After Hours

Chapter 25

Ember's POV.

   How is he one of Them? How much have I missed? I keep my distance from his cell because the last thing I want it to get scratched or bitten by him. I can't help feeling bad for him. Cause after all, he only got here last night.

  "I'm sorry, Ethan," I whisper, get up and walk away from his cell.

   I keep to the walls, inching along them farther and farther into the room. I see another cell a few feet away from Ethan's and peer inside. All I see is a jacket. No one in there. I peer into the other cells then feel it. Freezing air on my back. I get a terrified feeling and my eyes fill with tears. I slowly turn around and gasp. The ShadowMan is standing, or floating?, in front of me. I can't even form words. I'm terrified and I know I'm going to die here. The ShadowMan takes me by the neck and literally throws me into Ethan's jail cell. I cower against the wall as Ethan takes shaky, ragged steps towards me.

  "No, Ethan! Ethan, it's me, I'm not going to hurt you!" I say, pressing myself as far away from him as I can.

   He nearly reaches me, then falls back on the ground. I then notice the chains around his wrists and sigh with relief. The ShadowMan has disappeared, leaving me alone with Ethan. I sink to my knees against the cell wall and take out Vanessa's phone. The time says 10:00 at night. I hear the occasional footstep above me, but I think Disneyland is closing soon. I wipe the sweat off my brow, panting hard. Gosh it's hot. Ethan keeps on trying to reach me, but it's no use with the chains on his hands.

  "I'm so sorry, Ethan," I say to him, even though I know he's far from listening. "I'm sorry you were dragged into this mess. I'm sorry any of us were. I wish I could get us all out, I really do," Ethan looks at me blankly with those pearly white eyes. "Not that you know anything I'm saying. Wonder where Cameron is," I say, thinking of him suddenly.

   Why isn't Cameron here? Seems weird. Shouldn't he be here with Ethan? He's totally not here. I suddenly think of something that makes me gasp. I put a hand over my mouth, not wanting to believe it.

  "Cameron isn't doing all of this, is he?" I ask Ethan, then chuckle to myself. "Cameron wouldn't do that. He wouldn't at all. There is no way he is capable of doing this, right?" I ask Ethan, knowing he won't give me a response.

   Ethan grunts at me and continues to try and reach me. I fiddle with the pass code on Vanessa phone. I type in "Cameron" and to my astonishment, it opens.

  "Wow, Vanessa, wow," I say and smile.

   I know I shouldn't be snooping on her phone but honestly. She could care less. I click on her photos app and start going through them. My mom would kill me if she knew I was going through someone's phone.

  "But Mama ain't here right now," I say.

   I can't believe I said that. I must be going crazy. I slide through her pictures, stopping on a few. One particular picture makes me stop. I see Vanessa and Eva, arms around each other. I see a mom and a dad and a small dog. They all look so happy. An unbroken family. How I wish I could say the same for mine.

   I click off her phone and shove it in my pocket. A tear trickles down my cheek as I think of what my mom is thinking right now. How long has the police and search team been at our house, unrelenting to try and find me. How many times as a police man told my mom to calm down and my mom only yells louder and sends more people out to find me? What is Grayson's dad doing right now? Searching with the police, I'm sure. What about Vanessa and Eva's parents? Sure they are worried sick. And Ethan, Jess, and Cameron. All searching for the ones that makes their family better, makes their family stronger. How it must feel to have a father. Must feel nice, I wouldn't know.

   I wipe my tear away and look at Ethan. "Who's in your family? I imagine you having a sister, a mom and dad, and...cats. You don't seem like a dog kinda guy. Did I get it right?" I ask him, but only get a misty eyed look.

   What am I doing? Talking to this half-dead boy? I take my hair out of a ponytail and finger-comb through it. It's very greasy and it makes me grimace. I'm starving too, like starving starving. I look down at my stomach and notice that I can count my ribs.

  "Cool," I say as I count them.

   I bit my dirt filled nails and crunch the dirt between my teeth. Anything seems good right now. Like that pale of something lying by Ethan's feet. I jump to my feet and glance at Ethan. Is he sleeping? Weird I didn't know zombies slept. I press my body against the wall and move to the pail. I step quietly, looking from Ethan to the pale. I reach the pale inches away from Ethan's feet and reach for it. I look inside and take a sniff. I gag at the smell and that gag triggers Ethan. He jumps to his feet, making me jump. I grab the pale and press back up against the wall. He reaches for me, scratching my arm slightly. I run back to my place and the chain drags him back against the wall.

  "Oh, no," I say, looking at my arm.

   A small scratch, no bigger than a pin is on my wrist. No blood is coming out, so I tell myself I'm fine. I look into the pail and my gag reflex triggers again. Ethan is still trying to reach for me and I look up at him.

  "What is this?" I ask him. "Smells weird. Here," I get up and fish some of it out with my hands. "You taste it first, tell me what you think, then I'll taste it."

   I toss a handful of it to Ethan and he eats it quickly, not bothering to have nice table manners.

  "Chew with your mouth closed, please," I say, turning my nose up in disgust. "Anyway, how was it? Will I like it?"

   Ethan growls back at me and I smile. "Smells bad, but hey so does brussel sprouts then you taste them, and they are amazing," I say and sit back down.

   What am I saying? Am I going crazy? Seems like it. I guess it's better for me to cope with my situation like this. I dig my hand into the mixture and lift it to my mouth, careful not to smell it. I put a handful in my mouth and chew for a second. I have made a horrible mistake. I throw up before I can get the mixture out of my mouth. I continue to throw up until I feel like my stomach is officially empty.

  "Ethan!" I say and stand up. "You lied to me! You said it tasted good!"

   I throw the pail to him and he starts to eat it. I cross my arms and look down at my vomit. I begin to trace patterns in it and smile at my work.

  "Not bad," I say.

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