Red at Day

A thousand little droplets fall onto the tiled floor and a thousand more little droplets fall on top of those droplets. Hundreds of little droplets fail to reach the floor. No, they hit the top of my head. The warmth that comes from the shower head fills me with comfort. The little pitter patter of water is comparable to a heavy rain. It's amazing how good a daily ritual can make you feel. I pour shampoo onto my hand and run my palm over my white hair. At first the soap feels gooey, but then it almost feels like nothing as it bubbles with the slight touch of my fingers. I like to think that's how clouds feel. I scrape my scalp with my fingernails, making sure to get a deep clean. I'd hate to have greasy hair. Then when I feel like it's clean I run my head back under the water. I try to keep the suds from running on my face. Yeah, burning eyes suck but I always feel like if I close my eyes, a monster will get me in the shower. It's silly, but I still try to keep suds off my face. Then I do the same with conditioner. One of those “rinse, repeat” kind of things.
I turn off the water and reach for the red towel placed outside of the shower. I dry my face first, feeling the warmth gather in front of me as if I were in my warm bed on a cold winter night, and then cover my head with the towel. I dry my hair, then my body.
Groans can be heard from outside the bathroom. I take a peek from behind the curtain with my red eyes but the door is shut. My heart beats a little faster and I hide again in the comfort of the tub.
“Dad?” I ask. The news has been talking of a zombie outbreak for the past week. Dad says not to worry about it but I've been getting really concerned lately. Graphic pictures of living corpses have flooded the internet and reporters have been touching on the subject more frequently. Whenever I bring any concerns to my dad, he talks about the bath salts guy. I remember when Uma found out about him, she called me thinking the zombie apocalypse was upon us. I knew then it wasn't going on, but this time I've just been scared. I wonder if dad is just pulling a prank on me to try and calm me down.
The door creaks open ever so slowly. I hurriedly wrap the towel around my body. I can feel my heart in my throat as the low grunts echo around the room. Do I dare look again?
Without moving the drapery, I take another glance. My brother, Jasper, stands in the middle of the bathroom. His clothes are torn apart and his skin is missing chinks from it. Blood drips from his fingertips and he leaves a red smear behind him with each step he takes. Jasper's once moody blue eyes are now dull as if the life was sucked from him.
Point two-five seconds is the average reaction time for humans. Point two-five seconds is all it took when my brother lunged forward, his shoes squeaking against the floor. Point two-five seconds for me to jump out of the way as his face slammed into the wall behind me and he pulled the curtain down with him. Point two-five seconds for me to jump out of the shower while screaming.
“Jasper...?” I ask, a lump forming in my throat. I hope it's all just some trick. I hope that that's my little brother and not another monster. But my hopes are casually destroyed by the monsters of the world. His lifeless form clumsily pushes itself upward and tears the curtain off of his body. He twists around and glares at me, blood trickling down his face from a new crack in his forehead. I slam the bathroom door shut and run down the hall. To my right is a flight of stairs and my room is directly at the bottom of the stairs. Halfway down the steps, I hear the bathroom door slam open. I hear footsteps pounding on the floor as the thing that was once my brother wheezes while chasing after me.
I slip on the wooden floor in front of my room, but adrenaline has me back on my feet in no time. I open my bedroom door and force it to shut behind me. Jasper jumps the bottom floor and reaches for the handle. I put all of my weight on the door and lock it. Now unable to get in, Jasper resorts to scratching at the entrance. Still unable to take a grasp on things, I lean against the white wooden frame and sink onto the tan carpeted floor. I hug my knees and feel the door vibrate against my back. Silent tears trickle down my cheeks as I wish for this to stop.
I sit in silence for half an hour until I hear my ring tone go off. It's the phone call tone from the game Mystic Messenger. I slowly crawl towards my bed where I left my phone, not wanting to leave the door unattended. I reach up and grab my phone. At the top of the lit screen, the name “Uma” is written. I slide the green phone button at the bottom of the phone to the other side of the screen and hold it to my ear.
“...Hello?” I ask.
