries of, “Help! Please don’t leave us!” She turned her head to see the other cages were still intact, the people within reaching their arms out in desperation, some clawing away at the locks, struggling to break themselves free. One of them was Frank Robinson. He, along with others, were using large chunks of debris that had rolled into their reach to bash away at the locks.

Kayla got to her feet, stared back towards the bright opening, and ran.

Chapter Fourteen

The morning light was blinding and illuminated the chaos. Kayla was coughing from the ash and smoke and saw whoever managed to escape their cage running wherever they could. There were drones flying overhead, and all around her people were fighting. Some who escaped were attacked and caught by the bright-eyed monsters. The infected. There were so many of them—more than just the ones from the warehouse. She saw several guards and wanted to steer clear of them. She ran but the ground was uneven, some parts unearthed and potholed from the explosions. She fell, looking up she saw men in camouflage flak jackets and military gear. One looked down at her.

“Run!” he yelled, before an infected tackled him to the ground and tore his neck out.

She saw more of the infected coming from the side beyond the warehouse, while the military soldiers advanced from the other side. Grenades and explosions went off all around her. She could see smoke clouds miles away in the distance. Terrified, Kayla got up, ignoring the pain from her scraped knees and tried to run again. She heard gun shots now, multiple rounds firing from somewhere she couldn’t pinpoint.

She was right in the middle of a war zone. It was the infected against the military, and it was absolute chaos. Kayla didn’t have time to be relieved now that the cavalry had arrived, as she knew she needed to get out of the crossfire. As she ran she recognized some of the workers hiding behind heavy debris or totaled cars. She noticed one with a limb blown off, rolling on the ground writhing in pain. It’s a rescue mission. They were saved!

“But why are there so many of them?” she whispered.

There was a whole army now—enough for a full-on battle. Kayla couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The soldiers were dressed in bullet proof vests and tactical swat gear. They carried high-powered rifles, shotguns, and explosives. They came for blood, and Kayla was excited to see them get what they came for. She just needed to get out of the way.

Yes! Get them! Kill them all! she thought.

Deafening sounds surrounded her, coming from every direction. Captives were running, scattering in every direction. It was difficult for Kayla to know which way to go. She just knew she couldn’t go back. She passed the front statue, now blown to bits and pieces. In front of her were several tanks, seemingly shooting at distant targets. She could hear other tanks firing in another area. It sounded like the fighting went on for miles.

To her shock, one of the tanks was surrounded by people. But as Kayla watched one of them turn, she could see the glint in their eyes even from where she stood. The tank had its gun pointed towards the warehouse. She wondered if it was what caused the explosion that freed her. She watched as five or six of the infected pushed against the side of the tank, toppling it over onto its side. Once it slammed on the ground, the hatch opened and four military soldiers shuffled out, scrambling away.

Hearing a scream, Kayla looked over to see an infected being pelted by bullets. One soldier was shooting from the front, and another was shooting him from behind. A third doused him in a liquid that smelled like gasoline. And a fourth lit the match. She quickly looked away as the man shrieked in excruciating agony as his flesh melted away.

A nearby blast knocked Kayla over, and there were gunshots once again coming from every direction. Just run. You’ll find a place to hide.

Kayla kept ducking down as she ran, her heart pounding whenever she heard bullets whizzing past her.

“Get down, get down!” she heard a soldier yell. She had no idea if they were talking to her, but she got down anyways, laying in the dirt and covering her head. Then someone else was knocked down in front of her. She instinctively reached out to help the man but stopped when she saw his eyes. They were an unsettling bright amber. Freezing in a cold panic she realized it was one of the infected but breathed a sigh of relief when she saw his chest riddled with bullets. It’s okay. This one’s dead. The soldiers are winning.

Looking closer at the fallen creature, Kayla saw a tattoo on his ribcage peeking through a rip in his shirt. It was a crimson-shaded number 8. She didn’t know why, but she found it oddly familiar, as if she’d seen it somewhere before. She wondered what it meant. Then the figure moved. Kayla held her breath, freezing again. The infected man started grunting and groaning. His hands were trying to wipe away the blood so he could see better. He turned over and got onto his knees.

What was he doing?

While he was still groaning, his eyes scrunched from the pain, Kayla watched in shock as one by one the bullets started dropping out of him to the dirt.

“What the—”

His amber eyes snapped towards her. His face was full of fury and he was breathing heavily as he waited for all the bullets to leave his body.

“Shit…” Kayla got up and started to run in the other direction.

She nearly tripped over someone she recognized from the cages. They were shot in the head. It was hard to see through the dense smoke from the explosions.

Someone shouted, “Grenade!” Kayla couldn’t tell if it was a soldier or an infected that gave the warning.

The soldiers were trying to maintain distance from the infected, as if they were trying to avoid hand-to-hand combat. Most of the soldiers stayed back on one side and just sprayed bullets at anyone not wearing military gear. After seeing what the amber-eyed creature’s body did with the bullets, she understood why they didn’t wear protective gear.

She wondered if the soldiers were aware of it themselves, as she watched hordes of the infected charge into the firing guns, allowing themselves to be pounded with bullets. Some went down after only a few hits, groaning and clutching at the wounds and holes in their bodies. Others took several hits before they too went down. The guards, however, went the whole distance, forcing the soldiers into close combat whether they liked it or not. They must be wearing bullet proof vests. The ones that went down, didn’t stay down for long.

My God. If military bullets don’t kill them, what will?

Distracted by the attacks, she didn’t see him coming. In an instant one of the infected appeared right in front of her, poised to attack. Kayla screamed and stumbled back. Then a barrage of high-powered bullets pounded into him. He yelled in agony. Kayla looked over at the soldier who saved her. It was a woman in tactical swat gear with strawberry blonde hair tied up into a bun. She was reloading her gun, getting ready to blast more rounds into him. The creature was lying face down.

“You from the area?” she asked.

“No… No, I was… My family was attacked, and we were brought—” Kayla couldn’t get the words out.

“You’re one of the prisoners then?” the soldier asked, still aiming her gun at the infected’s back.

“Yes, they locked us up.”

“Well, you’re free now. Get out of here.”

“Wait! My mother and brother were taken and—” But Kayla couldn’t finish her sentence before another infected came out of nowhere, tackling the soldier to the ground. Kayla looked back and saw the one with bullets in his back starting to move—and she didn’t wait another second to get the hell out of there.

She ran towards the street, where several cars were blown up. Her stomach churned as she ran past a couple of dead military soldiers. It’s okay, the soldiers got this. She just needed to find a place to wait until they finished. Suddenly, she halted mid-run when she saw a guard take out one of the soldiers in the distance. He looked over at Kayla, but she wasn’t sure if he was truly looking at her until she was suddenly knocked to the ground, skidding across the concrete road.

He started to drag her away until a slew of bullets whizzed past her, piercing the guard. She could see that he was angry, gritting his teeth and letting her go. He turned and scanned the area. Kayla just stayed down, shielding her head, peeking up at him but not daring to move. She noticed the number 8 etched into the front of his bullet proof vest. She wondered if it was connected to the one she saw tattooed on the infected earlier. For a moment, the guard just stared into the distance, then he took off in a blur. Kayla took a few moments to catch her breath before getting up again.

*

Following the direction of the street, Kayla met up with a few other people from the warehouse, who were huddled behind a slightly crushed car. Kayla joined them, but they must not have seen her coming, as a blonde woman was startled and screamed.

“Shut up!” one of the guys snapped at her.

“Get down!” the other guy said to Kayla.

Kayla didn’t say anything. Crouching down, she was relieved she had a moment to catch her breath.

“We need to find a place to take cover,” another guy said.

Kayla nodded, agreeing. Across the street she saw what looked like an alleyway. They would have to go through some war ground where tanks and grenades were still going off, but the area right passed it looked clear, and the two buildings would provide cover from the bullets. If they ran there, they could then get to the next street over and put some distance between them and the war zone—getting far enough away and finding a spot to lay low until the soldiers were done. Then she’d be able to circle back and see if she could get help to look for her mother and brother. It was perfect.

“What about that building? We can hide in there,” said the snappy guy.

“Yeah, that looks good,” said the other guy.

Kayla didn’t like it. “There’s an alley over there, it looks clear,” she said.

They ignored her. Another explosion went off near them.

“Okay, on my count, we make a break for it.”

Kayla eyed the alleyway again. Not only did it look safer, but they could become trapped in a building as it was still too close to the fighting! She tried again. “The alley, it could lead—”

“It’s too far!” one of the men snapped at her.

Kayla’s face reddened in embarrassment by the man’s outburst. She looked at the building and back at the alleyway, her heart pounding. She was conflicted, as she didn’t want to be alone, but she also felt the alley would be safer. The only downside was that it would be risky to try and run across to it. But once they got there they could just continue going to the other side and keep running deeper into the city, instead of staying in the war zone they were currently trapped in. She didn’t want to be in a building and just lay low. She wanted to get as far away as possible. Keep moving. Keep running,

“Alright, on the count of three,” said a man.

In front of them a soldier was shooting at seemingly nothing before they fell, and a creature was suddenly on top of them. The creature snapped its neck then bit and gnawed on his opened flesh for a few moments, before leaving in a blur.

“Oh my God,” the woman whimpered.

“ONE.”

Teary eyed, Kayla stared at the dead soldier in front of her, blood oozing from his torn neck, once again reminding her how important it was for her not to be alone. Her odds would be better if she stayed with a group of people. It would be safer. She glanced back over at the alley.

“TWO.”

They were going to make a break for it, readying themselves to sprint into the building across from them. Inching closer to the far side of the car, Kayla shuffled alongside them. Looking up at the building she kept thinking how it could get hit with a rogue drone or grenade. It already looked beaten up.

“THREE!”

She bolted, sprinting as hard as she could towards the alley. She could see it up ahead and was gaining ground until she suddenly fell hard in agonizing pain. A flash grenade went off and her ears were ringing so loudly she couldn’t focus. There was movement around her—fighting, faint screaming and yelling. The ringing in her ears died down and she struggled to get back up. She saw soldiers being tackled as they tried to fight off the infected. Looking up, she saw a dead infected on the ground near her, his head blown clean off. More soldiers ran past her and she could hear, “Go for the head, go for the head!” between fired shots.

Kayla got back on her feet. The alleyway was up ahead, and it was still clear. She sprinted again, ignoring the impact of the explosions going off near her and the sounds of bullets whizzing around her. She felt something hot and sharp piercing her arm, but she didn’t stop to look at what it was. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she didn’t stop running. She kept going until she reached the alleyway, leaving the brutal battle behind her.

Once at the alleyway, she continued running, following the path as far as it would go. It was longer than she thought. Explosions still rang out behind her, and she could see billowing black smoke rising to the sky.

“Almost there,” she said to herself as she ran, though she knew she needed to get several blocks away before she felt safe enough to wait it out.

“No!”

A dead end.

She was blocked by the brick wall of another building—not a passage to the other street as she hoped.

Shit.

Kayla stood there, staring at the wall as if it would magically open for her. Specks of dust and black smoke were creeping up behind her. She felt dumb, realizing she should have just gone with the others. Too late now. She sighed heavily. There was nowhere else to go. She clutched the side of her arm that was trickling blood. A bullet must have grazed her. She winced in pain, exhausted and bruised.

“I need a place to hide.” She looked around, refusing to go back. A little up ahead she saw a green dumpster up against the building’s wall. She rolled her eyes and said “‘eff it.”

She opened the dumpster and thankfully it wasn’t very full—there were only a few trash bags inside—and it smelled a hell of a lot better than the warehouse. She climbed inside. Closing the lid, she leaned on the side furthest from the trash bags and pulled her knees up close to her chest. She listened to the screaming and chaos that was still going on outside. It was far but still close enough for her to hear the gunshots. The explosions startled her, making her flinch every time they went off. She hated that they still sounded so close. As she listened, she realized in horror that the sounds seemed to be getting louder. Kayla didn’t dare move—she barely breathed—and with tears streaming down her face, she closed her eyes tight and waited for it to be over.

Chapter Fifteen

It was hours before the noise of explosions and gunfire settled down to an eerie and steady quiet. Kayla didn’t know how much time had passed. After she noticed things had gone quiet, she strained to see if she could hear anymore fighting. All she could hear was the sound of her own breathing. She looked at her arm. Whatever grazed her had left a cut on it. Now that she thought about it, her whole body was painful, sore, and stiff. She shakily lifted the lid of the dumpster up, peering out. No one was out there, just a pile of trash against the wall on the other side of the alleyway. She climbed out tenderly, as her body and muscles ached all over. Once outside the dumpster she looked at her arm again. It was no longer bleeding and the wound had already started closing. It must not have been that deep of a cut. It was still sore and painful, though. She tried not to think about it.

Looking up at the sky, still covered with remnants of black ash, she could tell that hours had passed since she hid in the dumpster. She knew she didn’t want to spend the night in there, however the thought of going back out into the open terrified her. She was too nervous she would run into a… vampire. Even saying the word in her head felt stupid.

Vampires… She had refused to refer to them that way until now, trying it out. She remembered what Clarence said, then felt a pang of dread in her chest as she remembered his cage was further down the warehouse and would not have exploded open. It’s okay, the soldiers would have freed him by now.

Everything he said, despite how crazy it was, made sense. And she knew what she herself had witnessed. If these creatures are feeding on human… blood… then there really wasn’t any other explanation for it. They’re vampires. They must all be dead now, right? The soldiers, the military—they must be all that’s left if it’s this quiet. Yes, she thought, there must be a soldier out there that can help me. She started to walk back out of the alleyway.

All of a sudden, she heard movement. There was rustling coming from somewhere on the other side of the alley across from her. Looking back, she noticed the sound was coming from black garbage bags stacked against the side wall. She saw someone stirring there among the cardboard boxes and trash. She let out a sigh of relief. It was just a disheveled homeless man sleeping. How could he have slept through all this chaos?

He moved, standing up and facing her. His greyish brown hair was matted, and he wore faded oversized sweatpants that were dirty with grime paired with a tattered t-shirt. The soles of his shoes were ripped and coming apart. He stared at her with dark beady eyes, that looked as if there was a hint of blue in the depths of their darkness.

“I can smell your blood, girl.” He sniffed and wiped his nose like a cocaine addict.

Kayla froze. Her fear started to rise up. He was one of them.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Get out of here. Go on—git.” His low voice was strained, and his hands were fisted at his sides.

“Oh… right… sorry,” Kayla stuttered as she walked away down the alley. It took everything she had not to break into a sprint. Was he a vampire? If he was, why didn’t he attack her? Maybe he was just a sick homeless man? From what she’s learned online they’re usually mentally unwell she thought casually. Their homelessness resulting from a lack of societal empathy and resources. It was probably best to just leave him alone. But his eyes… they were too dark to be human.

Despite the urge not to, she looked back at the homeless man and found him watching her, with a pitied, wrinkled look on his face. He had a mournful expression, and his hands were clenched. Kayla started to pick up her pace.

“Hey,” the homeless man said. Kayla spun around, shocked, having had to come to a hard stop or else she would have bumped into him.

Shit, he is one of them! “Yes?” she said timidly. Her mind was racing. Stay calm. She needed to get away from this creature.

“Those bastards. The ones kidnapping children, they’re still out there,” he said, still talking in a low tone.

“No… No, there was a war… The soldiers, the military came and fought them off.” Was she actually having a conversation with one of these things? This man is a monster. A killer. Every instinct in her was telling her to keep moving.

“You think I didn’t hear all that racket?” he snapped, causing Kayla to flinch. “I was in this alley. You think I didn’t see it? I was here the whole time, girl. I know those soldiers attacked them, but the soldiers didn’t win—they ran away.”

He shook his head with a low chuckle before continuing, “Dunno why they keep sending the military to fight wars they can’t win… but I’m telling you, you keep going up that alleyway, you’ll run right back into those monsters.” He tilted his head and continued in a whisper, “I can hear them. They’re searching for survivors who escaped. I’m guessing you’re one of them… You keep going that way, you’re gonna walk right back into their grasp.”

“Th—thank you,” Kayla said flustered. She started to sidestep around him as politely as she could. This guy was clearly mistaken. The military had come. The soldiers fought. Those bloodsuckers are dead. And everyone that was taken and captured was now free. Well, except those that were caught in the crossfire, she remembered somberly.

She just needed to meet up with a soldier, explain what happened to her mother and brother, so that they could go rescue them. Then they’ll all go up North. It’s fine, everything will be fine. Kayla started to walk briskly away from him. Also, it was just the two of them in this alley, why was he speaking in a hushed voice? She shook her head. That old man was just odd. She couldn’t blame him considering how ‘effed up the world has gotten. She’s surprised she still has her own sanity.

As she got closer to the opening of the alley, she hesitated, starting to have doubts. The homeless man mentioned that he could hear them… from here. She stifled a scoff. That’s impossible. She shivered, her nerves were getting the best of her. Now that she thought about it, it was a bit too quiet. Images of dead soldiers flashed in her mind. She shook them off. “There were dead vampires, too,” she whispered to herself. Then she rolled her eyes. Great, now I’m whispering, too.

Kayla sighed. It wouldn’t hurt to be just a little cautious. She peeked out around the corner of the alleyway wall. Sure enough, she saw a couple of vampire workers, the ones who brought in the truckloads of people. She quickly stepped back, taking a sharp breath. Did they see me? Her heart was pounding. How is this possible? How are they not dead? “How did their military lose? Those creatures can’t win.” Starting to hyperventilate, she shut her eyes, trying to control her breathing.

“See, I told you.”

Kayla jumped and squealed before placing her hand over her mouth. She looked beside her, and the homeless man was inches away from her face.

She wrinkled her nose at him. He saw the gesture and smirked. “You think you smell any better? You spent the day in a dumpster.”

How can this be happening? Why didn’t she hear him creep up on her?

“Come on,” he said barely audibly and walked back down the alley.

Kayla just stared at him as he walked away. Did he really expect her to just follow him? An infected? She stood there a moment, flabbergasted, before realizing she had no other choice.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she mumbled to herself before jogging to catch up with him.

He side-eyed her. “That building over there is unlocked,” he said, pointing to a building. “Well, not unlocked exactly, but the door is open. See?”

