27

The buck meat lasted even longer than I'd expected, with my appetite dwindling the longer the nightmares went on and the battery powered freezers keeping it fresh. At least something good came out of it, I figured. Rationing the way I was, I didn't have to hunt for weeks.

I wasn't sure exactly how long it had been. The bedroom walls were covered in tallies, counting days, weeks, months, probably even years, but I'd long since stopped bothering with them. It was my sister that had been so adamant on keeping track of time, but it was just me now, so I let the days blend together. I didn't want to think about how long it had been since I'd seen my family alive and well. Concrete numbers somehow made it worse; too real, maybe.

I spent my time carving the buck's bones into arrowheads and trying to repair what I thought was an old music player. I got the thing to power up once, the screen lighting up and for about forty seconds I scrolled through names and titles. Then the screen went black over half the side, the other half flickering with vertical lines of white, red, and green. It shut off after that. I hadn't been able to turn it on since.

I'd made my way into the kitchen to look for the knife sharpener when I heard it. At first, I really thought I was imagining things, that being alone for so long was finally starting to get to me and I was losing my mind; but that's wasn't the case. Voices. There were voices, at least three different people, outside of my door.

I couldn't help it. Before I even fully registered what I was doing, I'd stepped out of the kitchen and toward the door, drawn toward the voices. It'd been far too long since I'd been around any other people, except the Ill. The Ill didn't talk. They didn't do much of anything, except eat. Most didn't consider them people, even. Not anymore.

I wasn't about to reveal myself to them, but I was curious, and part of me craved the interaction. I shoved that part down, but still stepped closer to the front door, holding my breath and listening. They got close enough that I could hear their footsteps as well as their voices. One spoke animatedly about the architecture of the building. He seemed surprised that there were so many floor unmarked by wildlife, so many apartments left untouched. Another just hoped they'd find some food that hadn't expired so long ago his grandma would have seen it sour.

I was so focused on the friendly conversation that I startled when another voice cut through them sharply, and the group immediately fell silent. I took a step back. They were right outside my door, but I couldn't fathom why they might have stopped. There were plenty of other apartments on my floor, and they hadn't shown much interest in the others, apart from the one that seemed he could be excited by just about anything. My muscles tensed. They'd been quiet too long. It suddenly occurred to me that I should have locked the door. I'd stopped taking that precaution some time ago, figuring if I'd gone this long without seeing anyone, it wouldn't be a problem. The Ill didn't venture to the higher floors much. It was too far from the sewers. It was also stupid of me to assume they would be my only problem.

The door opened, and I froze. It was brief, but long enough for a tall man with golden skin and nearly white hair to lift his gun, the whole group soon leaping to action after him. I yelped, and jumped away, at the precise moment that the gun went off. I flew into the kitchen. Two more shots pierced the wall behind where I'd previously stood. I jumped at each impact.

"Shit!" a man yelled, and I assumed it was the one that had shot at me. "What the hell is that thing doing all the way up here?!"

I winced. Multiple sets of heavy footsteps started toward me. "Don't come any closer!" Somehow, I managed to be embarrassed by how hoarse my voice was. I really needed to get some more water.

The room fell silent for a split second, then exploded, three voices overlapping one another.

"What the hell?!"

"It talked!"

"I've never heard one talk before!"

"I thought they lost the ability to speak when they turned.."

"Yeah, or the brain power."

"Does that really matter? You saw it! We kill it before it kills us. Or worse, turns us into one of them."

"But look at her!"

"Yes, look at IT! It's obviously Ill. Let's just put it out of its misery and get the hell out of here!"

I'd honestly lost track of who was talking, the voices blending together, but it certainly wasn't looking well for me. My stomach churned.

"Doc would sure love to hear about this..."

"Doc is sick."

"Maybe we should bring her back with us."

"Are you INSANE?!"

The same stern voice from before cut through the noise, "Stop." They did. I could tell from their sputters and heavy breaths that they weren't happy about it. "Look."

The room was quiet for a long time, apart from the shuffled sounds of movement. None of them were moving closer to me, though. I took that as a good sign at first, but as the seconds dragged on, I became less sure. Carefully, silently, heart pounding in my chest, I peeked around the corner.