“Are you okay?” Uma asks. Uma has been my best friend since middle school. Just hearing her voice puts my troubles at ease. Uma is 5'2” with dark skin and she often wears her beautiful hair up in an afro puff.
“I'm, uh... I'm fine...” I lie, “What about you? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I'm safe for now,” Uma says, “I'm hiding at the library. There aren't many zombies here and they're turning it into a safe shelter. I haven't been hurt but I'm not sure how long I'll be safe here. Do you think you and your family can pick me up? I was separated from mine and they're not answering their phones...”
“...yeah...” I say, wanting to pretend that nothing happened.
“Are you sure you're okay?” Uma asks.
“Yeah...” I say, “But you're family... I'm so sorry... Do you know if they're okay?”
“...I don't...” Uma whispers, “I just have to hope they will be.”
“...I'll be there soon...” I whisper, then hang up. The first thing I do is locate a weapon. There's a conveniently placed baseball bat in my room. It's not leaving my side anytime soon. I then get dressed and empty my school bag. I can't really tell what we'll need. I pack two pairs of clothes, underwear, and my fluorite stone. I can always loot Walmart if I need anything...
I tightly hold my bat in my right hand. My body feels fuzzy and numb. I've always said that I wanted to kill my brother and that I hated him, but that was out of frustration. Most people don't truly mean those words and I have come to regret them as every angry moment I've had toward Jasper plays in my head like a movie. I remember one time I was hanging out with my friends at a fast food joint. Jasper and our dad came in to say hi and get some food. Jasper was wearing this Assassin Creed jacket and felt really cool wearing it. He grabbed a straw and pretended to try and sneak attack my friends, using the straw as a hidden blade in his sleeve. I always got so angry when Jasper pulled these tricks as a way to steal my friends from me. I was always so angry that he was given the world, but still felt as though he could take from me. I spent all my time being so angry at him, but now that he's gone, I just feel so sad. I unlock the door.
Jasper bursts through the entry. It takes him almost no time to spot me and in an instant, he sprints after me. I raise my bat and with a loud crack, Jasper falls onto the floor. His blue eyes look up at me in anger. They almost remind me of a panther, ready to pounce.
“I'm sorry,” I whisper, my bottom lip quivering. I raise the bat in the air and smash Jasper's head with it until it resembles hamburger meat at the deli. I slide my backpack over my shoulders and leave my room, unable to spend another second staring at my baby brother's body.
From my room, I walk down the hallway and into the living room. Blood is smeared across the walls. The air smells thick of iron. I cover my mouth to keep from being sick. I look at the white leather couch and find my dad laying on it. His eyes are still open and his throat is ripped out. I can't hold it and empty the contents of my stomach onto the floor. My chest feels so tight it feels like it's going to implode. I raise my bat and close my eyes. My wailing drowns out the sounds of the impact of the bat hitting my dad's head. I won't let him turn into one of those things. I won't let him do this to another family.
When the deed is done, I can't bring myself to look at him. I head to the kitchen, hugging myself and trying to even my breathing.
Hiding under the counter is mom. She's covered in bite marks and her breathing is shallow. Her once loving eyes have a certain glazed over look.
“No... No...” I whisper, my eyes clench together as tears trickle down my face.
“Annabelle...” Mom wheezes, struggling focus.
“...Mom?” I ask.
“Annab-,” Mom's cut off with a hearty cough. Fresh blood is splattered from her mouth to the inside of her elbow.
“What do you need?” I ask, kneeling down to her. Her trembling hands slowly move to the back of her neck. It takes a few minutes, but when she removes her hands, she holds the two ends to the chain she wears. A golden cross dangles from the bottom of the necklace.
“This has been in our family... For generations,” Mom says with a raspy voice, “I want you... To take it with you.”
“W-why can't you w-wear it?” I stutter. Every inch of my body is shaking.
“I won't... be making it out of this,” She croaks, “I need you... To kill me... So I don't become a monster... That is why... You wear this necklace... Wear it to remember us... Wear it and survive.”
“No...” I say, “I can't do this without you...”
“You're so much stronger... than you were when you were... a child,” She smiles, putting the necklace onto me, “I believe... you can do anything.”
“I can't...” I sob, feeling the warmth of the cross hit my chest.