The door looked as if it had been pried open—it was hanging off a hinge—leaving a small, crooked opening. She peered through the door. It led to a darkened hallway. She didn’t like not knowing what was inside.

“There’s no one in there. Nothing but a bunch of rats.”

“A bunch of what?” Kayla started to protest when the homeless man tilted his head and said, “Go! Now! Hurry!”

With no other choice, Kayla went through the crooked door.

*

It was dark and she felt herself walking on an incline. A faint flicker of light shined in the distance. There was rubble or debris, as if a stray explosion hit the structure or was set off in close proximity, its impact causing the building to crumble in on itself. The ground was uneven, causing her to almost trip several times. She wished she could see where she was going, as there were huge stones and jagged rocks that she had to sidestep or climb over.

She came to a caved-in wall of thick cement. There was a small opening in the middle. It would be a tight squeeze, but she could try and pull herself through. She hesitated. This can’t be safe. What if she got stuck? Then she heard the scattering of tiny feet across the ground behind her. Needing no other convincing she squeezed through. When she finally broke out on the other side, she realized it was a large parking garage. It was partially collapsed but still had lots of parked cars around. Some had been destroyed and crushed by falling debris, with pieces of tempered glass lying on the cement ground. Some walls had been blown inward from the explosions. Kayla saw debris that resembled the drone she had seen earlier, scattered around the crushed walls. It must have been some type of bomb. She wondered why they targeted this building during the fight.

There were ramps leading to different parking levels. Some sections had been completely covered by the ceiling that had come down in giant chucks of concrete pieces. Kayla was surprised the garage was still holding up, as it looked like the whole place was ready to collapse. After walking for a bit Kayla realized she had lost her bearings and forgotten which way she should go. All she knew what that she needed to head in the direction away from the infected and captors, but she couldn’t tell which way that was. She decided to go up to the higher parking levels above to see if she could find a better view of what was happening out there. As she walked over the uneven ground, she found the quietness of the garage spooky, as if she wasn’t the only one there—even though only her footsteps echoed. She moved to an open space in the wall and looked out.

Kayla could see the vampires in the distance. The homeless guy was right—they were rounding up the escaped captives. It looked as if they were taking some soldiers hostage too. Her stomach twisted in knots at the sight of them. They were all huddled together, sitting in rows on the dirt, staring downward. She saw two of the captives she had met by the car earlier. The snappy guy had blood spatter on him, but he didn’t look wounded. The blonde woman was bawling her eyes out. Kayla took a breath. So, they were caught. She swore she could hear the poor woman’s cries from where she stood—which to Kayla meant she was still too close. Nobody looked bound up or restrained in any way. They weren’t trying to run or struggle either, but there was no point in them trying. They can’t outrun these monsters, and they aren’t strong enough to fight them off. This troubled her deeply. If the soldiers can’t fight the vampires, then who can?

Kayla backed away and looked around the garage. A car would be useful. It would be a lot easier than trying to get away on foot. Faster too. She contemplated smashing a window. Would that be too loud? Maybe there’s a car in here with the doors already unlocked.

Kayla figured she could try going around and checking each car until she found one that was unlocked. Though even if she did get inside, she wasn’t sure what she’d do next. It suddenly dawned on her—she’d need the keys. Would the push-to-start still work without them? What do they do in the movies? They hot-wire cars. Yeah, there were supposed to be wires under the steering wheel or something. She just had to pull them out and press them together until they sparked and the engine started.

She looked around, then headed back down a ramp, dropping a level or two, until she spotted a car that closely resembled her father’s—the kind she’d driven more than a few times. Peering inside, she moved to test the door handle when something warm and furry scurried across her bare foot. She looked down and saw a pack of rats weaving through the shadows. She squealed and stumbled back, bumping into the car behind her.

Setting off its alarm.

The sound was loud and piercing, making her jump into another car beside it, setting off its alarm too. Between the two alarms the sound was deafening as it echoed throughout the garage. A high-pitched screech that could probably be heard for miles.

Shit, shit, shit!

There was no way no one would hear this. Kayla started to move away from the cars, but she knew she didn’t have much time. She rushed to the far side of the parking level and crawled under a truck. Sure enough she heard distant voices shouting, “It’s coming from over there!”

She stayed as still as she could, covering her mouth with her hand.

“What do you think set this off?” she heard someone ask.

“What’d you think? There must be a blood-bag somewhere here. Look around.” They spread out checking between and under the cars nearby.

Kayla looked around frantically. They’re checking under the cars!

They were starting with the ones closest to the ones sounding their alarms and working their way down the garage. Down to her. Kayla looked beside her and past the row of cars to her left. She wasn’t sure but as she lowered her head closer to the ground, she could see what looked like the bottom of a building door. That must be an exit!

There were quite a few other cars in her row, but if she rolled or crawled under each one quietly, then maybe she could make her way to that door. She saw the other vampires getting closer. She tucked in her arms and started rolling all the way down her row, straining to stifle her grunts as she scraped against the concrete. Reaching the last car, she was disappointed to see that the door was still pretty far. She would have to make a run for it and, well… she remembered how difficult it was to outrun these monsters.

Not now. Can’t think about that now.

She would have to make her move when they weren’t looking. She glanced back and her heart raced as she started to panic. One of the vampires was already moving towards her row. She was frozen, too nervous to move. She was running out of time. She watched the creature’s footsteps as he started with the car at the far end of her row, checking underneath it. He hurriedly searched in between the cars, moving towards the one she was under. She glanced back at the door then at his footsteps coming closer and closer.

Kayla’s breathing quickening. If she was going to go, she needed to go now!

The footsteps were at her car, and the vampire started to lean down to check underneath it…

“Gotcha!”

No! She thought, startled.

Then she saw all the vampires were startled too. They were all looking at the homeless guy as he was holding rats up by their tails, cackling away as he watched them squirm.

“Oh, for fuck sakes. It’s just some hobo that set this shit off.”

“Come on. I want to start heading out of the city before it gets dark.” The rest of the hunting party agreed. As they walked away Kayla heard one of them say, “He’s using rats? Fucking disgusting.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Kayla waited a little while longer before moving, wanting to make sure they were all gone. When she shuffled out from underneath the car she looked towards the two cars, but the homeless man was no longer there either. She looked around the area, but he was nowhere to be found. She knew she had to keep moving, as the vampires were still too close. The door turned out to be an exit. It opened to stairs that descended to the street below, opposite the alleyway and warehouse.

Before heading down through the door, she took one last look behind her. Staring into the empty garage, in her normal voice, she said, “Thank you.”

She felt silly but who knows… maybe he’d hear it.

Chapter Sixteen

The sky was starting to turn to dusk and Kayla had been walking for a few hours. The warehouse was now behind her, but her heart still ached. She was alone. Even the streets she was walking through were empty and bare. There was no one except the birds and occasional strays that kept their distance from her. What she wouldn’t give to see another person. A human person.

She knew she should be grateful—lucky even—because she was still safe. She was still free. But it was hard for her to feel lucky, as she knew her mother and brother were not safe or free. And she had no idea where they were. They needed her, and she couldn’t help them. She knew what her mother would want her to do, but she didn’t know where to even start. Heading north was easier said than done. She didn’t even know how to go about getting her sense of direction. She wished she had her phone—it had a compass app on it. What if North was back the other way, where those creatures were? There was no way she was going to head back there. She had no idea what time it was, but it was getting darker.

“Is the sun setting already?” She looked up at the sky. Dark clouds gathered above her. She let out a heavy sigh. Great. It’s going to rain.

Up ahead, on the next block, she saw a man with two children. They were wearing backpacks, hiking boots, and carrying gear as if they were going on a camping trip. One of the children yelled, “Daddy, look,” and pointed in her direction. His father panicked, quickly shushing his child before looking over at Kayla. She was so relieved to see another person out here. She waved and started to walk towards them but then the father grabbed both his kids’ hands and jogged quickly away from her.

“No! Wait!” Kayla thought about yelling out that she wasn’t one of them, that she wasn’t infected, but they were too far away now, and she didn’t want to risk bringing attention to herself in case the monsters were still in earshot. Instead, she kept moving. I can’t go on like this. There’s no point in just walking aimlessly. I need a plan. She was starting to get thirsty, and her stomach started to rumble and ache. Food and water were a good place to start.

She reached a street corner and heard voices up ahead. Yes! People!

They seemed to have the same idea she did—grab supplies, some food, then find a place to lay low until a plan came together. If she was lucky, she could catch up with one of the people ahead and join them. Maybe they could all head north together. It was a cheesy thought, but she knew she couldn’t make the journey alone, what with not knowing where to start and hating having to just wing it. She wanted to find an adult who had more information or a clearer idea of what to do.

Just as she rounded the corner, a series of sharp pops rang out. Kayla watched as an older, drug-addled man shot a younger man in a hoodie, then bent down to snatch the victim’s backpack. His arm, mottled with needle marks, trembled as he yanked it free and slung it over his own shoulder. The murderer then looked up and saw Kayla, who was frozen in utter shock. The guy must have thought the coast was clear, as he quickly held up the gun and aimed it at her. Kayla didn’t even have the sense to raise her hands—she just stared back in fear. She noted the man’s eyes were normal looking, just glassy and bloodshot, but he was definitely human.

“Back up!” the gunman yelled.

“Please, I didn’t mean to see…” Kayla muttered as she finally started to raise her hands. Some other people ran out of the convenience store behind him, either unaware of the situation or completely ignoring it. It was clear to Kayla that she was on her own. More gunshots rang out in the distance; it sounded like young kids or some type of gang fooling around. But upon hearing the sounds, the gunman remembered he was in a rush and ran off with the backpack of supplies, forgetting about her.

Kayla let out a sigh of relief. Holy shit, why did he do that?!

She looked down at the young man dead on the curb, his eyes staring ahead at nothing. Blood still spilling from his wounds. She wondered what this person did to make that gunman so angry. She sidestepped the body and looked into the window of the convenience store. She didn’t see anyone else and figured it was safe to go in now that the gunman was gone.

She opened the door despite its glass being smashed and broken open enough to the point that she could have just walked through. The chime of a bell signaled her entry. There was no one manning the cash register which had already been pried open and emptied. She went towards the freezers and noticed some soda and juice bottles were still inside. Then, to her surprise, she saw a woman crouched in the corner, hastily filling up a gym bag full of supplies. Hesitating for a moment, Kayla walked up to her.

“Hello,” said Kayla.

The woman quickly glanced up in fear then went back and started zippering up her over-filled bag. A child’s shoe almost got caught at the top and the woman had to squish it down to get the zipper to go past.

“I… I’m Kayla.” She had no idea what to say. “I’m looking for a way North. Could you—”

The woman got up and rushed past her.

“Wait!” Kayla screeched, slightly embarrassed.

The woman paused at the doorway.

Taking several deep breaths, Kayla continued, “I’m sorry, I just don’t know what to do.”

The woman looked at her with sad eyes. “Hide. Just hide.” Then she ran out.

“No!” Kayla let out a groan. What did she mean by hide? I can’t hide. I have to get up North!

Kayla started to cry, frustrated by the woman’s lack of help. She shook her head and walked back to the freezers, taking a moment to calm herself down while she scanned what was left. There were some Gatorades, fruit juices, and even a few water bottles left. Not much but it was something, and she needed to stock up.

I’ll also need food. These stores usually have cheap lunch meat sandwiches somewhere. She looked around but couldn’t find any, as most of the shelves were bare. She spotted a few candy bars scattered on the ground and picked them up. Maybe there’s a supply room in the back.

As she moved forward, she saw the door had already been busted open. But when she stepped inside, several boxes were still stacked against the walls. She checked them one by one until she found the sandwiches.

Yes! She added them to her pile.

Going back to the cash register, she looked for plastic or reusable bags to put all her supplies in. As she looked over the counter, she screamed, dropping her stash of goods.

“Fuck!”

There was a dead body of a young man. He was wearing an employee uniform with multiple bullet holes. He looked like he’d been there awhile. Nausea surged within her, but she forced it down.

“I am so sick of seeing dead bodies,” she said to herself angrily.

She shakily reached over the counter, keeping her gaze from the body, and grabbed a few bags. She filled them up and rushed out of the store without looking back.

She stood under the awning just as the first few raindrops started to pour down. She shook her head. “Perfect.”

Kayla sat under the awning, waiting for the rain to die down. She nibbled on a few sandwiches while she waited. A few other people passed by her, their faces hidden in their raincoats and hoodies as they entered the store through the broken window. Kayla kept her bag close and would look up and smile, but their intimating demeanor let her know they weren’t in the mood to talk. The few people that went into the store, looted whatever was left and came back out. Some wore sunglasses despite the grey sky and rain. She heard a shocked scream before a guy ran out. She knew what he saw—the poor cashier.

As the rain started to ease up, she started walking again. She knew she had to find a place to stay for the night. She walked through neighborhoods and residential areas hoping to find a house she could crash in. Some doors had blocks of wood or wood panels on the windows. Some folks were inside—elderly people shouting that if she came any closer they’d shoot. Mostly though, when she knocked on doors, there was simply no answer.

Of course no one would be inside. Some folks must have left and made it up North.

North. Her mother and brother would be there. It was the only sure thing she knew. She refused to believe otherwise or entertain any other possibilities, because there were none. If her mother said she was going to go North, then that’s where she’d be. And Kayla knew that’s where she needed to be heading too. But first, she needed to find a place to stay for the night and rest.

Kayla passed one house with an old man on his porch. He blended in with the darkness. No porch light was on, but she could see his hand was firmly on the trigger of his shotgun. He was eyeing her suspiciously. She looked away quickly and kept on walking. She noticed that the few people she saw were older people. She hadn’t seen any younger people. She wanted to believe they had evacuated—that they’d chosen to leave rather than stay. These were the only two choices that were given to them. Kayla didn’t want to think of the alternative that was nagging at her thoughts.

She saw houses with their windows broken into. She tried not to think about what that may have meant. In fact, in one neighborhood she walked through, all the houses had their windows smashed, and their garage doors crumpled and slightly raised at their base. Kayla thought about entering one of these homes and staying the night, as their doors were already open. There was one house where the lights were still on, and the door was open, but the windows were intact. There were no signs of a forced break in. She hesitantly moved up the steps onto the front porch. Pushing the door open, the first thing she saw was a dead German Shepherd by the entryway. There was blood spattering on the walls. She stood there and stared. She knew what had happened. She knew that German Shepherd put up a good fight. And she knew it lost.

Stepping back out onto the street, she took a closer look at all the homes. She saw blood smears on the driveways and front doors. Looking up she saw the top window of one of the homes was shattered. She knew what happened in these homes, and that there were still remnants of the horror inside. There was no way she was entering these homes where a family was murdered—or worse. Her father’s and brother’s bodies flashed in her mind. She shook the thought off as thunder roared above her, ignoring her aches and pains from the scrapes and the bruises. She wasn’t tired yet. I can keep walking until I find a more appropriate place to stay.

As she continued on, the streetlights came on, the wind got stronger, and the rain started to fall harder.

*

Most of the streets were now lit up by streetlights that cast dark shadows. Her arms were hurting from carrying her supplies. No doubt the wound on her arm was making it harder. Shivering, she was starting to regret not going into one of the houses earlier. As she walked down a street she saw a group of people on the main road ahead. Her bag of supplies was in full view, and she didn’t want to run into any trouble. She wondered what they were doing out in the pouring rain. It was a group of men standing by some parked cars, laughing and popping off rounds. They were hooting and hollering as if they were celebrating something.

Kayla shook her head. She couldn’t fathom what they could possibly be cheering for now that the world had been taken over by monsters. She was hesitant to keep walking and pass them. Even though they were on the sidewalk on the other side of the road, they felt too close. There was another street coming up. It wasn’t lit by as many street streetlights, as some had been broken. The street was dark and foreboding. An empty street is better than passing a street of raucous men, she thought.

Kayla decided to turn down the isolated street. She figured she could walk quickly through it without being seen. She walked down the street for a while before she heard a thud and low groan of pain. Then she heard a faint scream. She looked around and didn’t see anyone. She picked up her pace, walking faster. She heard something louder this time. A woman’s scream. The rain was falling harder now, but through the shadows by the side of the road, she saw a figure holding someone up. Closer than she’d realized. She squinted into the darkness, struggling to make them out. But as her eyes adjusted, the scene became clearer: a cloaked man, holding up a woman.

The woman stared at Kayla wide-eyed, reaching her bloodied arm out to her weakly. Kayla froze. The man’s back was towards Kayla, his face buried in the woman’s hair at the nape of her neck. Moments later the woman, whose eyes were darting frantically at Kayla, went dull and her outstretched arm went limp. Kayla’s heart was racing. It was another one. It was another one of those vampires, she realized in horror.

With his back still turned, Kayla slowly backed away, carefully trying not to make a sound. The moment she felt far enough away from him, she turned to run back towards the main road. But once she did, the man was in front of her. She could barely make out his features in the dim light, but she could see his yellow green eyes glowing in the darkness as they bore into her. His figure only lit up with each flash of lightning. The booming sound of the thunder made Kayla flinch.

With his eyes glistening and blood dripping from his lips, he started to move towards her. Kayla dropped her bags and slowly started to retreat backwards, her eyes never leaving his. She was terrified. Shaking. A cry barely escaped her lips—she was too scared to make a sound. He reached out and grabbed her by the neck, pulling her face close to his. Kayla couldn’t move. The stench of blood and alcohol was on his breath. It nauseated Kayla, who was shaking now, not able to think of what to do. The man’s hand started to brush her body. He was eyeing her threateningly.

“Hmmm, another one. You’re a pretty little thing,” he murmured. “That one was the appetizer. You’ll be the main meal… I’ll take my time with you.” His hand groped her, pulling her closer.

Kayla started to cry. She wanted to scream but her fear kept her silent. Suddenly, before a second could pass, Kayla was slammed onto her back into the concrete. The man greedily tugged on her pajama bottoms, trying to pull them off. Kayla, coming back to her senses, kicked at the creature.

He was getting annoyed. “Stay still,” he growled, grabbing at one of her legs and biting into it hard.