Next to the man that had shot at me was an equally tall man with dark skin and a strong jaw, his hair cut so close to his head that I wondered if he'd been entirely bald a week ago. He was muscular, but not nearly as bulky as the other. The blond's biceps were easily the size of my waist. Behind them was a boy, significantly taller than me but not as tall as either of the others. His fingers twitched at his sides, like he was holding in too much energy for his size and was itching to move. I couldn't see his face, as it was shielded from by view by his massive amounts of curly hair, dark at the roots but fading to a light brown near the ends.

In front of the group was a woman with light brown skin that looked warm to the touch, but that was the only thing about her that struck me as warm. Her brown eyes were calculating, her hair pulled back in a braid so tight I wondered she'd pulled any hair out in the process of doing it. She had high cheekbones, a face compiled of sharp features that made her look equally beautiful and dangerous. Her body rippled with lean muscle. She reminded me of a jungle cat my father had shown me pictures of once, sleek and dark, hypnotic and deadly. There were no lines in her skin. I got the impression she never smiled.

Her eyes flicked toward me, and I gasped. They were all standing in front of the freezers, one of them open and sending cold mist through the air. The woman's voice cut through the silence, "Look."

The group turned in unison. The blond jumped back with a startled "Shit!" and rose his gun, yet again, toward me. I squeaked pathetically and spun away. I really didn't want to take a bullet. As strange as it may sound, I really didn't want to hurt any of them, either.

"Spike," I heard the woman stay in a calm but stern tone. The man sputtered. I stupidly risked peeking out from my hiding spot again, only to find that she'd pushed his arm back down, and he was staring at her in complete bewilderment. Those dark eyes turned back to me. "We aren't going to hurt you," she told me calmly. I wasn't sure I believed that.

"The hell we aren't!" the blond snarled, glaring gold eyes flicking from her to me. Apparently, I wasn't the only one.

The woman ignored him. "What's your name?" she asked slowly. I wasn't sure how to answer that. The memories of my family were filled with laughter and things they called me, but there were so many different words and I honestly doubted anymore if a single one of them was really a name all my own. Most I knew for sure were terms of endearment, things we all called each other.

I didn't answer.

Just when I thought she might change her mind and decide to let the man kill me after all, the boy with all the hair spoke up, so quiet I wasn't sure the rest of the room would be able to hear him. "Look at her eye."

My muscles tensed. I knew immediately what he was talking about. The Ill all had the same pale blue eyes, turning white the closer they got to the pupils. I hadn't managed to escape that. Not entirely.

"You mean eyes, genius? It does have two of them. Christ." The golden man rolled his eyes.

"No," the woman cut in simply, then waited.

I held my breath, and waited, too. I wasn't sure how this would affect their decisions. My right eye, which was hidden behind the wall, was the same ghostly blue as the Ill. My left eye, on the other hand, was the same as it had always been- a dimensional green, with flecks of brown and a ring of dark turquoise that made my sister deem the overall color hazel. I knew exactly what they were looking at as all four strangers stared into my one shown eye. I'd stared, too, just about any time I'd had a chance to see my own reflection. Some days, that eye was the only thing that convinced me I was still human.

"So she talks and she's got weird eyes, who cares? She's still one of those things! Just a thing with a glitch, is all. That's probably worse." Part of me- a part I tried to bury but it was far too big a part- thought he might be right.

Just as the man was starting to lift his weapon again, another boy shoved through the doorway and into their group, talking quickly. One of his hands held a wrinkled, colorful piece of paper that I immediately recognized as a map, although of what I hadn't the foggiest. His other moved animatedly through the air in front of him, punctuating his words. "Guys, guys, you'll never believe what I found in the apartment down the hall. I thought those vines ended floors down, but some got through the window in this one room and- I can hardly believe it, it's so exciting!" He kept cutting himself off, but no one else in the group even tried to interrupt him. I figured they were just waiting for him to realize they had bigger concerns, and look where they were all still staring: at me. "Angel Blossoms." He giggled. He actually giggled. "Angel Blossoms! Can you believe it? I've never seen them in this region before, not since we left-"

That time when he cut himself off, he didn't start up again. His eyes had finally followed the gazes of his friends. He did a double take, then stared at me. His face fell, but it didn't last long. "Well, I'll be..." That easy grin spread slowly back across his lips as he looked me over. I started to slip back into the kitchen. "Hello, there, little one. It's alright, you can come on out," his voice was gentle, almost reassuring, but when he stepped forward I jumped sideways. I couldn't see them anymore, but somehow I knew he was talking to the blond when he snapped, "What's wrong with you? You're scaring her!"

