Static Screams

The color is what caught my eye. Of course, I couldn’t for the life of me remember what any of them had been wearing before they left.

I had waited as long as I could before fearing that the worst had befallen my friends. Hours had passed from the time they had left at daybreak, storm clouds rolling over the remains of the city and creeping into the suburbs, right into us. I paced by the windows in between feeding the babies and playing with Seven. Nat helped me hand wash the babies’ clothes and cloth diapers in the bathroom sink. We even washed everyone’s underwear and socks.

We tried to keep ourselves occupied between washing clothes and hanging them over the shower curtain rod, and when that task was completed, we moved on to something else.

I enjoyed Nat’s company the most, I think, because she was comfortable in the silence. She didn’t try to fill the emptiness with incessant chatter. She never complained of boredom. She was content to exist in the silence, in the peace, in the stillness. She filled the space with her presence, her energy being a warm, comfy blanket spread over the room.

The babies were fed and napping, Seven was scribbling in a coloring book scavenged along our journey, using red and blue ballpoint pens to color.

Nat, from the couch, noticed my pacing back and forth to the window. “Maybe they’ll bring him back some crayons,” she spoke, before her attention focused on the book on her lap.

“Maybe,” I muttered. My breath fogged up the glass on the window.

My reflection faintly stared back at me from the window. My red hair was dull and flat, shaggy in the back and laying flat against my ears. My face was gaunt, with dark circles around my eyes with the appearance of bruises. My eyes were blank, passive, empty.

Motherhood was not being kind to me. I was exhausted. My body hurt all over, and the worry never stopped. My babies, my beautiful babies, I was terrified of them and for them. I loved them so much. I didn’t want anything to ever happen to them. My motherly instincts were to protect them, but I didn’t know how. I was thinking too hard, beginning to panic. I needed to get out.

“I’m going to find them,” I muttered. “While there’s still enough light.”

Nat stared at me, hard. “Lila, no. You’re not.”

I turned to face her and set my jaw. “Yes, I am.” I stormed over to my boots and yanked them on, tightening the laces.

“Lila, it’s a blizzard. We can’t see ten feet out the window. You can’t go out there, you’ll get lost.”

I pulled my sweaters and jacket over me as quickly as I could, before I lost my nerve. “I am aware that there’s a blizzard.” I sighed, pulling the zipper up. “I’ll stay within eyesight of the door. I’ll yell so at least if they are close by they can find us.”

Nat’s eyes narrowed at me, but she nodded anyway. “Okay. I still don’t like it, but I guess it’s the closest I’m going to get to keeping you inside.”

I gave Nat an apologetic look before creeping out of the door to the suite and down the long, dark hallway. It was silent as I crept down the stairs and to the front door. Though we had cleared the entire building of the undead over the last few days, it was unsettling to feel as though you were being watched even if you knew for a fact you weren’t.

I pushed through the door out to the covered front entrance of the hotel. The building itself was a pale white and barely noticeable in the snow, but with any hope someone would see the bright green canopy over the entrance to the lobby.

The wind was so fierce and cold, tearing through my jacket and layers of sweaters immediately, and goosebumps erupted over my skin. In my haste to get out, I forgot to put on my gloves, and I was already regretting it.

For five minutes I bounced up and down beneath the lime green canopy, trying to keep myself warm while I called out the names of my friends. It didn’t occur to me that I was making myself a target for zombies, or anyone else for that matter. All that mattered to me was that I was doing something that wasn’t sitting on my hands and worrying.

There were a few small dots of color trudging through the snow in my direction. With the density of the snowfall and the unpredictability of the wind, it was hard to tell at first if they were zombies or my friends. After a moment of watching them struggle against the wind, I could see that it was my friends after all, loaded with stolen goods from the grocery store.

“Hey!” I cried out, waving eagerly. However, the same moment I called out to them, a gust of wind carrying a wall of snow plowed into them, knocking each to the ground. “Ah, fuck,” I muttered as I started to maneuver my way to them.

“Scar! Darren! Logan! Wren!” I called their names over and over as I stumbled to where I had last seen them.

Over the whoosh of the wind whipping in my ears, I heard a faint voice call out, “Lila! Lila!” I swiveled my head back and forth against the biting cold, hoping to pinpoint the voice’s location.

“Hello?” I called back. “Keep talking!”

The voice seemed to be coming from my right, and I found the source as I tripped over Scarlett.

“Oof,” I landed in the snow with a thud. “My bad.”

She rubbed her forehead. “Did you kick me?” She had to yell over the wind.

“Not on purpose,” I smiled back, hoisting her bag over my shoulder and pulling her up. “We gotta find the others.”

For a moment there was silence, before Logan popped up a few feet ahead of us. She looked dazed but as her gaze settled on Scarlett, she was able to stand and get herself situated.

I wandered to the left where I had seen the other two before the wind knocked them over. I was hoping that the delay in standing was just exhaustion, or perhaps they had the breath knocked out of them, versus any serious injuries.

I stumbled upon Darren checking himself over for breaks or sprains. He waved me off as soon as he saw me, effortlessly stood up, and walked over to a pile of snow from which he pulled Wren. Wren was definitely cold, blue lips and shaking hands, but everyone from this group appeared to be safe and sound. I herded them inside and to our room, storing away food and giving them as many blankets as possible to warm them.

I would do my best not to worry about my friends who were unaccounted for.

It wouldn’t work.