The sharp pain caused Kayla to cry out before slamming it down. Her pants were down at her ankles now. Kayla was crying, still trying to kick and scream. He was punching and beating her. Then he brought his wretched face close to her neck. She could feel the heat of his breath as he tugged at her top now.

No! Kayla thought angrily. This can’t happen.

Her vision was blurred by the hard rain, but the lightning illuminated his hovering dark form. Kayla’s fear turned to anger, and her adrenaline spiked. She kept fighting, kicking, and yelling “Get off me!”

Suddenly he was flying out into the air and far into the darkness. She heard him grunt painfully, but didn’t see where he went. Glass could be heard shattering on the road from some kind of impact. The weather was getting worse and a flash of lightning showed Kayla’s outstretched hands in front of her, shaking. Kayla breathed heavily. The creature was gone. She didn’t know how far he went, but she knew he was off her.

She tried peering through the heavy rain and into the dark street, but she couldn’t see where he went. But he couldn’t have gone too far—she could hear him cussing, as if he was trying to get himself back up. Kayla hurried to her feet, leaving her pants behind and started to run as fast as she could.

She felt a searing pain with every step she took, but she didn’t care. The rain was blinding her, turning the streetlights into a blur as she passed. She kept running, the sound of the heavy rain pounding in her ears, the slick street furiously splashing its puddles against her feet. Adrenaline coursed through her, and her heart was racing, but she kept her breath as steady as she could. Looking straight ahead she heard her mother’s voice echo in her mind between distant bursts of thunder: Get up North, Kayla. Get there. Don’t stop!

“I won’t stop running, Mom.”

Kayla pushed harder, ran faster. She didn’t dare look back. She just stared straight ahead, her feet pounding the pavement.

“I will meet you there.”

Chapter Seventeen

Kayla ran until her legs gave out and there was no breath left in her lungs. Though the rain was still coming down hard, the thunder was distant now, and the flashes were fleeting—just traces of light twisting through the darkened clouds. Kayla started to slow down on a suburban street that was still lit. Catching her breath, she looked around. The eerie emptiness of the street didn’t bring much comfort.

She was breathing hard and shivering in her pajama top and underwear as the wind and rain bit into her chilled skin. A stabbing, rhythmic pain shot through her heart, and she clutched her chest, stumbling as she walked. She looked around the isolated street, anxious and in tears.

Where was the cloaked man? Could he have followed me?

She took a few deep breaths, hoping she had run far enough away. She couldn’t run anymore—she was suddenly lightheaded and dizzy. She wasn’t trying to catch her breath—she was hyperventilating. She stooped down over the curb, readying herself to be sick. Feeling faint, she leaned against the bottom of a streetlamp, but her breathing only came heavier.

Why was she feeling so queasy?

Kayla tried to take her pulse, but her heart was beating too fast to count. Running never took this much out of her. She focused on taking slow and steady breaths, trying to calm her heart down. Drenched and cold, she tried to compose herself. She kept her head low, fighting the urge to faint—that’s when she saw the pool of blood swirling into the rainwater. Her eyes followed the trail of reddish water down the sidewalk, looking for its source. That’s when she noticed her thigh was bleeding heavily, gushing blood everywhere, creating swirls of red in the puddles around her. She looked at the cut on her upper thigh, and knew she was in trouble.

“No!” Kayla pressed her wet hands over the wound, trying to apply pressure. This cut’s too deep! I’m going to die! she thought, wincing as her hands kept slipping off her leg.

Why is this happening?! She thought back to the cloaked man and the searing pain in her leg during the attack. How did he bite this deep?

Her hands were bloodied from trying to staunch the flow. She knew she needed to find a way to cover the wound before she bled out. She tried to think through her dizziness. She looked down at her drenched clothes. Should I use my shirt as a tourniquet? But then she’d be naked, and she was already so cold. Her hands kept sliding off her wet thigh as she tried to cover the wound.

She shook her head in defeat. “I’m gonna bleed out,” she whispered. She started to panic, then heard a voice from behind.

“Hello, do you need help?”

Kayla looked around and didn’t see anyone. There was only darkness. Terror consumed her. Was it him? Did the cloaked man find me?

She kept searching through the darkness, hoping it was just her mind playing tricks on her. Her brain was starting to shut down from the blood loss. She felt something warm on her shoulder. Startled, she fell forward into a bloody puddle, and as she looked behind her, she saw a stout figure. Kayla struggled to get to her feet, wincing from the excruciating pain in her leg. She limped away from the figure.

The figure stepped closer into the light and Kayla could see it was an elderly woman, somewhat out of breath herself, holding an umbrella. She was trying to shout over the rain, pointing to a spot in the darkness behind her.

The concerned woman looked around cautiously. “Do you need help?” she tried again. “Oh dear, you’re hurt. Come inside with me.” The elderly lady held out her hand for Kayla to take.

And Kayla took it.

The woman held up the umbrella to cover them both, but since Kayla was taller, she took it herself—holding it so it fully shielded the woman and only partially covered her own shoulder as she leaned to the side. Together, they walked back to the house where the woman lived.

Kayla’s limp caused her to walk slower than she would have liked, but it didn’t seem to be a problem, as she noticed the woman was struggling to keep up any pace as well. Beneath the sound of the pounding rain, Kayla thought she could hear her take raspy breaths.

Chapter Eighteen

It didn’t take long before the woman pointed to the front steps outside a bricked semi-attached house.

“This is me,” she said out of breath. “Go in, go in,” she added when she realized Kayla was waiting for her to go first. “Let’s get out of this dreadful rain.”

As Kayla headed up, she looked back and saw the woman was struggling, holding the railing for support as she walked up the few steps towards the front door. Kayla stopped at the top of the porch, holding the umbrella over the woman as she made her way up. The old woman looked at her wearily and waved her on.

“It’s alright, the door’s open—just go in,” she said, losing her breath between her words. “I’m alright,” she said more quietly as she tackled the last step.

Opening the door, Kayla felt a flow of warmth rush out. But the door wouldn’t open all the way, so Kayla pushed harder and heard scraping sounds from the other side. She squeezed herself through and although it was hard to see, it looked as if there was furniture that had been pushed up against the door. The foyer was mostly dark, lit up only by flickers of light that cast shadows on the wall in the hallway. The light was coming from a large room to Kayla’s right, where the familiar crackle of fire and the scent of burning logs drifted out. Kayla saw something leaning against the wall in the shadows of the hallway, but she couldn’t make out what it was. The elderly woman made her way inside, using the doorframe for support. Kayla stepped aside for her.

“The weather is terrible tonight,” the elderly lady said, shivering. Her voice had become raspier and her breathing hoarser. The woman turned on the hallway light after closing the door. “Ah, it should be fine to have this on for a bit. No point in trying to navigate in the dark.”

Kayla wasn’t paying attention—she was trying to make out the song she heard playing from somewhere. She had never heard anything like it before—it wasn’t a melody or sound that she recognized. A man with a deep voice was softly singing alongside a saxophone and piano. Whatever the music was, she found it mesmerizing, and she started to mindlessly sway to the melancholic melody. She found it soothing and allowed herself to get lost in it.

“What on earth!” cried the old woman. “Why are you nearly naked? Oh my…” She had to stop to catch her breath. “You must be freezing,” she muttered while she made her way down the hall.

Kayla didn’t hear her. She was focused on a small aluminum green cylinder that was leaning against the wall. The woman glanced at it briefly before continuing to the other room, out of sight from Kayla. On the other side of the hall, there was a room with lights on. It looked like a kitchen area, as Kayla could see polished grey granite counters and what looked like the side of a fridge across from a wooden dining table. Beneath the table, Kayla spotted an orange tabby cat, who was staring at her curiously. Another cat, a shaded silver Maine Coon, sauntered out from the room with the fireplace. Kayla stared back at both of them, watching the two kitties as she continued to sway to the music.

The woman returned with a stack of towels. She didn’t say anything as she handed them to Kayla. She then went to the aluminum tank and grabbed a mask that was attached to it. Turning the top nozzle, she placed the mask over her face and breathed deeply for a few moments. A small hissing sound could be heard.

When she was done, she turned the nozzle off and said, “Alright dear, dry yourself off. I have a fire going in the family room.” She sounded much better. “But first we should get you all bandaged up. That wound on your leg needs tending to.”

She walked back out to the hall. “I know there’s a first aid kit with all my supplies here somewhere,” she mumbled to herself.

Holding the towels, Kayla looked back at the furniture stacked against the door. She could now see a tall dresser, coffee table, and lounger pushed together and topped with smaller pieces of furniture like a couple of nightstands and a stool. That’s not going to keep them out, she thought. They’re going to break through.

“Ah! Here it is!”

Kayla was still looking at the barricade, but she instead saw blood-smeared walls, bloody shards of a broken plate and heard the distant echoes of her mother and brother screaming… Lala!

Kayla flinched when the woman gently put her hand on her arm.

The woman looked at Kayla softly. “Oh you poor girl, what happened to you tonight?”

Kayla didn’t answer. She wouldn’t even know where to begin. The woman led Kayla to the kitchen.

“Here, take a seat… That’s it.”

The woman grabbed a tissue box and placed it on the table in front of her.

What was that for? Kayla placed her hand on her cheek and noticed there were tears streaming down. That’s odd.

She heard a meow come from under the table. The tabby cat looked up at her while carefully avoiding the puddle on the floor. Kayla noticed she left a red-tinted watery trail from the foyer all the way down to the kitchen. Looking behind her, she saw the woman hastily wiping the floor with a rag, moving it around with her slipper, soaking up the mess.

Kayla grabbed one of the towels and started to dry herself properly. Looking back again she noticed the older woman had wavy grey hair and thick round glasses. She was wearing a baggy ruby plaid housecoat. Looking around the kitchen she heard the low hum of the fridge. Spotted freshly picked red, yellow, and pink daises in a makeshift vase on the counter in the corner. On the floor by the wall, there were two empty pet food bowls with an automatic water dish beside them. Near the side of the kitchen there was a door slightly open that led to another room. Kayla leaned back, trying to see in.

“Okay, let’s get you looked after.” The woman pulled up another chair and sat herself across from Kayla. “Here, prop your injured leg up so I can take a look at it.”

Kayla winced as she did.

“Let’s hope it’s not too bad as hospitals and emergency services aren’t available.” Said the woman who looked at her cautiously. “I’m Eleanor by the way. What’s your name dear?”

“I’m Kayla. Thanks for letting me in.”

It looked as if the woman let out a small sigh of relief. “Of course, it’s no problem at all. I was listening to an old record when Mr. Whiskers over there started crying and pawing at something in the window. I peeked out and saw you there in the pouring rain.”

Kayla glanced back to where Eleanor pointed. The Maine Coon was sprawled on her back, across the threshold of the hallway and the room with the crackling fire. Turning her attention back to the Eleanor, she saw that she was staring at her leg, visibly troubled. The dark wound was still oozing blood.

“Goodness. Is that a bite?”

“Yes,” said Kayla

“Did… Did you get attacked by an animal?”

Kayla hesitated before answering.

“Yes.” Kayla didn’t want to lie but she knew she had to. She couldn’t risk scaring Eleanor and having her refuse to help her leg. Besides, it wasn’t a full lie—the creature that attacked her could most definitely be considered an animal.

“Well, alrighty then,” Eleanor said with a strained smile. “Let’s get you bandaged up. I’m afraid we’ll have to do this without any local anesthesia.” As Eleanor rummaged through her supplies for the best bandage to use, Kayla nodded and carefully swept her hair over her neck. The last thing she wanted was for Eleanor to see she had been bitten twice.

Kayla watched as Eleanor cleaned the gash on her leg, wincing and trying not to squirm when she applied the antiseptic.

“Oh, do try to keep still please.”

“Sorry.” Kayla shut her eyes tight and clenched the sides of her chair until Eleanor was done putting in all the stitches.

“Alright, the worst is over—looks like you got lucky,” said Eleanor. “If it was any deeper it would have nicked an artery.”

“What?” Kayla leaned forward and looked at her leg, which was now stitched and bandaged.

“I had to wrap some gauze around it, and it’ll need a couple of dressing changes, but you should be good to go in a week or so.”

Kayla was confused. “But there was so much blood.” She didn’t mean to say it out loud.

Eleanor shook her head. “Wasn’t much, only when pressure was applied. The gauze will help with that, and your body will do the rest.” She got up to wash her hands in the kitchen sink.

Kayla stared down at the bandage on her leg. She could have sworn her thigh was gushing blood—she remembered the panic and fear she had when she tried to use her hands to staunch the flow.

Eleanor started clearing the used medical supplies off the table. Kayla looked over and saw some bloodied gauze Eleanor collected it to toss out, but it certainly wasn’t as bloodied as it ought to have been. It should have been soaked in blood. Kayla slumped back into her chair as Eleanor left the room.

Was it possible she remembered it wrong? That the wound was never severe, that the memory of her bleeding uncontrollably was somehow exaggerated? It had been dark, yes—but standing beneath a streetlamp that shone directly down on her. She saw the cut. She remembered seeing the blood washing down her leg and onto the pavement.

Then it dawned on her.

Of course!

She shook her head at her stupidity.

The rain.

The rain must have made it seem like there was more blood than there actually was.

Kayla let out a small, frustrated chuckle. How stupid she had been—to actually believe she was going to die. Bleed out right there on the curb. She panicked for nothing.

Glancing back down at her leg, the clean white bandage mocked her. Heck her own memory mocked her. She hoped Eleanor didn’t think she was a crazy nut job.

Speaking of which—where had Eleanor gone?

Kayla paused. The music that had been playing earlier was gone. It was now completely silent.

She turned around. The room with the flickering lights was now dark.

Then, without warning, the tabby cat leapt onto the table in front of her, letting out a loud, sharp meow.

“Jeeze!” said Kayla, startled. She took a deep breath and put her face in her hands.

Eleanor walked back in. “You must be exhausted. I think it’s time you got some rest.”

*

Eleanor stood at the top of the stairs as Kayla trudged up behind her. She was sick of stairs and would have much rather curled up by the fireplace instead, especially since she felt like she was going to pass out at any moment.

“The room to the left belongs to my daughter,” Eleanor said softly. “There should be some clean clothes in there for you, just help yourself to whatever fits.”

Eleanor opened the door to the room for Kayla to see. The room was dark, with flickers of lightning flashing through the windows. “You should be comfortable in here.”

“Thank you,” said Kayla, who was still wrapped in a towel.

“And over there is the bathroom, if you’d like to wash up before bed. Plumbing seems to be working for now, but I’m not sure how much longer that’ll last.”

Kayla smiled and said thank you once more as she limped into the bedroom.

“Of course, if you need anything, my room is down the hall. Goodnight, dear.” Eleanor closed the door behind her.

Tossing the towel aside, Kayla made a beeline for the bed, barely able to muster the energy to do anything else. She was still damp from the rain, but her eyelids were heavy and her body was tired and sore. She didn’t want to move anymore. Lying on the bed, she pulled the blanket over herself and felt a wave of calm wash over her.

She watched the streaks of rain on the window and let her mind wander to thoughts of her mother and brother, wondering where they were and if it was raining where they were, too. She hoped not, as her little brother feared thunderstorms. She hoped wherever they were it was a calm and peaceful night. She hoped they could see the stars and that they were warm and safe like she was. Listening to the gentle pitter-patter on the rooftop, she drifted into a deep sleep.

Kayla woke up to the sound of birds chirping. She squinted her eyes against the shining sun. It must be late in the day

She looked around confused, trying to get her bearings. For a moment she didn’t know where she was. It only lasted a moment, though. Soon the memories came flooding in and the events of the last forty-eight hours hit her like a freight train. Her brief respite from her pain and grief was over. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, refusing to break down despite the weight of it all.

“North,” she whispered. “I have to find a way north.”

Her stomach began to rumble. Looking down at herself in the daylight, she saw that she was filthy—muddy with bits of blood spattered and smeared on her skin. She noticed the dirty mess she left on the bed linens and felt awful for mucking them up with dirt, grime, and blood. As tired as she was last night, she should have at least changed her clothes.

She looked around for the closet or dresser, and it was then that she was finally seeing the room for the first time. The bed linens were fluffy and pink—at least they were until she ruined them. Looking at the walls she saw posters of a boyband that hadn’t had a single hit in a decade. She remembered jamming to their songs when she was younger. Hanging from the ceiling and strung up around the room were small twinkling lights.

She walked over to the dresser, on top of which were some old lip gloss tubes and drugstore-brand eyeshadow palettes in pastel colors. They mustn’t have been used in years as mold had set in and some of the colors were starting to fade. She pulled open the second drawer of the dresser and found neatly folded clothes—undisturbed and cold to the touch, as if no one had used them in years.

Kayla noticed the dresser was dusty, as was the bedside nightstand, and the white L-shaped desk in the corner. A sense of unease and dread rose up in Kayla and she knew it wasn’t because of her hunger. She grabbed an oversized purple sweater and drawstring sweatpants, along with a pair of cotton socks, then headed for the bathroom.

She stepped out of the shower. Though she had tried to keep her bandage dry, she saw that it still got wet. She hoped Eleanor wouldn’t mind. She wiped the fog off the mirror and sighed heavily as she looked at her reflection. Her curly hair was all knotted and tangled. Her brown eyes were still a bit swollen and puffy from crying. Her gaze went down to her neck, moving the strands of wet hair away, and she leaned in closer to get a better look at the scabbed cut that no longer resembled a bite mark. Rubbing her arm, she noticed the cut on it had become nothing more than a deep scratch.

She found a brush in the cabinet above the mirror and got to work on detangling her hair. She then changed into her clothes that, despite being junior sized, seemed to fit her small frame well enough.

She could smell cooked eggs, bacon, and toast as she went downstairs. It was mouthwatering, and she nearly tripped trying to get down the stairs faster. though to Kayla’s disappointment, Eleanor wanted to take care of the wet bandage first.

“I heard the shower running and figured you may need a new dressing.”

“Thanks,” Kayla said as she propped her leg up for her.

“Bandages may be hard to come by these days, so if you do intend to shower again please let me know. That way we can wrap it up and keep it dry.” Eleanor smiled kindly at her.

Kayla nodded. “How do you know how to do all this?”