"It's not a her," the man growled, "it's an it, one of those things, and we need to kill it and get the hell out of here."

"Are you crazy?" The boy's voice hit such a high note I winced again. "She's just an innocent girl! Yeesh, put that down and chill."

"You're the crazy one! That ain't no innocent girl, it's not even a girl! Not no more."

"Spike," came the calm but stern, warning voice again. The only response she got was a growl.

"Are you kidding me? What Ill do you know that acts like this, hides from big men? Besides, you had to have seen her. Her face? Sure she's pale, but she doesn't have that eye thing going on. She probably just hasn't seen the son in a while. If she was an Ill, she'd have bum rushed us by now and tried to get a bite out of your meaty ass. Probably succeeded, too, with how sl- hey, what's that?" Gee, the guy sure could ramble. I was pretty sure he'd been the excitable one I'd heard outside earlier. I wondered briefly how I hadn't heard him step away from the group before they came in. "Is that- are those freezers? But how on earth are they powered, there hasn't been electricity in years. What? Batteries! They're battery powered! Why, how fascinating. When was the last time we found batteries that weren't dead? And yet here they are, all powered up and ready to go. Hey, when was the last time you saw an Ill do something like that, eh?"

"Oi, little one, aren't you going to come back out?" The boy had turned his attention back to me, apparently. I tensed, squeezing my eyes shut to get rid of the prickle on the back of my neck. "Don't let ol' Spikey here scare you," he continued. I could hear the grin in his voice. "None of us are going to hurt you. You have my word. Oh, that probably doesn't mean much to you, does it? But it will! You'll see, I always keep my word. Assuming you come with us. I mean, you should. This place isn't very secure, and it looks like you're all by yourself, aren't you? How'd that happen? Aw, shoot, that's probably a sensitive subject, eh?" No kidding. "Are you alive in there? Hello?" His voice lowered, like he was trying to keep me from hearing. It didn't work. "Can she talk?"

"Yes," confirmed a voice I had trouble placing. "She talked earlier. Not since, though, now that I think about it..."

"Aw, you guys really scared her!" he half chided, half whined. I think I heard him stomp his foot, but it was muffled by the carpet and covered by the loud crinkling of paper being folded and put away. "Come on, little one," he cooed softly, and I heard his footsteps nearing. I inched away from the opening of the kitchen, toward the window. "Come on out."

Quickly, I contemplated jumping out the window; but then what? There was a fire escape, but it was old, and I wasn't even sure it could hold my weight, however meager it might be. I heard it groan sometimes on windy nights. I doubted I'd make it two steps before the rusted metal gave out on me. Even if it didn't, it wasn't as though I had anywhere to go. This was my home, the only home I knew. I'd lived there for as long as I could remember, when my family was alive and after...

I yelped when the boy appeared in the archway. He smiled at me. It was a bright expression, and his sky blue eyes held no malice. I wanted to trust him, partly because of that earnest look and even more because it seemed like my only option if I didn't want this to turn into a huge mess, but that didn't mean I did. Trust wasn't that easy. Not in this world.

"There you are!" He stepped into the kitchen, but I jumped away, holding my hand out to fend him off. His smile faltered. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Don't come near me." He looked surprised to hear me speak, even though the others had already told him I could. I saw hints of green in his curious eyes as he looked into mine, and was reminded of the sea- a sea I'd never seen. "Don't- you can't touch me." The urgency of the matter made my voice screech in a way that made me distinctly uncomfortable. "I don't want to make you sick."

The boy stopped his advance, head jerking back in surprise, but he didn't back away. His eyebrows lifted, and he blinked widely at me. Again, his smile returned. "Well, well." The smile stretched back into a grin, and his head turned toward the living room, but his eyes never left mine. "She's harmless. I don't know what you guys are so worked up about- okay, scratch that, because I'm definitely worked up too, but really. Fascinating." He blew out a breath on that last word, as if he'd momentarily lost track of his own speech. "I say we bring her back. Doc would sure love to meet her." He shook his head, but it wasn't any sort of denial. "I'm Atlas. What's your name?"

He held his hand out toward me. I stared at it, and took another step back. "I..." Regretfully, I rasped out, "I don't know."

"That's alright, little one." My eyes lifted to meet his, and I slowly dropped my hand, but still backed up until I hit the cold glass of the window. He was still grinning at me. I wondered how someone like him and someone like the gun wielding golden man had ever become friends. "We're quite skilled in that particular department."