until the very end

part 1

When there was still no response after calling my brother’s name three times, I slowly pushed open the front door, holding my knife ready just in case. I didn’t think my reserved, introverted brother would actually be capable of attacking someone, but you never knew what he would do if he was frightened. Especially in this grim new world the idiotic population of Perdido Beach called ‘The FAYZ’.
It had been hardly two months since the FAYZ started, but people already started to lose their minds, unable to adapt to this strange new world. I saw it happen all around me. As if it wasn’t enough that everyone aged eightteen and above had disappeared, stranger things were happening as well. A frown appeared in my forehead as I thought about the whispers in the streets. More and more people were said to be ‘gifted’. Or ‘turning into mutated moofs’, as Zil Sperry and his ‘Human Crew’ called it – a pathetic group of people without powers that were now ganging up, mostly to complain about us and slam some windows together.

I thought back about that moment Diana read me. She said my power was increasing, just like some of the others. The first time, I had been a one-bar. The second time, I was a strong two-bar, almost a weak three-bar. Not much. But still…
Ever since that moment, I had been wondering what it would be, this mysterious power of mine. I hoped it would be something useful. I had been practising my knife skills and self-defense skills even before the FAYZ, when things started to get suspicious at Coates. But as the weeks went by, and more and more people started having powers and guns, I wondered if knives would be enough.
However, I knew it wasn’t my primary concern – at least not yet. Until I figured out a better plan, my concern was on surviving, staying on the good sides of the people that mattered, trying to stay away from the many people that kept pissing me off – at least the ones that were more powerful than me. That, and making sure my brother would eat.

I slowly climbed the stairs of the house he lived in to hide himself from the world, holding my knife in front of me, ready to fight off whatever – or whoever – would try to attack me. I felt my concern grow as I still heard no sign of my brother. If he wasn’t home, then where else could he be? The day we invaded Perdido Beach with Caine and a bunch of other kids from Coates, Brend had moved into one of the many empty houses, and decided to call it his. For as far as I knew, he had not left this place ever since, not even to get food – a scarce supply we were starting to run out of.
I hesitated one moment before knocking on ‘his’ bedroom door. “Brend? I’m coming in,” I said loudly.
I kicked open the door. I was greeted by a muffled scream coming from the closet.
I sighed, putting the knife down. “Really, Brend?”

I swang open the closet. There he was, my sweet little brother, curled up into a ball, protecting his face with his hands. His bright red hair with dark roots looked even messier than usual. 
“P-please make it quick…” He proceeded to say.
I raised an eyebrow. “Brend. It’s Gwen. You know, your sister,” I said dryly.

He looked up upon hearing my voice. I had never seen him like this. Big, black bags under his eyes, a combination of a lack of sleep and smudged eyeliner. Even during the Fayz, when there was no one around to see him, he refused to swear off his emo make-up.

I narrowed my eyes. “Did someone hurt you?” I tried to sound calm, but I heard my voice raise an octave.
He flinched, backing away as if he tried to make himself even smaller. “Sk-Skyler…” he mumbled.
“Skyler?” I frowned, thinking about the girl who used to be one of my main enemies at Coates back in the day. “Skyler Downson?”
Brend nodded and whimpered softly, as if he was afraid Skyler could somehow hear him.

I hated a lot of my fellow students back there, but dear god, this girl was annoying. Always bragging about how she could easily take me on because her fucked up family had taught her different kinds of fighting and even some gun skills. As if that was supposed to intimidate me. My family never taught me anything, everything I knew I either taught myself or by fixing free fighting sessions by batting my eyelashes at some of the strong boys at Coates. That’s the thing about physically strong boys: they are all muscles, but usually don’t know their way with girls very well. Something I knew how to use to my advantage.
Using people to my advantage, that’s what I did. What I had always done, to survive.