“Ah, well, I’m retired now, but I was a nurse for more than forty years. Used to work over at the hospital by Admiral street. How fast those years go by,” she said.

“Are you married?” Kayla asked. She was hesitant to ask about her daughter.

“Yes, I’m married. I met my husband while working. He was a patient of mine. He was admitted for an accident. He’s a construction worker, you see—he’s always around tools and sharp objects. Anyways, one day he was up on the scaffolding at a construction site when machinery from high up fell several floors. He was able to dodge out of the way. Sadly, though he landed horribly on his arm. It was twisted up pretty badly. The bone was protruding out. It was quite a sight.”

Kayla nodded, imagining the gruesome image.

Eleanor continued, “He was rushed to the emergency room, still wearing his orange reflective vest. I was the attending nurse. He was a good sport about it all. He barely complained—and even cracked a few bone jokes. What were they again?” she added softly, trying to remember. “Oh! What do you call a funny bone? The humerus. And the other was where do you imprison a guilty skeleton?”

Kayla shrugged, smiling.

“The ribcage!” Eleanor laughed. “He always did say he knew he was in good hands that night.” She smiled at the memory. “When we discharged him, he asked one of my co-workers for my number. My co-worker—Karen was her name—well, she thought I worked too much and she actually gave my number to him!” Eleanor looked up at Kayla with a shocked expression and Kayla feigned a surprised look.

“He could have been some kind of nutter! But it turned out to be a blessing because we’ve been married for thirty-six years now. Though I didn’t invite Karen to the wedding,” she added slyly.

“Where is he?” asked Kayla.

The smile on her face faded away. “He went out for a supply run. Anyways—we should eat! Don’t want the food to get cold!”

Chapter Nineteen

Neither of them said anything while they ate breakfast. Kayla was devouring her meal as it felt like a century since she had bacon and scrambled eggs on toast. Every once in a while, she would peek up at Eleanor. She had a side of mixed berry oatmeal with her dish and was eating contently.

Kayla wondered if she had struck a nerve when she asked about her husband. This woman had shown her incredible kindness, and she was grateful for everything she had done. But Kayla couldn’t help but wonder what Eleanor was hiding. She was feeling a bit squeamish about the bed she slept in and who it belonged to especially since she was wearing that person’s clothes.

When did he leave for that supply run? Why hasn’t he returned yet? Kayla wondered.

Eleanor got up to grab the pitcher of orange juice from the fridge. Kayla spotted the green tank by the counter that she must have wheeled in earlier.

Oh no, Kayla thought. What if they went up north, leaving her behind because she was sick? They wouldn’t do that, would they?

Eleanor topped up Kayla’s glass with juice and asked if she wanted some more eggs. Kayla nodded at the chance for a second helping.

They didn’t leave—no, that can’t be it. There has to be more to it.

Kayla decided it was time to find out. Clearing her throat, she said, “You know, I didn’t think anyone was still around. When I was walking, the streets were so empty, and all the houses seemed dark and vacant. I figured everyone went up north.”

Eleanor nodded. “Yes, it would seem most of my neighbors took that nutty man’s advice and traveled in that direction. We thought about it, but with my predicament,” she said, eyeing her tank, “I have respiratory complications and, well, we thought it best to just tough it out here in our home. I’ll admit it’s been scary, as there have been some nasty rumors of break-ins recently. It’s why we try not to turn the lights on at the front of the house. We’re trying to remain inconspicuous until everything passes.”

Kayla looked at Eleanor confused. “Passes?”

“Yes. Until this virus has either run its course or is cured.” She sighed. “I do wonder how many years this one will last.” She looked up at Kayla, “Good Heavens, child, what are you giving me that look for?”

Kayla continued to gawk at her. Her fork lingering in the air. Does… Does she not know?

“What about your family? They didn’t want to go up north either?”

“We… We did. Well, we tried, but it was too late,” Kayla stuttered quietly.

“Too late? What do you mean?” Eleanor chuckled a bit. “North isn’t going anywhere, is it?”

Kayla didn’t say anything.

“Well, I think we’ve avoided the question long enough. Care to tell me what happened to you last night?”

Kayla looked at her still dumbfounded. “I’m not sure you’d believe me if I did.”

“Try me.”

Kayla took another sip of orange juice before speaking. She decided if she was going to tell the story, she was going to start from the beginning. She took a steady breath and then started recounting the events from the beginning, giving an abridged version, as there were some parts she couldn’t yet say aloud, the parts that would cause her to burst into tears. She did her best, but some moments were hard for her to get through.

“Good grief,” Eleanor interrupted, “are people really referring to the infected as vampires?” She shook her head in disbelief. “Sorry, please go on.”

“Well, then there was the war between the soldiers and… and the infected,” Kayla continued. “There were guns, tanks, and explosions. I hid and waited for the soldiers to win but… they didn’t. They lost and ran away.”

Eleanor raised a hand to pause Kayla’s story. “Just so I understand, there was apparently a great battle between the military and the infected folks who were abducting people, and the military had to retreat?”

“Yeah, the ones that weren’t killed anyways. There were dead bodies everywhere,” Kayla said stoically, trying to keep her resolve.

“Now, I’m a sound sleeper, but I would suspect something as loud as a war would wake me up.” Eleanor hesitated for a moment. “Hmm, I do remember seeing black smoke from my window… but it was quite far away—nothing but a dark smudge in the distance…” she said, her words trailing off as though she wasn’t completely sure. Both cats sauntered into the kitchen, as if they too wanted to hear Kayla’s story.

“Yes, there was black smoke from the explosions,” said Kayla, hating the way Eleanor was being so cavalier about it.

Eleanor continued to look at her confused but nodded for her to go on, and Kayla went on with her story up until the moment Eleanor found her in the storm.

There was silence for a few minutes before Eleanor finally said, “Let me start off by saying well done fighting that man off. Good for you!”

“Thank you.” Kayla still didn’t know how she did it, she remembered kicking and pushing with everything she had—and the sound of a streetlamp breaking. She wondered if maybe someone else was there in the darkness that night and pulled him off her long enough for her to get away.

“I mean it, there’s a special place in hell for men like that. As for the rest… Well, that is quite a story.” Eleanor got up to make a pot of coffee. “You a coffee drinker, dear?”

Kayla shook her head. She watched the cats as they laid in the sunny spots on the kitchen floor.

“Alright,” said Eleanor, taking a seat with her mug of sweetened coffee. “Now these… vampires…” she hesitated before saying the word. “Did they have any symptoms indicative of rabies? For example, seizures, headaches, fevers, or some sort of cognitive decline? Did they present themselves with overly aggressive behavior that could have resulted in fits of rage?”

Kayla took a moment before answering. “I would say most of them were pretty aggressive, yeah.” She found the question odd and hated it.

Eleanor nodded, “Right, right.” She scrunched up her face, as if she was trying to figure out a hard mathematical equation—an enigma that wasn’t meant to be solved. She cast suspicious glances at Kayla before shaking her head and mumbling to herself, “If it was airborne it would make more sense, as those are the more infectious strains. They spread like wildfire. But this…” she shook her head again.

She continued, “You would have to be in direct proximity to one, but I’m not sure they even got that right.” She glanced at Kayla before taking another sip. “Now, I guess it would depend on the incubation rate, but if it’s spreading this rapidly, so quick that it’s caused a worldwide crisis, I daresay the symptoms should appear nearly instantaneous—if not within a day or two.”

Kayla didn’t say anything, as she tried to follow Eleanor’s train of thought. From what she could gather from her mumbling, it seemed Eleanor was trying to guess how the disease was spread, something Kayla also didn’t have the answer to because she was bitten not just once but twice now and she wasn’t infected. She had already tested out the theory. Nor did she have urges to do anything… monstrous.

“Maybe it’s some kind of vector!” Suddenly Eleanor looked at Kayla. “Did any of the infected mention getting bit by bugs or insects recently? Or come into contact with any birds?”

Kayla had no idea what she was going on about and finally blurted out, “They’re vampires. Everything you thought you knew about this disease—everything they told us—is wrong. There isn’t any other possibility. I know how crazy that sounds, but it’s the only explanation.”

“Right, we have a bunch of Draculas running around.” Eleanor stifled a sigh. “I’m sure the illness is making the infected appear very strange and act highly unusual. And… and then you have those sick lunatics, taking advantage of these chaotic times to traffic humans…”

Eleanor shook her head. “The depths of depravity humans reduce themselves to will never cease to horrify me. Though I’m still grappling with the fact that the military couldn’t do more to stop them. Admittedly, I’m quite surprised by that part of your story—”

“They’re not just sick lunatics! Their appearance isn’t just strange! It’s monstrous! Terrifying! Their eyes are literally glowing! They move insanely fast and they have crazy strength! I saw them flip over a tank! And they’re biting people!”

Kayla hesitated before quickly adding, “There are people who’ve said they’ve seen that.” Kayla’s eyes were starting to water up now, which frustrated her even more, as she didn’t want to cry. “They’re evil and heartless and murderers.”

Eleanor had a grave look on her face as she listened to Kayla’s words. “So, they have become mindless beasts then. It must not be a virus. The disease must be some kind of parasitic entity that’s altering their brain faculties.” She was speaking more to herself than to Kayla. “This is more serious than I thought.”

“Beasts! Yes!” Kayla was relieved that Eleanor was finally getting it. “But mindless? I wouldn’t really say mindless. I mean they can still talk and they act human. The only thing that tells you they’re not human are their eyes. They’re eyes are either pitch black or neon bright.”

“I see. Where did you say all this happened again? Where the trafficking took place?”

“I don’t know, I’m not familiar with this city and I don’t remember any street names. It was a warehouse or an old factory or something.” Kayla tried to remember something to describe its location. “It had a statue in the front and was near a parking garage—”

“Was it a statue or a fountain?”

Kayla closed her eyes as she tried to picture it. “It was really old, with chunks of stone missing but, yeah, I think it was a fountain or was one at some point. It was covered in—”

That sounds like the old industrial factory, the one that’s been closed down for nearly thirty years. That used to be an old stomping ground for me and my friends back in the day. But that place is miles away. Did you drive down here?”

“What? No, you already know how I got here!”

Eleanor shook her head. “Then you must be mistaken. I’m sorry, dear, but your story just doesn’t seem plausible.”

“You think I’m just making it all up then?” Kayla snapped.

Eleanor took a breath. “I think perhaps you’re misremembering or reimagining a few of the events. It would be quite normal considering what you’ve been through. Traumatic events can greatly alter one’s perception or—”

“You think I’m lying?”

Eleanor looked at Kayla calmly. “That cut on your leg… It wasn’t an animal that bit you, was it? If I had to hazard a guess, I would say it was from that rabid man who attacked you.”

“Yeah, so?” She didn’t say it accusingly, but Kayla felt cornered. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Well, that could mean a great deal. I had assumed that the transmission for this illness was by direct contact. But if that was the case then you would be showing symptoms. I’ve been watching you closely and you seem fine.”

“I am fine!” Kayla shouted.

“I’ve upset you. I apologize. Perhaps we should take a break and continue this conversation later.”

“No, we may as well finish it now,” said Kayla. “You think I’m lying about being attacked by vampires, and about my mother and brother being taken by vampires. You think I’m lying when I say vampires killed my father and—”

“All I’m saying is that there must be a reasonable explanation for all this that is more probable than mankind being turned into bloodsucking creatures for Christ’s sake! It’s ridiculous!”

“Where is your husband?” Kayla said in a biting tone.

Eleanor was taken aback by the question. “I… I already told you. He went out for supplies.”

“When did he leave? Because I find it odd that he’s not back by now.” Kayla knew she was going too far but she was seething inside.

“He will be back soon,” Eleanor said bluntly. “You are being incredibly rude.”

“What about your daughter? Where is she? That was a young girl’s room that I slept in. She should be here somewhere!”

“My children are none of your concern!”

“Children?” Kayla scoffed. “How many are missing?” As soon as the words spilled out of her mouth she knew she had gone too far. She watched as Eleanor’s eyes teared up and her lip quivered. The sight was unbearable, and Kayla’s anger dissipated until all that was left was guilt and regret.

“I was just wondering,” she tried to say in a softer tone.

“No, no, you’re right,” Eleanor said sniffling. “I wasn’t trying to hide it from you. I just didn’t want to discuss it. Foolish of me really, considering how much I pried from you.”

Kayla felt a knot in her chest. She suddenly didn’t want to know.

“That room upstairs did belong to my daughter. When she was thirteen, she passed away in a terrible accident.” Eleanor let out a ragged sigh before continuing. “It was a regular sunny day, and the twins wanted to go to the beach. Summer break had just started and they were excited to be out of school. Charles and I were lying on the sand. He was taking a snooze while I kept an eye on the children.”

Eleanor paused for a moment and then continued. “I remember it suddenly got cold. The wind picked up and I looked up to see a few clouds blocking the sun. I watched as my two kids frolicked in the water, jumping over the waves and squealing with joy. Then there was one wave that crept up on them. I didn’t think anything of it until it got closer. The wave got tall—taller than the rest that came before—it made my heart stop, and I stood up. ‘It’s okay,’ I thought, the kids will just jump over this one too. But the wave came crashing down on them and they went under. I ran over to them screaming their names, but only my son came back up to the surface.” Eleanor looked away and closed her eyes tight from the memory.

Kayla wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yes, well it was a long time ago. We never could bring ourselves to clean out her room. We were content with just leaving the door closed—preserve the illusion that she was still inside.”

Eleanor shook her head. “I dealt with death every day, but nothing could have prepared me for that moment.” She took a sip of her coffee. “Her brother, Julian, is twenty-three now and he went up north. I was hoping we would hear from him by now, but we’ve heard nothing. We don’t even have an address to mail anything to him, though I don’t suppose the postal service is still up and running nowadays,” she added as an afterthought.

“Still, I wish I could send him some type of message. As for my husband,” she hesitated before continuing, looking down at her hands, “He left a couple days before the storm on his supply run. And, yes, he should be back by now.” She took a deep breath. “I fear the worst.”

The silence at that moment was palpable. The sound was broken only when the Maine Coon came in and rubbed up against Eleanor’s leg and meowed.

Kayla didn’t know what to say but felt she should say something. “I’m sure your husband will be back soon. The storm was bad yesterday. He probably had to stay somewhere to wait it out. I bet he’ll come through that door any minute now.” Kayla didn’t dare say what she was actually thinking—that maybe he was one of the elderly men in the cages.

“Thanks, dear.” Eleanor was still sniffling. “He thought it was all nonsense anyways, that there was nothing up north that we didn’t have here.” Eleanor got up and grabbed a tin container out of the cupboard. Both cats came rushing towards her as she offered them treats. “We should have gone up north when we had the chance,” she added quietly.

“When he comes back you guys can go. It’s not like north is going anywhere, right?” said Kayla. As she tried to lighten the mood she darkened.

“Oh, we’ve already tried!” Eleanor said bursting into tears. She collected herself, putting the container back in the cupboard. “We tried to drive up north a couple weeks ago, but we didn’t make it…”

Eleanor began to share her story with Kayla.

Chapter Twenty

“Is everything in the car, packed and ready to go?” Eleanor stood by the foyer, holding a sweater in case the ride got cold.

“I think so. We fit as much as we can into the back. It’ll be a tight squeeze for Julian”, Charles said. Julian jogged down the stairs to join them.

“Oh, I’ll sit in the back. He can have the front,” said Eleanor.

“No, it’s okay, Mom, I’ll be fine.”

“Let’s head out,” Charles said as he fastened his holster to ensure his Glock 43 fit snugly.

Eleanor rolled her eyes. “Ah, yes. It’d be a shame to forget that, wouldn’t it?”

“These are dangerous times, Eleanor,” Charles said.

“The amount of gun-inflicted injuries I have seen in my entire career,” she shook her head, “most of which could have easily been prevented if those things weren’t so readily available.”

“Can we not do this now,” Charles sighed as he opened the front door and headed out.

“Come on, let’s not fight,” Julian said, passing her on the way out.

Eleanor held her hands up. “Alright, alright. Let’s hit the road!”

They drove through downtown and passed by a slew of stores that had been burglarized—people running out with items they didn’t pay for. “My goodness, look at all the damage! Look, honey—Jack’s and Sharon’s shop was targeted!”

Charles shook his head. “State of emergencies always bring out the worst in people.”

“It’s okay, I know the Millers have already headed up north,” said Julian.

As they moved through the city and towards the 400 exit, Charles groaned. “This doesn’t look good. It’s backed up already.”

“Well, we knew this might be the case, dear, with everyone trying to leave at once.”

“Look!” said Julian, pointing up ahead at a wreck. Three cars must have collided while turning on the exit at the same time at full speed. One car had slid far out into the grassy field. One of the cars was blocking the farthest right lane. All three cars were ablaze. The cars were charred black now but flames were still blowing in the wind. Pieces of metal and tempered glass shards were scattered everywhere.

Eleanor was shocked. “Look at all the people just driving around it. Honey, pull over. We have to stop!”

Charles continued to drive slowly pass the accident. “There’s no one inside—you can see. It looks like the wreck has been there awhile. Besides, I don’t want to stop, I want to keep moving. Let emergency services handle it.”

Eleanor took her phone out. “I wonder if emergency services are even aware it’s there.” She dialed 911 before looking at her phone confused.

“What’s wrong?” asked Julian, peeking over her shoulder from the backseat.

“My phone—it’s not working. I made sure to charge it before we left! I swear I did!”

“Let me try,” said Julian, pulling out his phone. “No, Mom, it’s not just your phone. It’s my phone too… The phone lines must be down. We can’t make any calls—not even to 911!”

“Oh my goodness!”

Charles shook his head and grunted. “I’m not stopping this car.” They drove on for a while before they had no choice.

“Told ya we should have taken the back roads,” said Julian as they got to the highway.

“That would have taken us twice as long,” said Charles.

“Yeah, cause us driving bumper to bumper is definitely getting us there faster.”

“Boys, enough. We’ll get there when we get there.”

“This has to go on for miles,” said Charles, craning his neck to see out farther.

“We should have taken the back roads,” Julian said again under his breath.

“No, what we should have done is stayed home,” barked Charles. “That’s what they wanted us to do.”

“Please! Don’t argue.” Eleanor said.

