The Passing

Chapter Twenty-four

Nightfall comes, and Alondra has yet to return with any news, or update. Not that I expect her to tell me anything. One thing that shocks me is how lit the streets are here. I expected it to be dark by now, but as the sun set, streetlights gradually turned on, their glow growing with the setting sun. Back home, it was a common rule to keep all light to a minimum after dark, simply because the light would attract the dead. But here, with walls as tall as these, they don't have to worry about the dead wandering in.

Another thing that's different here, is the commotion of lives being lived here, never stop. They never settle into their beds at night, maybe some but not all. Voices carry on outside as several sets of shoes walk past, kicking up dust behind them. At some point, I choose to get closer, perching on the table by the window to get a look outside. I half expected everyone to be dressed in uniforms like the ones i've seen guards wear, however, the majority of people are dressed in regular clothes. But, why is everyone outside like this? Is this normal?

The lock shifts behind me, and two people enter the room. One in black stands by the door, staring me down as if his eyes alone could kill me. The other gingerly enters the room, gripping a metal tray in her hands with white knuckles and the one in black gestures to the floor. With a nod, she scurries over, setting the tray down closer than anyone else has approached me so far. Her eyes meet mine, and I watch as her pupils dilate as her cheeks flush, obviously nervous and frightened. She rushes back out of the room, snapping from her deer like trance at once. Why is everyone so afraid of me? I have to die in order to return, and those things don't happen seconds apart. It takes time for the virus to jump start the brain. But the way she looked at me, the way her eyes glossed over and how her body went rigid for a split second, just how it would if she saw a dead person. Or a roamer.

The one in black scowls at me, lips parting as if planning on going off on me, but he stops himself as his radio sputters on his belt. Just like that, he leaves, the door is shut and the lock is returned. I glance back at the tray that sits just a few feet away. Despite the metal dome covering it, the aroma of its contents immediately fills the small space.

"Jane," I whisper loudly, inching closer to the tray.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think they'd still feed me if your medicine didn't work?" I stare at the tray.

She takes a moment to respond. Her feet shuffle across the floor as she comes closer to her side of the wall. "They brought you food?" Turning to the tray on the floor, I nudge the metal dome with my foot, tipping it until it clatters away. "What did they bring you? Got anything you can fit through this hole?" My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach. On the tray sits a bowl of rice and beans, completely smothered in dark red chunky blood. My stomach hurtles and vomit rushes up my throat. Who's blood is this? Why would they do this? Scrambling for the lid, I cover the crimson bowl and shove the tray away from me.

"Kimila?" Jane's voice comes through the wall, and I back up until my back hits it. This place isn't going to be so kind to me when my time comes. I just know it.

"I have to get out of here." I swallow hard, sinking to the floor as I examine every inch of these four walls. There's gotta be a way out.

"I know. We need a plan." She starts, rambling while my own mind wanders elsewhere. She can't come with me. It's not safe. I'm not safe. Someone passes by my window, flashing the moon's reflection through the dirty glass. Then it clicks. Jane keeps on but I can't hear her over my racing thoughts. Nearly leaping to the tray, I rip it from the ground, spilling the contents of the bowl on the floor. Stepping over the mess, I charge for the window and launch the tray at it with all my strength. The corner of it hits the glass, but the glass doesn't break. The tray rattles loudly on the ground, and Jane immediately stops her rant.