“Your father... has been preparing... for this since he saw the news,” She says, “We were packing when Jasper came home... Everything you need... Is in the Jeep.”
“I can't leave you,” I sob.
“You look so beautiful... I'm so proud of you,” Mom says, “Remember... I love you...” Her eyes close and her head rolls over to lean on her shoulder. Her breathing stops and for a moment... she looks so peaceful. I do what she asks. Her final wish. I just hope it's painless. I hope she's happy... wherever she is...
“I love you too,” I say, then pick up the Jeep key's and leave the house.
Outside seems way too normal for everything that just happened. The grass is still green, the sky is still blue, and the breeze somehow feels amazing. It's calm outside. I wonder if my neighbors are still inside. I must look like a crazy person with all the tears and blood.
I walk down the driveway towards the black jeep. The keys rest on the hood of the car. I take them and unlock the driver's side. Before entering, I check under the car and in the back seat. A precautionary I did before the zombie outbreak. You can never be too careful of lurkers. I peer into the trunk to see what dad packed. Holy shit! Guns, knives, ammo, and tons of food cans. I remember sunday night bonding where dad and I would watch The Walking Dead and we would talk about our plans. He already had a bunch of food in the basement in case this happened and he was a bit of a gun fanatic. I always thought we'd hide out on the second floor and knock out the stairs so the zombies can't get us. Then when things calm down, we go to our relative's cow farm in the south... I wish we were able to stick to that plan...
I slide into the driver's seat and buckle up. I say, “I'm an emotionally compromised teenage girl,” and put the car in reverse. I back out of the driveway and put it in drive.
The streets aren't empty. People run in a panic, zombies chase after their living counterparts. It's hard to tell who is who. The zombies aren't rotting and the people are covered in blood. I swerve around any moving being. Joe always told me not to run over a zombie because you risk flipping the car. I just don't want to hurt any more people...
The parking lot behind the library is pretty quiet. It is strange that a lot of the parking spaces are taken, though. I find a spot in the back and park. I unbuckle the seatbelt and turn around. I lean into the back of the jeep and pick up the first gun I find. It's a pistol. On the floor are live rounds. I fill the cartridge with ammo, then make sure the safety is on before putting the gun in the back of my pants.
I walk up the the library door. Through the window, I see lots of people building up a defense for the building. Windows are being boarded up, doors are being blocked with bookcases. I wonder if they'll make it.
“What do you want?” The door opens. A bald man stares me down.
“I'm here to pick up my friend,” I answer, “Her name is Uma.”
“It's too dangerous out there. You're better off staying here,” He says.
“We have a safe place of our own,” I explain, “Please, just let me get her and we won't bother you again.”
“My conscious will pick at me if I let you go,” He says, “Where are your parents?”
“...I just need to get my friend,” I say, looking away. He reads the situation and nods.
“I better see you when this is over,” He says.
“You'll see more than just me,” I reply, “My friends are survivors.” He smiles and tells me to wait outside. I watch the streets as I wait for Uma to come out. I feel a mixture of adrenaline and straight up sadness. I hope Uma's family is okay...
“Thanks for picking me up,” Uma says as she exits the building.
“Any time,” I say.
“What's wrong?” Uma asks.
“Nothing,” I say, then give a fake laugh.
“Are you-” Uma is cut off.
“Ew, you mean the zombies didn't get you?” It's Doreen. A privileged girl with way too much time on her hands. I think she dated her cousin at one point? Behind her are her friends.
“Not even a zombie would want to eat them,” one of her cronies laugh. My chest begins to feel tight. Even if the world is ending, how is it that people can still get the best of me? I can't muster up the ability to speak.
“Is that why your scrawny asses are still alive?” Uma asks.
“Excuse me?” Doreen asks.
“Oh, I'm sorry,” Uma says, “Did you expect me to believe the toilet paper you stuff your bra and panties with was real?”
“Listen, bitch,” One of the cronies start. Doreen holds up a hand and smiles.
“Jealous?” Doreen asks.
“Of what?” Uma asks. She grabs my hand and pulls me to my jeep.
“...Thank you...” I say.