“Everyone is going north. With the death toll rising, it just wasn’t safe to stay put,” Julian retorted.

“Yeah? Tell me, when did we start trusting folks with podcasts more than our own government officials?”

“Since the government turned out to be shady,” said Julian.

Charles scoffed. “The government has always been shady, but I have no idea who this Hermit guy is, and I sure as hell didn’t vote for him to make our decisions.”

“Times are changing dear…” Eleanor said softly, leaning her head against the passenger side window.

“Oh man, what’s that guy doing?” asked Julian, as they watched a car in front of them pull out of the line of traffic and drive up on the shoulder of the road.

Eleanor shook her head. “Some people have no patie— What! You can’t be serious!” Charles maneuvered their car and followed the other guy up the shoulder, passing looks of annoyed people in other cars. Eventually a few of them followed suit.

“That’s illegal,” said Eleanor.

“Yeah? Who you gonna call?” said Charles with a smirk.

They all burst into laughter, but it quickly died down when their path got blocked yet again. “Damn, it’s congested up here too!” said Charles.

“I’m going to go out and see what’s holding us up,” said Julian.

“What? But we’re on the highway! Be careful!” Eleanor cried out as he slammed the door shut and walked up ahead until he was out of sight.

“We should just turn back,” mumbled Charles.

“All this commotion for something so tiny.”

“Huh?”

“The virus—a tiny microscopic pathogen that can halt the entire world.”

“You would think the W.H.O. would be more expertly inclined to stop this sort of thing from happening,” said Charles.

Eleanor nodded as she noticed other people were also getting out of their vehicles to check what was holding them up. It wasn’t too long before Julian came jogging back. Charles rolled down his window. “What is it?”

“It’s the military,” Julian said.

Eleanor looked back, turning around as Julian got back inside. “What do you mean it’s the military?”

“There are soldiers up ahead and they’ve blocked the lanes. Looks like they’re setting up barriers to only let one lane pass.”

“Why on Earth would they do that for?” Eleanor asked.

“So, which lane are we supposed to be in?” Charles sighed deeply as he put his turn signal on.

“I don’t know, Mom, and just the next one over, Dad,” Julian said.

It was a while before they started to move—a slow crawl with constant starting and stopping.

Charles shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Honey, you okay?”

“Yes, it’s just my arthritis. Joints are getting stiff.”

“Dad, let me know when you need to switch out driving.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Charles said with a wave of his hand.

As they continued to inch forward, they saw many cars driving on the other side of the highway, heading back in the direction they had come from.

“Lots of people seem to be turning around,” murmured Eleanor.

When they got to the front, it was indeed reduced to one lane, with several soldiers by the barricade with rifles in hand. They got to the end and were stopped by a soldier in a dark military uniform.

“What’s the purpose of your travel today?” the soldier asked.

“Well,” Charles shifted in his seat nervously, “we’re heading north.”

“Are you aware that our government has mandated for its citizens to remain in the city and quarantine during this time?” the soldier said.

“Are you aware of our constitutional rights?”

“Julian!” Eleanor turned and glared at him.

The soldier ignored the outburst. “Due to the misinformation of evacuating north, the trip there has become dangerous. Gangs and violent factions of people have taken over the smaller cities and are committing heinous crimes due to the decrease of law enforcement presence.”

“Well, why aren’t you guys stopping them? Why are the police decreasing their—”

“Our resources have been redirected to the bigger cities to help contain the spread. However, in doing so it’s made the travel up north treacherous.”

“Why isn’t 911 working?” asked Julian.

“Our emergency dispatch systems are temporarily down in select cities at the moment.”

“Why?” Eleanor asked, as several people in the cars behind them honked their horns.

“You are free to continue on, but we have been directed to inform you that you will be traveling in high-risk conditions and will most likely encounter violent or aggressive threats. There have been reports of abductions, murders, and thefts from people who also thought it was a good idea to head up north. It’s our duty today to warn you that if you continue on, you are doing so at your own risk.”

Eleanor looked over at Charles, worryingly.

“Dad, let’s just go,” Julian said.

“Hold on,” said Charles, stressed out and holding a hand up to shush his son. He needed a moment to process what the soldier was saying as more honking came from behind. It sounded as if someone farther back stuck his head out his window yelling, “Get a move on already!”

“Why are the lanes blocked off!?” shouted another.

The soldier continued, “You can, however, make a U-turn up ahead and turn around. We have the city well protected and can assure you would be safer staying at home.”

Charles looked over at Eleanor, who sighed and nodded. “Alright, sir, thank you. We’ll be on our way.”

The soldier nodded, stepping back and waving them through.

Charles drove up until he reached the U-turn connector between the highway.

“No, Dad—don’t!” said Julian.

“Honey, we have to. It’s the best thing to do,” Eleanor said gently.

Julian slumped against the backseat. “This is bullshit! What is he even talking about anyways? ‘Violent factions’? What does that even mean?”

“It means there are lawless cities between here and up north and all hell broke loose—and that we’re on our own if something goes wrong out there.”

Eleanor turned around to face Julian. “I know you really wanted to go but look at us. We can’t fight off violent thugs. The stress alone…” she hesitated. “We are going to stay in the city and quarantine and that’s that.”

Julian shook his head but didn’t say anything more as they headed back into the city.

“We’ve used up most of our supplies,” said Charles suddenly. “Since we were leaving, I didn’t bother to do any grocery shopping.”

“Yes, we should stop off somewhere and find a place to pick-up supplies and canned goods. Who knows how long we’ll be hunkering down for.”

“Most of the places are probably already cleaned out,” said Julian quietly.

“We’ll have to try going to the superstore on the far side of the city. It’s a little out of the way but maybe they’ll have supplies, and some things left on the shelves.”

*

A couple of hours later they got home from shopping.

“I can’t believe the chaos out there,” said Eleanor when they got back to the house. “People just screaming at those poor cashiers.”

The door slammed shut as Julian headed inside. As he was about to head upstairs Charles said, “Julian.”

Julian turned to face him on the stairs.

“Here.” His dad held out the car keys for him.

“What are those for?” Eleanor said.

“He’s a grown man. He’s able to make his own decisions.”

“He can’t go up there by himself!” Eleanor cried.

“Help unpack the car first. Most of it will go in the pantry.”

Julian didn’t say anything. He just rushed out to the car to bring in the rest of the bags.

“What are you doing?” Eleanor hissed as Charles walked back out to help. He sighed heavily and headed to the car.

After everything had been brought back inside—except for a few supplies Julian would need—he turned to look at them. Eleanor’s eyes welled with tears. “Now, you be polite to that soldier!” she said.

“Your mother’s right. Show respect.”

“I’m going to try the back roads,” said Julian. “I don’t want to get stuck in that gridlock again.”

Charles nodded. “You have your…” he gestured to his own holster.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s in my bag.”

“Take it out and have it close to you at all times.”

“Oh, I don’t like this at all!” Eleanor cried.

“I’m going to be okay, Mom,” said Julian, and he pulled her in for a hug. “I’ll head up there and see what’s going on. Maybe I’ll get more answers.”

“Call us when you get there,” said Eleanor.

“Well, if the phones start back up I will. I’ll bring my cell and the charger just in case.”

“Oh, I forgot!” cried Eleanor.

Charles sighed. “Let’s deal with one problem at a time. Besides there must be some way to contact people. How else would those soldiers communicate?”

“Mom, I’ll be fine.”

Eleanor went in for another hug. “Just be careful please,” she whispered.

“Be smart out there, keep your head down, and keep moving,” Charles said with a hand on Julian’s shoulder.

Julian hugged him tightly. “Thanks, Dad.”

“We love you!” said Eleanor.

“I love you guys too.” Then he got inside the truck and drove off, his parents waving from the front porch.

“Promise me he’ll be okay,” whispered Eleanor.

Charles wrapped his arm around her and held her close. “He’ll be okay.”

*

A few days later, Charles came down the stairs and turned on his record player, letting the sounds of jazz fill up the family room. He opened the floral curtains to let in the early morning sun. He missed not having the morning paper delivered, but he still relished the sunrise, the way it shone through the room. He then went over to the cherry wood bookshelf and picked out an old classic. Walking over to his favorite lounger he went to take a seat when suddenly there was a huge silver fluff ball in his spot, meowing and stretched out towards him, lightly scratching the leather before flipping onto its other side.

Charles just stared down at the creature. “How did you get in here?”

Still clutching his book, he stomped to the kitchen where Eleanor had just finished taking her medications and was putting them away.

“Why is the neighbor’s cat here?”

Eleanor chuckled, “They followed me home after my walk this morning. I tried to lead them back to their house, but it seems the neighbors have gone. They must have left in a hurry because their door wasn’t shut.”

“Their front door was left unlocked?”

“Yes, I thought it was strange. Perhaps their house was broken into. It wasn’t just their house either—a few houses on the block had their doors or windows open as well.” She shook her head. “Thieves and scoundrels… They sure do thrive during these times.”

“Is this that family with the kids who kept riding their bikes on the sidewalk?”

“They were too young to be on the road, dear. But, yes, that’s the one.”

“They were out there every time I went for my evening stroll. I swear they timed it!”

Ignoring the comment Eleanor said, “Yes, I remember the wife was pregnant with their third child. I guess they ventured up north. Surprised they would take the risk so late in the trimester. She looked pretty far along.” She shrugged. “And I’ve spoken to Barb.”

“Who?”

“The elderly neighbor a couple of streets behind us. She also noticed some houses on her street had their doors left wide open.”

“See—that’s why they wanted us to leave…. So they can burglarize our homes.” Charles absentmindedly put his hand on his waist before realizing his gun wasn’t on him. He walked over to the kitchen window and peered out. “They haven’t come here yet,” he continued, “because we’re not gone.”

“Can you spot any of them lurking in our bushes?” Eleanor said with a smile.

He turned to her. “This is no laughing matter. You shouldn’t have gone out by yourself.”

Eleanor waved him off. “You know the fresh air is good for me. Besides I can’t just stay cooped up inside. I must say, though, as eerie as it seemed at first, it’s nice how quiet the streets are—no cars on the road, no sounds but the birds and the wind, the occasional critter scurrying about. Brings me back to my childhood days in the countryside, all those years ago.”

Charles smiled at her. “How have you been feeling? Are your medications still helping?”

“Oh yes, yes, I’m fine. Haven’t needed a puff of oxygen in days,” she joked.

“I can’t remember the last time you went for your refills…”

“I’m fine. Anyways, speaking of our furry guests, I couldn’t remember their names, so I named the cat you met Mr. Whiskers and that one over there is Pumpkin.”

Charles eyes widened as he spun around to see where she was pointing. Another furry creature—orange this time—was staring up at him curiously from below the kitchen table. Then it went and rubbed up against his leg, purring loudly. Charles looked at the intruder and sighed before heading back into the family room, mumbling that Pumpkin was a ridiculous name while thinking about which pieces of furniture to stack up against the front door.

Chapter Twenty-One

They were both silent for a long while. Kayla was thankful for her story. She understood the secrecy and that she wasn’t the only one who struggled with the loss of a family member. She looked at Eleanor more fondly now, knowing that she understood how Kayla felt more than she thought.

“You and my son are very much alike,” said Eleanor. “He wanted so badly to go north during this time. Both of you were practically frantic with the idea that north is the only safe place in this world.” She chuckled, “I will never understand the younger generation, and I no longer try to. Besides I think it has more to do with celebrities. They get involved and start spreading the word that there’s some kind of safe haven up north. Safe haven from what exactly?”

Kayla fought the urge to let out a heavy sigh, realizing Eleanor still didn’t quite understand yet. How could she? Would she herself have believed it if she hadn’t seen it for herself?

“And those videos! When he came home to visit, he used to watch horrid videos of those unspeakable crimes. The ones that supposedly led to all this. Have you seen them?”

Kayla nodded, remembering the videos of people desperately trying to get authorities worldwide to help find their missing loved ones. She realized now she was one of them. Only she couldn’t make a viral call for help like they did.

“They tried to tell us,” Kayla whispered. “The people in those videos, they tried to warn us that something was coming.”

Eleanor sighed. “Yes, well, throughout history, in times of great strife there are always those who tried to ‘sound the alarm,’ if you will. The warning usually falls on deaf ears until it’s too late. It’s hard to acknowledge when one’s peace is about to be disrupted. If you ignore it, look in the other direction, then maybe the evil will skip right on past you. And for some people that’s enough.”

Kayla nodded, not wanting to admit that she wished the evil had skipped over her family. Instead, she thought about Eleanor’s story. Maybe the soldiers didn’t retreat—at least not completely if they were watching over the border. If they’re there then she didn’t need to get north—she just needed to get to the soldiers.

“So, the soldiers are hanging around the outskirts of the city?” Kayla asked.

“Yes, it would seem so.”

“That’s great news! Don’t you see what this means? It means we don’t have to journey all the way north. We just need to find a way to them. Do you have a car?”

“Ah, well, no, my son took the only one we had. We got rid of our second one when we both retired.”

Kayla looked away.

Shoot!

There must be another way. Was the border walking distance? Would it be safe to go back out there?

“I don’t see why they would take us north. They weren’t too eager about citizens traveling up there when we tried. It looked to me like they were about to seal off the city, though I’m not too sure if that was the case.”

“Wait, what?”

Eleanor sighed. “Like I said, I’m not too sure, but thinking about it now that would make the most sense, as that is the protocol when it comes to worldwide contagions. The military would seal off cities to reduce the spread of the disease. It’s quite normal and common, and that’s probably what they were setting up to do.”

“No, they can’t do that! It doesn’t matter—I’m going to go and demand they find my family and take us north,” said Kayla. “Are you going to come?”

Eleanor looked away from her. “If that’s what you want to do, I won’t stop you. I will remain here and wait for Charles to come home.”

Kayla felt a pang of guilt as she had forgotten that she was still waiting for her husband. “Right of course.”

“Besides, I always found those soldiers too intimidating. I don’t know why they insist on having them carry assault rifles and wear those black military uniforms with dark sunglasses. Why can’t they make them look a little friendlier when dealing with the public?”

“Sunglasses?” A feeling of dread washed over Kayla.

“Yes, they were all wearing them, which was odd because it wasn’t a particularly sunny day.”

“And they were completely dark? Like you couldn’t see their eyes?”

“Yes! They were nearly black. Guess it’s part of the uniform or dress code now.”

Kayla felt like she was going to throw up. She didn’t know for sure but the memories of the creepy workers from the warehouse flashed in her mind.

No. That… That wouldn’t make any sense.

She squeezed her eyes shut. “The vampires. The ones who kept us in cages—they were wearing black sunglasses. I think they do it to hide their eyes.”

“Kayla,” Eleanor spoke slowly, “there are no such things as vamp—”

“Oh my God!” Kayla slammed her fists on the table, making both Eleanor and the cats jump. Her hands were shaking, and she forced herself to speak in a calmer tone.

“Look, I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t understand any of it, but I have a bad feeling…” Nausea surged in her chest. “I think I’m going to be sick.” Kayla needed fresh air desperately but she wouldn’t risk stepping outside, not now. Instead, she lowered her head onto the table and stayed there, willing the world to stop spinning. Why did all of this have to happen?

Eleanor rushed to get her some water and placed the chilled glass on the table in front of her. Kayla didn’t move.

“Kayla, I— I don’t think those soldiers will physically prevent anyone from going through. It’ll just be heavily discouraged. I’m sure you can reason with them—tell them that’s where you’re meeting your family. A young girl such as yourself, all alone… I’m sure they would want to reunite you with them.”

Kayla didn’t say anything. Those soldiers, manning the borders of this city—probably all the cities from here to the north. In her gut, Kayla knew—it was starting to become clear to her. It wasn’t the military guarding the city borders, it was them. How else could the truck carrying her and the other victims been allowed to enter the city? Why else would they think it’d be safe to sell off people here? The more she thought about it, the more her body grew numb, and an overwhelming feeling of defeat washed over her. Those soldiers will not help her. They would enslave her.

“You said so yourself that the military tried to fight off the traffickers. Now you think they’re one and the same?” Eleanor reasoned.

Kayla didn’t say anything.

“Oh dear…” Eleanor went around the table, trying to get a better look at her. “Look, I know these are troubled times. And you’ve been through so much pain and suffering—the kind that even I couldn’t fathom. I’m afraid I do not have the medical expertise to help you through this but it won’t always be like this.” Eleanor paused and readied herself for a speech. “Life is full of highs and lows and regrettably, we are experiencing the lows right now. They will discover a cure and make this right. In time things will revert to normal. Well, a new normal. I know in my heart that you will see your family again. And in the meantime, you can stay with me. I have plenty of food and stocked goods—more than enough for both of us. I promise, dear, everything will be okay.”

Kayla remained unmoving, hardly noticing the tears running down her cheeks. Despite no longer being in that cage, Kayla still felt trapped.

*

Kayla and Eleanor didn’t speak much after their conversation. Kayla spent most of the day on the couch in the family room, staring out the window. From there, she could see the spot beneath the streetlamp—where she’d been before Eleanor found her.

Mr. Whiskers had curled up in her lap, his soft purring a quiet comfort as she leaned her head against the cold glass. In the background, she could hear Eleanor washing dishes and moving through the house, tidying up room by room.

At one point, Eleanor asked gently if Kayla preferred music or silence. Kayla said she didn’t mind either way. A few moments later, Eleanor wandered over to her old record player and put on a vinyl from a bygone era. Kayla watched the needle glide over the record, wondering how such a small movement could produce something as layered and alive as music.

She didn’t move for hours.

Eleanor went about her tasks—sweeping, dusting, vacuuming—while Kayla sat still, eyes fixed on the empty street. After the floors were mopped, Kayla heard the low hiss of the oxygen tank from the kitchen. She wondered if Eleanor’s illness was curable, or if the tank would follow her for the rest of her life.

Kayla knew she should offer to help, but after their earlier conversation, she couldn’t summon the energy. She just wanted to sit by the window and watch.

The street remained deserted. She imagined the soldiers—the good ones—had fought their way through the barricades at the city’s edge. They must have taken out the infected, right? She thought of the ones who’d stood guard at the trade post during the chaos. Who knew how long they’d fought before they finally fell back. Or gave up.

