The Days Are Tired (Book #1 of the Dark Skies series) - A Zombie story

Chapter 6: Encounter

"I'm glad you're home".

I found myself taking a step back, she seemed too calm at this moment. She was visibly trembling and the dark circles under her eyes worried me. My mother's frazzled appearance and ashen face disturbed me. 

 What had happened to her while I was gone? 

My mother shook her head as if she was trying to clear her thoughts. She then proceeded to stare at her feet - unblinking.

"Mom...?"

Her head popped up and her usually warm brown eyes were now filled with unsureness. She stared at me with a distant look - eyes filled with unshed tears. 

"Bri.... your dad..... Micheal... he's sick." She said in a staccato tone in between short wheezes of air. She seemed out of it and confused. 

 I stood there not fully comprehending what she was saying. When I walked into this house I was expecting to get yelled at for sneaking out. I wasn't prepared for this.

I looked up towards Mark, my head swiveling from him to her. But his face just held a blank expression as he stared forward. "Mom.. what are you talking about?" I tugged on Mark's sleeve trying to gain his attention. I was really confused.

"Your father... he can barely keep his eyes open. His fever is running so high - and I don't know what to do." The shrillness of her voice caused my knees to weaken. 

She shifted on her feet and almost stumbled. I stepped away from Mark and ran to my mother, grasping her arms. 

"Where is he ... Mom?" She gripped my hand and led me to the stairs.

We stumbled up the wooden staircase - I could barely carry my mother's weight as she leaned on me for strength. My legs were still wobbly from the exhaustion of running all the way home. 

I looked behind me to find Mark following closely behind. We made it to the master bedroom and my mother silently opened the tall brown doors.

The sight of my father almost made my knees give completely out. I looked at my mom and shook her arm. 

"Mom, what happened to him?" I found myself whispering trying to hold back the tears. 

My father's normally brown clear skin was now a sickening pale with blotches that were peeling. This morning when I left for school he looked nothing like his current state.

She moved out of my grip and went to the side of the bed where my father lay on tan covers. He seemed to be drowning in his own sweat, the sheets were soaked with it. The white-collared work shirt that he had on his body was wet to the point you could see clearly through the thin-ish material. His nose was running, and a mixture of dark and bright snot left its entrance.

My mom felt his forehead and sprawled herself on top of him - weeping into the crook of his neck.

 She then spoke to me in a quivering voice. "I don't really know what happened. We were at the dinner party when one of your father's coworkers got sick. He was coughing all night until ....he wasn't." 

A sob left my mother as she sniffed and then tried to continue with her story.

"He sort of passed out for a few minutes and your father went over to help him. He was doing CPR when the man suddenly woke up." My mother grabbed and then held my father's hand looking at him with pity and love.

 I could barely breathe as I looked at them.

"When the man woke up he began throwing up everywhere. And it got on your father's face. Your father got up and ran away from the man who seemed to get a new burst of strength. He went crazy - the man started attacking people. Your father and I called the police and then quickly left. But by the time we got home, your father was in this condition."