“You have to stand up for yourself soon,” Uma says, “Bad things are coming and you need to be able to protect you and your friends. Are you up to the challenge?” I nod and Uma smiles. We check the car before going inside it. We want to make sure nothing is in it that shouldn't be.
“...Holy shit...” Uma says, looking at all the guns, “You realize how terrifying that is, right?”
“I'm aware,” I say, “But I'm kinda glad my dad gave this to us. He wanted us to be safe.”
“Where is your dad?” Uma asks, looking around.
“...I'm the only one who made it...” I say, looking at the ground. Uma's eyes sadden.
“I'm so sorry,” she says.
“It doesn't feel okay, but I know it will in the future,” I say, “Thats how all pain goes. I just have to believe that.” Uma smiles and wraps me in her arms. I hug her back and thank her. I can't cry yet though. We have to go.
The streets grow louder with growling and screams. Uma and I rush into the jeep and I start the engine after buckling up.
“If you want a gun, it's yours,” I say, “But make sure you put your seatbelt on.” Uma nods and grabs the first gun she finds. A revolver. She fills it with ammo and straps herself into her seat. Safety first. I put the car in drive and go. The tires make a high pitch noise against the pavement and leave black marks from where they were.
“Where to captain,” I ask.
“The Spot,” Uma says, watching the window. Her hands are shaking.
“Who will be there?” I ask. The Spot is an old cabin in the woods that we found. We cleaned it up and made it our own. My friend group goes there to hang out and take a break from society.
“I've been calling everyone I could. Anyone who picked up, I told them to meet us there,” Uma says. She looks upset.
“Anyone who didn't, I'm sure they'll be okay,” I say with a forced smile. Uma smiles back and says, “Clara is getting Machi and Kali.” Clara a short latina with a care-free personality. She's honestly been really into the whole zombie apocalypse thing so I can only imagine how she's handling the situation. She has short, messy brown hair and wears these bright red glasses. She's honestly so cute. Too bad she's engaged to Machi. Machi is asian. She has long black hair, but pulls her bangs into a ponytail at the back of her head so they don't fall on her eyes. She's chubby and full of love. Clara and Machi were going to school together. Clara was going to become a doctor, and Machi was going for building design. Kali is a sweet heart. She's our African American friend and she does nothing but cares for her friends. Every day she uses her experiences to better herself and the people around her. That's all she wants out of life is to help others. She's 5'5” and has an undercut hairstyle. The natural curls on the top of her head are kept short and are absolutely gorgeous.
“Paris is bringing her prick,” Uma sighs.
“Bruce is the name of a shark,” I laugh, “He has the personality of one too. I wonder how she manages to date him.” Paris is fat and has long dirty blonde hair that she keeps in a ponytail. She and Uma use to be best friends until Bruce entered the picture. Bruce is a fat latino with spiked up hair. Bruce has been all over Uma and went as far as to date Paris to get closer with Uma. Now Paris and Uma's relationship is strained because of him. We both hope that one day, everything settles itself and we can all go on being best friends again.
“Rosa and Adriel are coming together,” Uma continues. Rosa is Latina. She has a pixie cut and a passion for photography. She's dating Adriel. He's Native American and a strong joker. He has long hair and wears glasses.
“Is Adrian bringing Cain?” I ask. They're BFFs. Cain has longish wavy blond hair. He tends to think he can charm himself out of any situation. That's really not the case when he made Uma cry. I defended her and told him off. How fucking dare he.
“Of course he is,” Uma huffs, “But Aaron isn't coming.”
“He's not?” I ask.
“No, Zaida is coming,” Uma says.
“Is she bringing Dakota?” I ask.
“Most likely,” Uma says. Zaida is muslim and dating Dakota. Aaron and Zaida dated for a bit, but then she realized she's a lesbian and broke it off with him. He's still really butt hurt about it. It's honestly her win if he's going to treat her how he is because she's being true to herself and loving who she wants to love. You don't treat people like shit for not being able to reciprocate your feelings.
“And I called Issa,” Uma says.
“Is he bringing Rupert?” I ask.