Maybe they were still out there, fighting somewhere else. She hoped so.

She wondered whether there were still military forces guarding the outskirts of the city, or if they’d all been overrun. Maybe Eleanor was right—maybe there was no point in leaving. Maybe she should just stay here until…

Until what?

Kayla rubbed her face with both hands.

It’s not a pandemic, she thought. It’s a goddamn invasion.

What was she even waiting for? For the good soldiers to win? She had already watched them lose. And if they couldn’t stop those things—those bloodsuckers—who could?

The impossibility of it all settled over her like a weight. The not knowing gnawed at her. The only thing she felt certain of was north. Maybe there was still a way out of the city. Underground tunnels or something. There had to be a way.

There has to be.

At some point the record player finished its last song and the atmosphere became quiet once again. Eleanor came in and turned the player off, looking for a book on the bookshelf. She hesitated and looked over at Kayla.

“Don’t suppose you would fancy a game of gin rummy?”

“I’ve never played before,” said Kayla dully.

Eleanor nodded and went back to picking out a book.

“Could you show me how to play?”

Eleanor turned and beamed a smile at her. “Of course, dear. It’s not difficult at all.” She went to grab the cards, and they spent the rest of the day playing, with Eleanor winning just about every hand.

*

Later that night, Kayla was remaking Eleanor’s daughter’s bed, swapping out the old sheets for fresh ones and getting ready to turn in. As the comforter floated into place, Pumpkin leapt onto the mattress, landing with a thump and letting out a surprised meow. She wiggled her way out from beneath the blanket and sprawled comfortably on top. Kayla shook her head with a soft smile and snuggled in beside her.

She was pleasantly surprised by how much fun she’d had that evening, playing card games with Eleanor. They’d laughed more than Kayla expected, and she found herself slowly warming to the idea of staying. After all, she didn’t have a better plan—and Eleanor had already offered her a place, even mentioning she had enough food stocked for both of them.

As she absentmindedly stroked Pumpkin’s orange fur, a thought struck her. She stopped mid-pet, got up, and quietly made her way downstairs. At the pantry, she opened the door and scanned the shelves. Eleanor hadn’t been exaggerating—the shelves were crammed with canned goods and non-perishables, more than enough to last a while.

Kayla stood there, frowning.

If they had this much food, she thought, then why did her husband go out? And why would

Eleanor lie?

Trudging back upstairs, she sighed heavily. She was getting tired of all the secrets.

The next morning, Kayla woke early, lying in bed as the soft sound of birdsong drifted through the window with the rising sun. She heard Eleanor heading downstairs—apparently an early riser. The two cats meowed and padded after her, their claws clicking faintly on the floor.

Despite the delicious breakfast Eleanor had made the day before, Kayla didn’t feel very hungry. She figured she should let Eleanor know before she felt the need to cook another feast. A bowl of cereal or a slice of toast would be more than enough.

She made her way to the kitchen, where the two cats were already eating from their bowls, too absorbed to look up as she entered.

Eleanor’s back was turned as she was organizing what looked like medication bottles with days of the week taped on them.

“Hi,” Kayla said.

Eleanor jumped, nearly spilling the contents of the bottle she was holding. “Oh, Kayla, hi. You’re up early this morning.”

“Sorry to startle you.”

“No, no that’s fine. Are you hungry? I could make pancakes if you like?”

“No thanks,” said Kayla. “Are those pills?”

“Ah, yes, an accompaniment of my chronic illness I’m afraid.”

Kayla walked over to her. As she got closer, she noticed that some of the orange bottles were almost empty. And the few remaining pills that were left had been cut in half. Kayla saw there was a pill cutter on the counter.

“He went for your meds.”

“What dear?”

Kayla didn’t mean to say it out loud as the realization hit. “Your husband. He went out to get you more medication, didn’t he? You were running low.”

Eleanor laughed dryly. “My goodness aren’t you an observant young woman. Yes. I tried to hide it from him. Told him I could alter some doses, monitor my activity levels…” She shook her head. “I told him I would be fine.”

Kayla didn’t say anything more. She got herself a glass of apple juice and put a slice of bread in the toaster.

“Want jam with that dear?”

“Sure, if you have some. Thanks.” Kayla kept eyeing the medication bottles on the counter, but she didn’t want to start another fight.

Eleanor plopped a jar of strawberry jam onto the table. “Are you wondering what kind of medications I’m taking?”

Kayla shrugged.

Smiling, Eleanor said, “Well, if that one runs out, my breathing will become slightly harder to manage, and,” pointing to another pill bottle, added, “that one there controls TIAs and keeps my mini strokes at bay. I’ll admit I’m a bit concerned what will happen if that runs out, but I imagine if I keep my stress down…” she gave a strained laugh, “well then maybe that can keep them at bay as well. There’s also one for my blood pressure…” She shrugged. “I know it must sound dire, but I assure you it’s not as serious as it seems and that’s what I tried to tell—”

She stopped herself before continuing. Looking Kayla straight in the eyes she added, “I will be fine. Okay?”

“Okay,” said Kayla as she took a bite of her toast, every fiber of her being telling her not to say anything more. Eleanor went to put the medications back into the cupboard.

“Did he go to the hospital to get the meds?”

“No, he said he was going to go to the superstore. They have a pharmacy in the back. It was fortified and locked up securely because of the uptick in theft in recent years. He hoped that maybe that one wouldn’t be emptied out completely just yet.”

Kayla nodded before taking another bite. Her mind telling her, let it go, Kayla, just let it go. “How far away is it?”

“Over an hour away. Would be even slower if I went, which is why he insisted on going alone.”

Kayla nodded again.

“I know what you’re thinking,” said Eleanor, as she prepared herself some mixed berry oatmeal.

“I’m not thinking anything really,” said Kayla, “just that you having a stroke would be pretty bad, that’s all.”

“If I take it easy, the negative effects shouldn’t be too severe.”

“Or we could go to that pharmacy and figure out why your husband hasn’t come home yet.”

Eleanor stopped preparing her oatmeal and stood still at the counter.

Kayla groaned internally. Why did she say that?

“I just mean maybe we could find a clue about his whereabouts. You must have thought about it.”

“Of course I’ve thought about it. But he went so far, the distance alone…” she shook her head. “And the criminals out there, the ones breaking into people’s homes. What if they’re still out there? And the infected—the ones you talk about—they could still be out there too.”

Kayla shrugged. Eleanor had mentioned that the homes around here had already been broken into, and Kayla didn’t have the heart to suggest that those families were probably abducted—that they likely never made it up north at all.

Kayla wondered if those vampires would come back around here if they thought it had already been emptied out. She remembered what one of them said in the parking garage—that they wanted to get out of the city before nightfall. They would be allowed to leave since they are the ones probably guarding the borders on the outskirts.

“I don’t think they’re in the city anymore,” Kayla responded casually.

Eleanor scoffed. “Well, you’ve taken on a new attitude.”

“If we’re going to stay here for however long it takes for all this to… get sorted… well, then we need to have everything we need. If you need meds, we should go get them. We should get some extra meds for other emergencies too.”

“You’re right. I’m just worried of what I’ll find.”

Kayla didn’t know what would be worse, if her husband was one of the men in the cages or if they find him dead on the side of the road.

“So, it’s settled then. We’ll leave after breakfast.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Kayla didn’t hear her at first, but Eleanor was in the garden out back watering the lilies when she saw Pumpkin run through an opening in the fence onto the street.

“Oh no!” Eleanor cried out.

Kayla was upstairs rummaging through Eleanor’s junk, looking for a bag to use on their trip to the store when she heard the front door open and close shut.

Where was she going?

She raced downstairs and opened the door, and suddenly a wave of fear washed through her as she stood on the front porch. She watched Eleanor, who was down the street, crossing the road to the house on the other side. Looking up at the house she was going to, Kayla saw the top windows had been left half open. She remembered her brother’s voice telling her to climb out her own window to get onto the roof to get help. “Go Kayla, get the neighbors!”

She ran to catch up to Eleanor, pushing away the memory. The echo of her brother’s voice fading away.

“Eleanor, wait! Where are you going?”

“Oh, Pumpkin has run off. She probably just misses her home, but I can’t leave the poor thing all alone,” Eleanor cried back. Eleanor got to the front door of the house and Kayla saw her shaking her head as she pushed the door open.

Kayla—sprinting now—caught up with her, but she slowed her steps on the driveway as she made her way to the front door. She saw that the lock had been busted open. Kayla entered the house and saw that Eleanor had gone upstairs to fetch Pumpkin, but she decided to walk forward past the staircase. She passed the crushed coffee table and saw faded blood smeared on the wooden floor in the den. Looking at the blood-crusted rug, Kayla felt nausea rise in her throat and her heart begin to race. Flashes of her father’s body seared into her mind, followed by the image—and sound—of her brother gurgling blood beside her. His bruised, battered face haunted her vision. Then came the distant screams of her mother.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing it all away—until only one sound remained: her mother’s voice, steady and insistent.

“North, Kayla. Get up north.”

Still holding her breath, she rushed outside to get some fresh air.

Eleanor came out carrying Pumpkin in a floral pet bed. “The poor darling must have missed her bed.” The orange fur ball purred and slowly blinked at Kayla. “Hopefully she’ll be content to stay with us now until the Johnsons come back.”

Kayla knew they weren’t coming back.

“Oh my, you’re pale as a ghost. Are you okay?”

“Yeah… I’m fine… just wanted to wait out here.”

Eleanor looked at her with concern. “Come now, let’s go back home. We have a journey ahead of us today.”

“Right,” said Kayla, nodding, her stomach suddenly in knots.

“It upsets me too, seeing these homes ransacked like that.” Eleanor shook her head as they headed back. “I don’t understand why thieves must make such a mess when looting. Just take what you need and get out.”

Kayla nodded, not really paying attention.

“You know she was pregnant. Sara Johnson. Quite far along too. I was surprised to see them leave for north.”

“They told you they were heading north?” Kayla asked hopefully, trying to ignore the evidence to the contrary.

“Well, no, but they were a young couple with two little boys. Heading north is something they would do.”

Kayla’s stomach twisted up at the thought of Damien. What kind of world would her brother grow up in now?

“I was friends with the family. They knew I was a nurse,” Eleanor continued. “I understand that emergency services are down, and the hospitals evacuated, but I would have helped them. I’ve been known to have delivered some newborns during my time.” She shook her head. “Ah well, it’s what the young people wanted. North. Everything will be better north.” She let out a small chuckle.

Kayla wasn’t amused but knew she meant well. There was no point in getting into another argument—especially since they had a journey to the store to get to. Suddenly Kayla no longer had her fearless attitude.

“Are you having second thoughts about traveling today, dear?”

“No. I’m still good to go.”

*

“Come on, let’s go,” said Kayla as she looked up at Eleanor, who was still standing at the top of the front porch. Eleanor had a shawl around her shoulders and a tote bag tied around her tank that Kayla helped bring down the steps.

“I’m coming. It’s that way,” she said, nodding in the direction they needed to head towards.

Kayla was starting to feel a bit anxious as she waited for Eleanor to come down the stairs. She didn’t want to be out any longer than necessary, and even though it was still morning, Kayla was already worried they might not make it back before dark. She carried a backpack she’d found and emptied earlier—its muted grey color made her think it might have once belonged to the son.

They started walking, and Kayla offered to wheel Eleanor’s oxygen tank behind her—she didn’t want anything slowing them down. As they passed a park, Eleanor nodded toward it and said that she and Charles used to bring their kids there when they were young. She smiled, but it was tinged with sadness.

Kayla glanced over and saw nothing but decay. The playground was deserted. The equipment, rusted and broken. The slide had a jagged hole in its side, and the swings—coated in rust—swayed gently, though there was no wind. It gave her an uneasy feeling, like the ghost of a child had claimed the park as its eternal home.

She shook the thought from her head.

Then she realized she was walking alone.

Spinning around, she saw Eleanor sitting on a bench by the playground.

What is she doing?

Kayla rushed back toward her.

“I can still hear their laughter in the breeze,” Eleanor said quietly.

Kayla gave a small smile. She guessed that Eleanor needed an excuse to rest. Birds were fluttering and tweeting around them, squirrels were scampering up trees.

“We should have brought some nuts!” Eleanor said.

Kayla gave her a bewildered look. “Ah, maybe next time.” She nervously glanced behind her again.

“I’m glad you suggested this. It’s been a while since I’ve been out,” said Eleanor.

Kayla gave a curt nod, not taking a seat beside her. She was scanning the area around them. “We shouldn’t stay too long,” said Kayla, trying not to sound too impatient.

“You’re right. Let’s get a move on. All these houses—empty. These streets used to be so busy with people coming and going,” said Eleanor as they continued walking. “What times we’re living in now.”

Kayla nodded while taking quick glances behind her and to the side. She didn’t really believe the streets were as completely empty as they would have liked. A stray animal or critter ran out of some bushes they passed. Kayla shrieked at the movement, while Eleanor laughed.

“That store right there,” Eleanor said, pointing, “doesn’t look like much now, but it used to be owned by a fella named Joe. He and Charles never got along—Joe was a cranky old man, always accusing the neighborhood kids, including my son, of shoplifting. But they had the best ice cream selection around.”

To Kayla, the store looked small and lifeless. The front window was boarded up, the door pried open. It had clearly seen better days.

She didn’t feel like sightseeing. She wished they could move faster, but Eleanor was already walking as quickly as her health would allow. And Kayla understood—Eleanor wasn’t just reminiscing. She was looking for her husband. But so far, all she seemed to find were memories of him.

*

“Well, this is it.” They stopped and stared at the huge superstore. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen it without the parking lot being packed with cars circling around for a spot. Quite an odd sight to see it this empty,” Eleanor said.

Kayla thought she heard a hint of breathlessness in her voice. They walked towards the building, and to their surprise the automatic doors still opened. They looked at each other confused as they entered.

It was as deserted inside as it was out on the streets. Kayla wondered how it was possible that they didn’t run into a single person—not just an infected person but an actual person. She looked around as the doors closed.

Could it really be this abandoned? Could everyone truly be gone?

She didn’t see the bloody handprint that was smeared on the glass doors as they closed behind her.

“Come on, the pharmacy is at the back.” Kayla hated the way Eleanor rushed off with no caution.

“We should keep our voice down!” Kayla hissed.

The store was huge. She followed Eleanor but kept glancing down the aisles. There was no guarantee they were alone in there—or that anyone else present meant them no harm.

“Drat! Well, here we are but the security gate is still down over it.” Eleanor shook her head. “That’s quite surprising. I would think someone would have taken that apart by now.”

Kayla walked over to take a closer look. Inside, she saw several boxes on the floor as if someone had been inside recently.

She gently shook the cage. “There!” she said. “That corner of the cage has been loosened for someone to wiggle their way through beneath.”

“Ah, perfect!”

Kayla lifted the corner as high as it would go, giving Eleanor just enough space to crawl under. Eleanor grunted as she struggled to crouch low enough, bracing herself against the wall for support—her age making it difficult to move quickly. Still, they’d agreed it was best for her to go in. She had the list of medications, and the names were too complicated for Kayla to remember. Besides, Kayla preferred to stay outside and keep watch for any unexpected surprises.

Eleanor groaned as she got back up on her feet. Fixing her glasses and holding her tote bag, she went about searching the shelves.

Kayla watched her for a while as she muttered the names of medications out loud. Antihistamines, ibuprofen, acetaminophen—all extra medications that could come in handy later, although Kayla hoped Eleanor would find the ones she really needed. The ones that kept her alive.

She wandered off and began walking down the aisles. To her surprise, the shelves weren’t empty—the place hadn’t been completely ransacked. Hygiene products still lined the shelves, untouched. Kayla filled her backpack with a few bottles of shampoo and conditioner, some bars of soap, several tubes of toothpaste, and a handful of toothbrushes. She added a couple of deodorant sticks and moisturizing creams before pausing in the middle of the aisle.

The shelves being so full unsettled her.

In times like these, didn’t people grab everything in a panic? Rushing to hoard whatever they could, even the things that had no real use in an emergency? She remembered the convenience store—how it had been nearly stripped bare. The other shops along the way had been smashed and looted.

But this store? It was almost untouched.

All of a sudden, Kayla heard Eleanor cry out.

She rushed back, not having meant to have wandered away so far from her. “Eleanor are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m stuck, dear, please help.”

Kayla breathed a sigh of relief. Eleanor had tried to squeeze under the gate alone, but couldn’t move and hold it up at the same time.

“Sorry, Eleanor.” Kayla lifted the gate off of her so that she could crawl out.

“No worries, dear.” She grabbed her tote bag, which sounded full. “I was able to find just about all the items. The ones that really matter. I’m quite pleased.”

But the look on Eleanor’s face didn’t look pleased. In fact, she seemed disheartened as she looked around. “Have… have you found anything?”

Kayla knew what she meant. She knew she had hoped that they would have found her husband by now. “No, I haven’t, but we can keep looking. Perhaps we can start on one side and work our way down the other?”

Eleanor nodded. “Yes, that’s a good idea. I’ll search this end, you go to that end, and we’ll meet up in the middle.”

“Wait!” A sense of panic washed over Kayla as Eleanor started walking away with her tank and tote bag. “Shouldn’t we stay together? You know—just in case?”

Eleanor smiled. “Dear, look at the size of this place. You said yourself you wanted to get back home before dark. Don’t worry, with how quiet it is in here, we’ll hear the other holler if one of us finds anything.” She continued to walk away.

Kayla stood a moment and then rolled her eyes. That woman’s continued lack of fear still frustrated her, but she started walking towards the other side of the store. She didn’t know exactly what she was looking for, but she knew Eleanor needed to give this place a thorough search before they headed back. She needed to know that they tried before giving up. However, it was looking more and more likely that her husband was taken—and was probably put in the same cages as she was.

Kayla would never say it to Eleanor—not just because it meant she knew where he’d been all along, but because it meant she’d left him there when the war began. It wasn’t something she was ready to confess.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The eerie echoes of her footsteps followed her as she moved deeper into the store, peering down every aisle in search of any sign of Eleanor’s husband. Then, suddenly, the echoes stopped.

She looked down—and froze. Spatters of blood dotted the linoleum floor. Dread tightened in her chest as she stared at the aisle ahead, clinging to the faint hope that it was just dried crimson paint. But as she followed the trail, the spots became smears—long, erratic streaks that told a different story.

Blood or paint, something terrible had happened here.

Her heart pounded in her ears. She slipped slightly on the slick floor and had to catch herself. She wanted to call out for Eleanor—but fear kept her quiet. She didn’t know who else might be listening.

Still, she followed the trail. It led to a severed limb, lying on the floor. She lifted her gaze and saw the body it belonged to—a mangled corpse sprawled in a pool of blood, surrounded by several others. One of them wore a store uniform. Their eyes were open, wide and unseeing.

Kayla froze.

She’d seen this before.

Her body moved before her mind could catch up—she turned and sprinted back the way she came, calling Eleanor’s name, scanning every aisle in a panic.

“Charles?” Eleanor called out faintly in the distance. “Charles, is that you?”

Kayla spun around. “No,” she whispered.

She sprinted towards Eleanor, now screaming out her name. “Eleanor, we have to get out of here! Now!”

“Kayla, I think I found him! Some maniac locked these people inside. I think it’s Charles! Oh, who would do such a thing!”

Kayla sprinted faster, struggling to make sense of what Eleanor was saying—but the awful feeling in her gut, after what she’d just seen, told her she had to stop her.

“Eleanor, no—wait! Don’t do anything!”

When Kayla finally spotted her in the distance, she saw Eleanor wheeling full carts away from a supply storage door. The door itself was shaking violently from the inside. Eleanor moved the last cart—stacked high with boxed plasma TVs—out of the way, then reached for the handle.

“Hang on, Charles, I’m coming!” said Eleanor, as she knocked away a security bar that was placed by the door. “Sick lunatics!” she muttered as she reached for the handle.

“No, Eleanor!” But it was too late.

The door was open and Eleanor, dropping her wheeled tank to the ground, put a shaky hand to her mouth. She started to back up slowly as tears silently ran down her face. Kayla looked on. She couldn’t see what Eleanor was seeing. It wasn’t until one of them, a grey-haired figure that looked partly decomposed, staggered out on what looked like a broken leg. It had a huge chunk from its shoulder bitten off. It limped, hunched over and growling.

“Charles?” Eleanor whimpered.

As it moved towards her that’s when Kayla saw it—on the hip of Eleanor’s husband.

A holstered gun.

Another one emerged behind Charles—a creature with dirty blond hair and a mangled arm hanging limply at its side. It leaned slightly, favoring the side weighed down by the damaged limb. For a moment, it stood still, watching.

Kayla lost sight of Eleanor, who had backed behind an aisle, but the grey-haired one was now slowly making its way toward her. Kayla didn’t know what these monsters were—but one thing was certain.

They had to get out of there.

Kayla screamed, “Eleanor, we need to run!”

She regretted it instantly. The dirty blonde creature’s head snapped toward her, its black eyes gleaming with fury. It growled—a deep, guttural sound—and lunged. Despite the distance, it reached her in seconds.

Kayla dove to the side, barely dodging it. She abandoned her backpack and took off down an aisle, the creature charging after her. She grabbed whatever she could from the shelves and flung items behind her, cluttering the floor to slow it down.

Every time it lunged, she sidestepped and darted in another direction, causing it to crash into walls or shelving units.

Somewhere behind her, she heard Eleanor scream.

Still running, Kayla sprinted toward the aisle with the paint cans. Her feet slipped on a slick of spilled paint, but she caught herself—an idea forming in her mind. Skirting past the corpses on the floor, she turned a sharp corner and crouched behind a shelf stacked with paint cans, peering out through the slats.

The creature stumbled into the bodies as though it hadn’t noticed them until they blocked its path. It growled in frustration, then stopped—hovering over the corpses.

Kayla held her breath.

It looked down at the bodies as if studying them… then moved on, uninterested.

Was it because they were already dead? she wondered.

The creature kept moving in her direction—more slowly now, unsure of where she’d gone.

As quietly as she could, Kayla grabbed one of the dropped, half-open paint buckets and poured the remaining contents onto the floor, spreading a slick trail across the aisle. She crouched behind the shelf, heart pounding, waiting to time it just right.

She took a breath.

Then she shouted.

The creature’s head snapped toward her with terrifying speed.

Kayla braced herself and dove out of the way just as it lunged. She looked back—just in time to see the creature lose its footing and crash to the ground, skidding through the paint. It let out a furious growl.

Without wasting a second, Kayla ran to the end of the shelf and shoved it with all her strength. The paint cans toppled first, slamming down onto the creature, and then the shelf itself came down with a deafening crash—collapsing across the aisle and ricocheting into the shelves beside it.

The sound echoed through the store like thunder.

As the noise faded, Kayla heard Eleanor’s distant cries. She turned and sprinted toward them.

But then—another sound. A faint clatter. The shifting of metal.

She stopped and turned around. The fallen shelves were moving. Shaking. Rising.

The creature underneath was trying to claw its way out.

“Oh my God,” Kayla whispered before running off to find Eleanor.

“Kayla!”

“Eleanor, where are you?” Kayla was frantic, searching every aisle for her, trying to follow the sounds. Finally, she found Eleanor trying to hold off the savage creature using the empty cart that used to have her breathing tank in it. She was using it to keep her distance, but Charles kept clawing at her, trying to get to her.

“Charles, it’s me! It’s your Eleanor!” she pleaded to the creature.

Kayla circled behind the creature and shouted, “Get to the pharmacy!”

Eleanor, tears streaking her face, gave a shaky nod. The sound of Kayla’s voice drew the creature’s attention, and it turned, moving toward her. It wasn’t as fast as the others, but Kayla still kept her distance, carefully leading it away from the pharmacy to give Eleanor a chance to get there.

Suddenly, the creature lunged. Its mangled hand—several fingers dangling uselessly—scraped across Kayla’s arm, leaving a shallow but painful scratch.

Gritting her teeth, Kayla grabbed a discarded shopping cart nearby and shoved it forward with all her strength, slamming it into the creature—Charles—and pinning him against the wall.

Up close, she could see his rotting face: skin stretched tight, bulging black eyes, saliva dripping from jagged teeth. A chemical stench rolled off him, sharp and nauseating.

Infected… or dead? she wondered, choking back the bile rising in her throat.

Fighting through the nausea, she shuffled sideways, keeping pressure on the cart, and reached for the holster at his side. It was already unlatched—like Charles had tried to grab whatever was inside but hadn’t made it in time.

The creature thrashed, the cart rattling violently as he tried to push it off. Kayla dug in her heels, using all her weight to hold it steady.

“It’s right there,” she said, reaching for it. She shook her head and thought, ‘Eff it.

Letting go of the cart, she dove for the gun just as the cart flew far away behind her.

She rolled away on the ground as the creature lunged for her. She shot a few rounds to buy herself some time to make her way to the pharmacy.

But the bullets did nothing.

It was as if the creature didn’t feel them.

She mentally scolded herself. Bullets don’t work on these monsters, Kayla!

She tossed the gun away and made a run for the aisles, looking back and seeing that the creature, although in pursuit, was still hindered by its broken leg.

“You break their legs they can’t speed run.” That was something Kayla knew she needed to remember.

Bullets are useless, break their legs.

“Kayla!”

She looked back and saw the dirty blonde creature making its way over to Eleanor, covered in paint.

No! Eleanor should be at the pharmacy by now!

Kayla made a break for the pharmacy gates, screaming—hoping to draw the attention of both creatures and Eleanor. She spotted a narrow opening in the corner she might be able to slide under, but before she could reach it, the blonde-haired creature grabbed her from behind.

She twisted, pushing against its face with both hands, desperately trying to keep its salivating mouth and rotting teeth away from her skin. With a surge of panic-fueled strength, she shoved it off, stumbling and crashing to the ground.

The Charles creature wasn’t far behind.

She scrambled backward, her hands scraping across the floor, trying to put distance between herself and the monsters. Her back hit something—Eleanor’s breathing tank, which had rolled loose.

Kayla shoved it at them, then tossed anything else within reach to slow them down. It barely worked.

She couldn’t fight them off. Not both of them. She knew that.

Then, from behind them, she saw Eleanor step out from the aisle—her eyes locked on Kayla.

“Get to the pharmacy. Go!” screamed Kayla as they cornered her.

Then Kayla saw Eleanor with the gun.

Damn this woman, she thought.

“No, Eleanor, bullets don’t work on—” She stopped mid-sentence. Eleanor wasn’t aiming at the monsters. She was aiming at the oxygen tank.

“Get outta there!” Eleanor screamed.

Kayla rolled away just in time. A deafening POP erupted behind her, followed by a wave of searing heat. The explosion hit, and a split second later came the agonized cries of the creatures.

The oxygen tank had ignited, sending a massive burst of flame down the aisle. Kayla turned to look—both creatures were engulfed, their bodies consumed by fire. And yet, horrifyingly, they kept moving.

They stumbled forward, as if unaware their flesh was burning away, as if pain meant nothing to them.

Even as their limbs blackened and their skin peeled off in sheets, they reached for her.

But then—finally—they fell. Collapsing mid-step, still clawing at the air, until there was nothing left but ash.

Kayla stood frozen, almost mesmerized.

She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

The blonde one was still partially intact, its bottom half reduced to a charred mess. Yet it dragged itself forward, one ruined arm reaching toward her.

She stared into its eyes—deep black pits, hollow and endless—searching for something. A flicker of light. A spark of humanity.

But there was nothing.

Kayla was jolted back to reality by more sounds of gunshots. Looking up, she saw that Eleanor was frantically shooting at the back of her squirming husband as he was burning. As if it was some kind of mercy kill.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she muttered repeatedly as she emptied the barrel. It was then that Kayla saw the fire was spreading and the whole place was going up in flames. The smell of smoke and burnt flesh filled the air.

Screw the pharmacy—they had to get the hell out of there. She got up and grabbed hold of Eleanor, who was shaking in tears. Eleanor then spun around at her, gripping her by the arms.

“You said they weren’t mindless beasts!” she wailed at her. “You said… You said they were still themselves!” Eleanor was hysterical while the fire grew around them.

Kayla fought the urge to cry with her, pushing back her own rising hysteria.

“We have to go. That way is the exit. Eleanor, we have to get out of—”

She broke off as a coughing fit overtook her, the smoke now thickening and spreading fast.

Eleanor stood frozen, blinking through tears and haze, then nodded, coughing as well. She finally let go and moved in the direction Kayla had pointed.

Relief flooded Kayla, and she turned to follow—until she remembered why they had come here in the first place.

Eleanor’s tote bag. Where was it?

She looked back—and through the thick smoke, she saw it. The tote bag, lying on the other side of the flames.

“Keep going!” she shouted to Eleanor, who didn’t seem to hear her over her sobs. Still, Eleanor kept moving toward the exit, unaware that Kayla was no longer behind her.

Without hesitation, Kayla turned and sprinted toward a narrow gap in the wall of fire—just wide enough where the flames hadn’t fully connected. The heat seared her skin as she passed through, and a hoarse cough tore from her throat. She grabbed the tote bag and turned back, but the opening was now closed off, the fire sealing it shut.

Gritting her teeth, she pushed forward anyway, the heat blistering around her, her lungs aching with every breath.

She dodged a falling ceiling beam that crashed down beside her as the flames climbed higher, then burst through what remained of the store’s front, stumbling into the open air.

Outside, she found Eleanor collapsed on the pavement.

*

“Eleanor, Eleanor, wake up!” Kayla shook her gently, checking to see if she was still breathing.

Eleanor opened her eyes and started coughing. Kayla helped her to her feet. She was wheezing and struggling to keep herself upright. Kayla started rummaging through Eleanor’s tote bag.

“Is there anything in here that’ll help you!?” she asked frantically.

Gasping for breath, Eleanor shook her head. “I need oxygen,” she wheezed out.

Kayla was trying not to panic. “Okay, okay come on.”

She put one of Eleanor’s arms around her shoulder and propped her up. “We’re going to make it back.”

She tried her best to keep a healthy pace and despite her hoarse breathing, Eleanor kept moving. Kayla looked all around, terrified of seeing anyone else on the street. For now, it was just the two of them, and she wanted it to stay that way.

If I see anyone, I’m quickening our pace, she thought to herself. We can do this. We can make it back.

“I have to stop. I have to rest,” pleaded Eleanor, still crying—still grieving.

Kayla spotted someone in the distance. Her stomach tightened. She hoped they hadn’t drawn too much attention—and that the stranger wouldn’t come any closer.

“No, Eleanor, please,” she whispered urgently. “We have to keep moving.”

Kayla kept glancing over her shoulder, eyes locked on the distant figure. She couldn’t tell if they’d been seen. Maybe they haven’t noticed us, she thought. God, I hope not.

Eleanor was a blubbering mess, gasping for breath between sobs. Her loud cries echoed through the empty streets, making Kayla increasingly anxious.

“Please, Eleanor,” she said, pulling her to her feet. “We have to keep moving. We’re almost there. Please!”

It was all Kayla could say to keep her going—to give her something to hold on to. But the truth was, they weren’t even close to the park yet. Home was still far away.

Eleanor nodded weakly and started moving again, leaning heavily on Kayla.

“Just keep moving we’re almost there.”

Kayla barely heard her say, “Alright.”

As worrisome as Eleanor’s ragged breathing had been, the sudden quiet was even more alarming. Kayla glanced over and thought she saw a bluish tint creeping into Eleanor’s lips.

They passed the playground—the swings still swaying gently in the breeze—and by then, Kayla was carrying more of Eleanor’s weight than simply supporting her.

When they finally reached the house, Kayla threw open the front door and dragged Eleanor inside. Eleanor’s legs gave out completely—she could no longer stand.

“Where?”

Barely above a whisper, Kayla heard Eleanor say, “My room.”

Kayla ran up the stairs and burst inside, startling both cats from their nap.

In the corner of the room, near the closet, Kayla spotted a green and silver tank with a tube and mask attached. She rushed to it, lifting it carefully. As much as she wanted to move faster, she was too afraid to drop it—she knew exactly what a pressurized tank like this could do.

At the bottom of the stairs, she set it upright, her hands trembling. But by then, Eleanor was slumped against the wall, her eyes beginning to roll back, slipping into unconsciousness.

“What do I do? How do I use this?” Kayla’s voice trembled as she stared at the tank.

The mask was already attached, the clear tubing coiled tightly around it. With shaky hands, she quickly untangled the tubing and slipped the mask over Eleanor’s face. Then she turned to the valve on top, twisting the nozzle until a familiar hiss filled the air.

Kayla slid down the wall opposite Eleanor, breathing hard, unsure of what else to do but wait.

Slowly, Eleanor’s eyes began to focus.

They locked eyes—and Kayla finally exhaled, the tension leaving her in one long breath. She reached over and shut the front door.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Kayla helped Eleanor onto the couch in the living room, settling her across from the fireplace. Mr. Whiskers leapt up onto Eleanor’s lap and curled into a tight ball, purring softly.

“Don’t put the O₂ tank so close to the fireplace, dear,” Eleanor murmured, her voice still weak but steady.

Kayla was about to protest—the fire wasn’t even lit—but the memory of the two creatures burning alive in the store stopped her. Better to be safe than sorry. She moved the tank to the side of the couch, farther from the hearth, then sank into the seat beside Eleanor.

As she sat there, a thought crept in, unshakable: Would she ever be able to forget the stench of burning flesh?

“So, you were right. I’m sorry I doubted you,” Eleanor finally said, her voice sounding much better. “I feel terrible.”

“No, it’s fine,” said Kayla quickly. And it was fine, because whatever it was that they fought off in the store, it wasn’t a creature she’d seen before.

“You said they were still… human-like?”

Kayla was too exhausted and confused to fight. “Yeah, I guess I was mistaken.”

She slumped back onto the couch. What the hell were those things? Why were they different than the ones in the warehouse?

She closed her eyes.

Why is this happening?

Eleanor looked at her curiously before speaking again. “Well, I think what we experienced is all the more reason to stay here.”

“What!” Kayla jolted upright. “No way—if anything, that shows just how much we have to get up north. They’re in the city, Eleanor. We need to find a way out!”

“Alright, alright.” Eleanor raised her hands. “I’m just scared.”

“I’m sorry,” Kayla said.

This woman hadn’t just lost her husband—she’d seen him turned into something monstrous, then watched him burn. Alive? Kayla wasn’t even sure. Parts of him had already been decomposing. His teeth were black and rotted, his eyes sunken and lifeless.

She let out a quiet sigh. Whatever they were, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that Kayla needed to stop being so short with Eleanor.

“I’m scared too,” she said softly. “But that’s why we have to get up north. It’s safe there. Your son is there… and so are my mother and brother.”

She spoke with more confidence than she felt.

“We can do this.”

Eleanor looked at her and smiled, despite the tears streaming down her face. “You’re right.” Silence followed before one of them spoke again.

“It’s a good thing you had more tanks,” said Kayla.

“Yeah, Charles came home with a bunch of them one day. I never asked how he got them or where he found them.” She looked down at her ring and her lip started to quiver. “You know it’s been a long day, I think I’ll turn in early.”

Kayla nodded. “Sure.”

Kayla carried the oxygen tank to Eleanor’s room and set it down gently. As she turned to leave, Pumpkin darted past her and rushed inside. Kayla paused, then quietly closed the bedroom door behind them. She could hear Eleanor crying through the door—but was relieved she wasn’t alone.

Downstairs, though the house wasn’t cold, Kayla lit a fire anyway. She needed to feel the warmth. She needed to see something alive—something moving. As the flames danced, images of the two monsters engulfed in fire flashed in her mind.

But she didn’t flinch.

They could be beaten.

She and Eleanor were still here. Still breathing. Still warm.

All she had to do now was get them out of the city. And no matter what, she wasn’t going to leave Eleanor behind.

They would find a way out—together.

*

As Kayla sat on the rug in front of the fireplace, watching the flames flicker and twist around the logs, memories of her family slipped through. She heard their laughter—faint and distant—echoing from the warmth of her childhood home. The good moments, before everything went to hell.

Then came the night that changed everything.