“More like Rupert is inviting himself to come,” Uma says. Oh boy. Issa has dark skin and keeps his dreadlocks tied up in a ponytail. He wears glasses and is honestly one of the best hackers I've seen in my life. Not that I've seen many hackers, he's just really mcfreaking talented. As for Rupert... lets just say he has a very black and white way of thinking. His dirty blond hair is in a bowl cut and if that doesn't say enough for you then I don't know what does. He also wears these goggles around but I don't know what's up with that.
At The Spot, I feel a calmness around me. The smell of earth and pine engulf my senses and bring forth a sense of peace. No growling can be heard, only the sounds of birds chirping and bugs doing their thing. We lock the jeep doors and walk up to the cabin. It's wooden exterior looks too good to be true. I try to turn the doorhandle, but it's locked. I knock on the entrance and it almost immediately flies open.
“You guys made it!!” Zaida says, throwing her arms around Uma and I.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, everyone made it here it's just... Dakota and I... we got separated...” Zaida says, tears forming in her eyes.
“She knows where the cabin is,” I say.
“Yeah, if we wait a bit, maybe she'll show up,” Uma says. Zaida nods and turns to go back inside the house.
As soon as you walk into the house, to your left is the kitchen, right in front of you is a staircase, next to the staircase is a bathroom, and to your right is a small living room. We don't have much money, so the house is pretty empty. Other than the original furniture, we try to put new furniture in when we find it. Like, stuff from secondhand stores that you know are clean. We made sure it was clean. I am not dealing with a bug infestation.
I shut the door behind us and a flash of light appears from the living room. I look over, my vision kinda blurred, and see Rosa with her camera, a Nikon D3300.
“That's everyone!” Rosa smiles, then bustles into the living room.
“Where is everyone?” Uma asks.
“Issa, Kali, and Rupert are in the kitchen,” Zaida answers, “And everyone else is in the living room.”
Inside the kitchen, Issa types away on his computer as Kali intensely watches. Rupert leans against the kitchen counter, not really paying attention to what's going on around him.
“What are you doing?” Uma asks.
“I'm trying to hack into the American Government's files,” Issa casually responds.
“How are you...?” I being, and not really sure how to end.
“I just wouldn't ask,” Issa says, not looking up.
“Isn't that... protected?” Uma asks.
“Yeah, that's why it's taking so long,” Issa says.
“How long do you think it'll take you to get in?” I ask.
“A few days... give or take,” Issa says, “I want to see if they had anything to do with this or if they had a plan.”
“Any theories?” Rupert asks.
“Have you ever heard of Vermin Supreme?” Issa asks.
“No, who was he?” Rupert asks.
“The guy who should've won President,” Issa says.
“What were his policies,” Rupert asks, “I didn't even know he was running.”
“Oh man, it's too late now,” Issa says, “You'll never know the greatness that is Vermin Supreme.” Rupert gives a curt sigh. I notice the gun in the holster attached to Rupert's pants. It makes me nervous to see him have something like that. He reminds me of the type of person that would use a gun for the wrong reasons. My palms feel sweaty. I really hope he only uses that gun for zombie purposes.
“You like it?” Rupert asks with a smirk and one raised eyebrow. I tear my eyes away from the gun and look at Issa.
“You said a few days?” I ask.
“Give or take,” Issa replies.
“We need at least two people to take watch,” I say, “What time is it?”
“About seven,” Zaida says, “The sun is starting to go down.”
“Do you guys mind if I rest for a bit?” I ask.
“Not at all,” Zaida says.
“Thank you,” I reply, “If someone wants to switch shifts, wake me up and I'll take it. I just need to lay down.”
“Do you need me to get you anything?” Uma asks.
“I'm fine, thank you,” I smile. I withdraw from the kitchen and head upstairs. I walk into the bedroom in the middle of the hall and shut the door behind me. The stench of mildew is all I can smell. It somehow brings me comfort. At least I know this is my one safe place.
I lay at the edge of the queen size bed. One of the springs poke into my side as I lay on the firm mattress. I adjust myself and pull the floral covers over my head. Do you think if I fall asleep, I'll wake up again in the world that wasn't filled with carnivorous corpses?