Kayla shut her eyes tight and let the memories come. This time, she didn’t push them back.

She heard her mother and brothers screaming. Her father…

She let the nightmare play out. It haunted her constantly anyway—she may as well face it. It seemed like the memories wanted her to break. So she did.

By the warmth of the fire in Eleanor’s living room, Kayla finally broke down. She cried for everything she had lost, for the family she couldn’t save, for the life that had been ripped away from her.

She sank lower to the floor, shaking with the force of it, her breath hitching in gasps. She was over it—all of it. This world. This nightmare she’d been thrown into. She had been left to navigate it alone, without warning, without preparation. And none of it was fair.

The pain, the terror, the endless obstacles—none of it was what regular people were supposed to endure. This wasn’t supposed to be her life.

It shouldn’t be anybody’s life.

She cried for her father—the man who had tried so hard to see it coming. Who had wanted to plan for the outbreak, to prepare for the worst with whatever knowledge and instinct he had.

She pictured him—cold and lifeless on the kitchen floor—and the tears came harder.

Will he always be there? Will there ever be a day she can go back and give him the burial he deserves?

He had done everything he could to outthink the evils of this world, to stay one step ahead of the chaos closing in. He tried to predict the impossible.

And he had been so close.

So damn close.

And then there was Marcus. Her brave, reckless, courageous big brother.

He too was just lying there—in their childhood home—cold and still.

She remembered him swinging the baseball bat, standing his ground against the monster that tore their family apart. He didn’t know he didn’t stand a chance. Didn’t know he had already lost. That they all had already lost.

Kayla broke down completely, the sobs wracking her body until she shook uncontrollably. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

It didn’t matter if the infected disappeared overnight or if, by some miracle, a cure was found.

Her father was gone. Marcus was gone.

She would never see them again.

Never hear their voices.

Never hear them laugh.

Her family was broken.

Her world had already ended.

The fire crackled, flames dancing in front of her, and her thoughts slowly turned toward her mother. Toward Damien.

They were still out there.

The shaking began to subside. Her breaths came steadier.

They’re not gone. Not yet.

Somewhere, they were still waiting. And she had to find a way back to them. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and glanced over at Mr. Whiskers, still curled up beside her, purring softly.

Her mother’s voice echoed in her memory—gentle, loving, trying to shield her children from a world full of pain. But her mother couldn’t protect her anymore.

Now, it was Kayla’s turn to fight. She took a deep breath and stood, her legs still unsteady but her resolve clear. She walked into the hallway and looked toward the front door.

First things first.

She needed a car.

*

She now knew a lot of people didn’t make it up north—just like her family. Kayla remembered all the broken-into houses she saw. That means there are still cars parked somewhere.

She’d passed homes with shattered windows and kicked-in doors but no vehicles out front. They’re probably in the garage, she figured.

What she needed was a car already out on the driveway—something she could access quickly, something she could drive, and one that had space for supplies, luggage, and Eleanor’s oxygen tanks.

Then she saw it.

A Honda parked in the driveway. Clean and glistening from the rainstorm.

Kayla approached cautiously, keeping her distance this time. The car looked good—intact, with clear windows and a spacious trunk. She reached out and gently touched the door handle. Locked. Of course.

Even if it hadn’t been, she would still need the keys.

She sighed and turned toward the paved path leading to the front door.

Which meant she had to go inside.

For the most part, the house looked calm and safe.

The only evidence of what went on here is the door being slightly left open.

The keys must be inside, Kayla thought.

She slowly pushed the front door, wincing as it creaked open. As expected, the lock was broken. She glanced around before stepping in. Taking a steadying breath, she reminded herself how her parents—and her friends’ parents—usually kept their keys near the front door. On a hook. In a bowl. Somewhere easy.

Despite the sunlight streaming through the windows, the house felt unnervingly cold and quiet. The stillness was eerie, the kind that settled deep in her bones.

Just find the keys and get out, she told herself. They should be near the front.

A cracked mirror hung above a small foyer cabinet. The runner carpet stretched from the door to the back of the hall, frayed and bunched in spots as if someone had tripped—or struggled on it. She didn’t want to linger. It felt like she could almost hear the echoes of screams and chaos that had once filled this home.

On the side wall, she spotted a row of key hooks—but every one was empty. The hooks were crooked, tilted like they’d been torn at during a frantic moment. Kayla crouched down and scanned the floor, thinking the keys might have fallen. Nothing but dust and dirt.

It has to be here somewhere.

She stepped deeper into the house, trying to think. Where else do people leave their keys? As she moved down the hall, a sharp crunch echoed beneath her foot. She looked down—shattered picture frames littered the floor, the photos inside smeared and broken. They must have once hung proudly along the hallway wall.

She tread more carefully, but each step still cracked and crunched. Then came the smell.

Rotting. Rancid.

Kayla’s heart stopped.

Oh God. Not again.

That smell. She knew it. And it terrified her.

Still, she crept forward, each step against every instinct in her body screaming at her to turn around and leave. As she peered around the corner, she saw a dining table still set with plates—now covered in spoiled food and buzzing flies. What looked like pieces of salmon sat rotting on their plates. The tablecloth was stained. It looked like stray animals had gotten in at some point and gnawed on what was left.

Kayla covered her nose, stomach churning. This is the wrong house. She turned to leave, certain she’d wasted her time.

But then, something colorful caught her eye.

Lying on the floor near the cabinet was a small, upside-down clay bowl—crudely made and brightly painted, like something a child might bring home from art class. She picked it up gently, running her fingers over the distorted shape and chipped edge.

Underneath it: keys. A whole set—one of them attached to a key fob.

Her heart soared. Yes!

Trying to ignore the stench and whatever had happened here, she bolted from the house, not even bothering to shut the door behind her. She made a beeline for the Honda, unlocked it, and scrambled into the driver’s seat.

She pressed the start button. The engine came to life—but the gas gauge read only half full.

Guess it’ll have to do.

There was no way she could stomach going into another house.

She threw the car into gear and drove straight back to Eleanor’s.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“You stole a car?” cried Eleanor the following morning when she saw it in her driveway.

“I didn’t steal it. I borrowed it,” Kayla said. “I have the keys and everything.”

Eleanor still didn’t look pleased.

“I had too.”

“I know. I see you’re quite determined to get out of the city.”

Kayla nodded—that is, if they could get out.

“You mentioned your son took back roads, right. Did he say where they were?”

“Ah, yes. He showed it to me on a map on my phone.”

They both paused and looked at each other. Phone services were down. No internet.

“Wait!” said Eleanor. I have an old, folded-up map of the city somewhere. Kayla heard her go upstairs and rifle through the same junk she did when she looked for the backpack. She sighed. She wished she still had that backpack, since she’d need all those supplies and more. Eleanor came back and laid the map out on the kitchen table. Pumpkin jumped up onto it.

“No, get down you silly girl.” Then she let out a sad sigh. “Guess we can’t bring them with us, can we?”

Kayla shook her head. “I don’t think that’d be a good idea.”

Eleanor nodded. “Well, I’ll leave out all the food for them and prop one of the windows open. They were on their own before they came to me. I’m sure they’ll look after one another and be okay.”

Kayla bent down to scratch between Pumpkin’s ears then looked up and saw Mr. Whiskers once again sprawled out on the floor in the hallway. They’d find a way to survive. She knew they would.

“Back roads are usually older and should still show up… Here! It was this route here.”

Kayla studied the paper map, astonished by how detailed it was. Together, they mapped out their route and emptied the pantry, packing what supplies they had left for the trip. It would have to be enough—stopping along the way wouldn’t be safe.

Kayla’s stomach twisted again at the thought of the half-full gas tank. She still hadn’t told Eleanor they wouldn’t be starting out with a full one.

Kayla went upstairs to check on her and found her sitting on her bed, looking at a picture of her and Charles. She smiled when she saw her.

“I’m sorry, it’s just, we should get going,” said Kayla.

Eleanor nodded. “This picture was taken after I got out of the hospital with the twins. When our family was whole.” A tear fell down her cheek. Kayla’s own eyes watered up, but she knew someone had to be strong.

“Why don’t you take that picture with us?” Kayla just now realized she had no pictures of her own. Another sucker punch to the gut that she had to push back.

“You know, when we were at the store,” Eleanor continued, “at first, all I could think was—it was him. It was my Charles.” She paused, her voice tight. “And then it started growling and snarling at me, and the next thing I thought was, don’t let him bite me.”

She looked up at Kayla and let out a strained chuckle. “Isn’t that wild? I just kept thinking, whatever you do, don’t let it bite you.”

She shook her head slowly, her voice trembling. “Oh, it was terrifying.”

“It was,” said Kayla, nodding. “That was smart of you. To know not to let him bite you.”

Eleanor looked up at her. “Yes. Well, we shouldn’t waste any more time. Come on. Let’s go.”

*

Kayla had the paper map on her lap in the passenger seat. “Where are we again?” Kayla said.

“I marked it on the map before we left,” Eleanor said.

“Oh, I see it now.” Kayla placed her finger on the spot so she wouldn’t lose it again.

Looking up ahead she said, “Stop! Stop the car!”

They were at a rural intersection that was covered by tall, thick trees. Beyond the trees it was all farmland, with a few cows and horses still roaming their fields. In the distance, Kayla could see soldiers blocking the road that lead out of the city.

“We can’t just stop and stay in the middle of the road,” Eleanor hissed.

“It’s fine, no one’s around,” said Kayla. She was trying to think. She could see the soldiers wearing black sunglasses, along with a dark military uniform. She knew they were vampires. She just knew it.

Kayla had an idea. “Pull over. I’ll hide in the trunk. Then you talk to them.”

“What? Why do you have to be in the trunk?”

“Because I have a hunch. Just trust me. Say there’s a supermarket up ahead and that you are trying to get there to grab any supplies that are left—and that you’ll be driving back this way after.”

“Alright, but I’m still not sure why we both can’t speak to them together.”

Kayla ignored her, moved to the trunk, and motioned for Eleanor to close it. She tried to stay as silent as she could. Feeling the engine turn on and making the right turn, they drove a ways up before she felt the car braking as they neared the blockade. Then she heard talking.

“Oh, hello, there’s a supermarket up here I’m trying to get to. The ones back there are all dried up and I’m running low on supplies. I should be back this way in a few hours.”

“Is it just you?” a solider with a low gruff voice asked.

“Ah yes. Yes, it’s just me.”

“You’re not trying to head up north?”

“What me? No, no that’s far too much of a hassle. I’m just trying to stock up on some canned goods and kitty treats.”

There was a long pause before the solider said, “Ok, drive on.”

“Thank you!” Eleanor said as she drove forward. She drove awhile before pulling over to let Kayla back into the passenger seat.

“I can’t believe that worked.”

“I bet your son made it too,” said Kayla.

Eleanor looked over at her and smiled. “What if the other city is barricaded too. Are you just going to keep hiding in the trunk?”

Kayla chuckled. “Yep.”

“Eleanor eyed the tank gauge. I’m assuming we’re driving until the car runs out of gas?”

Kayla sighed, “This cars gas tank was only half full when I found it. Perhaps we should try and fill it up at a self-serve? We passed a sign for a service station that’s supposed to be coming up.” She nodded up ahead. “I think that’s the exit for it.”

“People usually hoard gas during these times. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s all dried up.”

“Guess there’s no harm in trying. We should probably avoid going inside, though.”

“Yes, I agree.”

They turned off the highway at the exit and pulled into a gas station. Like most places they’d passed, it was isolated and empty. Surprisingly, there was still some fuel left—but the pump sputtered out before it could fill the tank. When they checked, it had only added about a quarter of a tank—far less than they’d hoped.

“That should be enough for now, but we have a problem,” said Eleanor, looking sheepishly over at Kayla.

“What?”

“It said to go inside to pay,” Eleanor looked horrified.

Kayla rolled her eyes. “No! We’re staying out here.”

“It’d be stealing!”

“Yes, and that’s what we have to do now,” said Kayla. “We don’t know what’s in there. Could be more of those monsters, hiding.”

Eleanor flinched at the memory. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

Kayla’s guilt rose at the thought of referring to her husband as a monster. She didn’t mean for it to come across the way it did. She hoped Eleanor wasn’t too hurt by it.

“You know, I’ve never properly thanked you,” Kayla said, as they got back out on the road, “for letting me in that night. For all you knew I could have been infected.”

Eleanor smiled at her. “Wouldn’t have mattered even if you were. You needed help. That’s all that mattered. And there’s nothing in this world that will ever stop me from giving a helping hand to those who need it.”

Kayla looked at her with admiration. Suddenly, a Porsche zoomed past them at break-neck speed.

“Whoa!” cried Eleanor.

The Porsche was out of sight in seconds.

“I guess when there’s hardly any cars on the road people feel they can be reckless,” said Eleanor. Then they saw the car again.

“Are they slowing down?” asked Eleanor.

Kayla’s heart started beating faster, as the distance between the two cars was narrowing.

Why would they be slowing down?

Soon the Porsche was right in front of them, and Kayla saw their brake lights come on.

“Now, what are they braking for?” asked Eleanor, shaking her head.

They watched as the Porsche crossed into the oncoming lane and slowed until they were driving right beside them. Their tinted windows made it difficult to see if they were trying to communicate.

Kayla watched as the car matched their speed, then drifted closer to the far edge of their lane.

They’re going to crash into us! she thought.

Just as the vehicle veered sharply toward them, she yelled, “Brake!”

Eleanor slammed her foot down, and they jolted to a stop as the Porsche shot past, cutting across to the other side of the road. For a moment, it drifted out of control—but then it recovered and sped off.

“Oh my goodness. What are they trying to do!?” said Eleanor as she started driving forward again.

“They’re trying to run us off the road! Don’t stop for them, Eleanor! Don’t stop!”

“They’re trying to crash into us!”

“No, I think they’re trying to get us to pull over. Keep driving!”

It was no use. They slammed into their car again and as Eleanor tried to do the brake trick again, it didn’t work. The other car expected it and timed their lane charge. Kayla tried to peer through the window to see who was driving, but the windows were too dark to see more than black silhouettes. They were driving side by side now, matching Eleanor’s speed.

“We have to lose them!” Kayla yelled.

The Porsche slowed, then slammed into the back of their car, sending them spinning as Eleanor lost control. They screamed as the vehicle twisted wildly, finally coming to a jarring stop at the side of a dirt road.

Kayla looked past Eleanor, out the window. Two people had stepped out of the Porsche. Her heart began to race.

“Drive, Eleanor. Drive—drive!”

Eleanor fumbled to switch gears, but the car wouldn’t respond.

Suddenly, the couple was at their windows—impossibly fast, though they’d been several feet away just moments ago.

Outside, a redheaded woman’s voice rang out clearly. “I told you I saw a young one inside.”

The man laughed. “Nice catch.”

They smashed the window by Eleanor first. The man reached over, turning the engine off and grabbing the keys out of the ignition. Then he pressed the unlock button and tossed the keys far off into the distance.

Flinching from the smashed glass, Eleanor screamed. Shards of glass had shattered on her. The other woman opened Kayla’s door and smiled crookedly at her.

They were wearing tinted sunglasses, but Kayla could see the bright hazel color of their eyes flashing beneath.

“Well, hello there. Where are you two going in such a rush?” the man joked.

Eleanor was still shaking.

“He’ll like this one,” said the woman, as she pointed to Kayla.

“Yeah, I’m gonna ask for twice the amount. Or see if he has a yacht.”

“She’s not enough for a yacht!”

“You never know! I wonder how long this one will last with him. Hopefully not too long so we can sell him another.”

The woman stood there, eyeing her a moment. “No, this one won’t last a day.” They both laughed.

The woman seized Kayla with an iron grip, yanking her out of the car with brutal force.

“No!” Eleanor cried out as they started to head back to the Porsche.

Kayla tried to resist and struggled, but it was no use. The woman was practically dragging her with one hand. She looked back and saw Eleanor was trying to catch up with them.

“No, take me instead! Leave the poor girl alone,” Eleanor said as she struggled to keep up with them—she wasn’t making much ground. Kayla could tell her breathing was starting to affect her.

“I’ll take care of that one,” the man said lazily, nodding in Eleanor’s direction.

Kayla’s heart dropped. “No, no!” She started wailing and punching at the woman. “Don’t you touch her!” But it was still no use. It was as if the woman couldn’t feel a thing. In a split second, the man slammed his fist into Eleanor’s gut, the blow so powerful it launched her past the wrecked car. She landed hard and lay slumped on the ground, motionless.

He just killed her, Kayla thought.

She started balling her eyes out, calling her name. “Eleanor! No!”

Then she was hit hard at the back of her head and blacked out.

Time passed and there was a blur of voices in the background. “What do you think, James? Young enough for you?”

“Yes, she’ll do quite nicely. Well done you two.”

Kayla woke up hours later in the back seat of a fancy car. The windows were tinted, and it had been customized so that the locks were removed from the back doors.

“Ah, you’re finally awake.”

Kayla’s head was throbbing. She looked out the window and could tell they were going fast on a highway. She glanced up in the rearview mirror to see piercing venomous green eyes staring back at her.

“Did you hear what I said?”

Kayla was frantically trying all the doors, checking for locks that weren’t there. She didn’t care how fast they were going—she was prepared to jump out. Those eyes. His eyes. They weren’t human.

The man stepped hard on the brakes, just enough for Kayla to lurch forward into the seat in front of her.

“You’re being rude. I asked you what your name was.”

Kayla closed her eyes and took a breath before answering. “Kayla.”

“Ah, that’s a pretty name. Nice to meet you, Kayla.” He steadily sped up again, still watching her excitedly in the rearview.

Kayla glanced over and saw the speedometer—he was going 80 miles per hour. Her hands trembled as she quickly fastened her seatbelt. From the front came a low, amused chuckle, but the man said nothing. Whatever she was doing seemed to entertain him.

She turned her eyes to the window, desperate to get her bearings. They passed a white road sign: Southbound 413.

Her heart dropped.

South.

He was taking her south.

Panic rose in her chest. She began to hyperventilate, frantically trying the doors again. She pounded on the windows, hoping—praying—someone might see her.

Their eyes met in the rearview mirror.

She screamed.