Second {Z Nation}

Chapter 8

Season 1, Episode 13 [Doctor of the Dead]

     The stage is set, trees line the back wall and it looks very much like a forest, aside from the fact it's fake and inside a highschool's auditorium. The actors are prepped, the lost boys look dirty and everyone looks perfect and accustomed to their costumes. I, however, fidget in my dress- I hate dresses with a passion- they're not practical! I pull on the sides of the skirt and desperately wish for a pair of pants, even shorts would do! But no, it's the night of the show, and the clock on the wall tells me we'll be starting in fifteen minutes.

     Realization dawns on me and my stomach lurches and twists in knots. I look around the crowded backstage to try and see if anyone feels the same as I, but no one shows it. Probably because they are wearing pants. I take a deep breath and rehearse my lines in my head, I'm playing the female lead; Wendy- both young and old, I took the part because I didn't think the nerves would get to me. Boy, was I wrong.

     Suddenly someone in lost boy get-up rushes over to me and puts a hand on my forearm; "Elle, you're on in five," he tells me, and I silently applaud our costume team, he wears what looks like animal skin and leaves, his raven black hair is messy and it has twigs in it, his face is dirty- but his blue eyes still shine bright.

     "No, it was-" I stammer, looking over at the clock, but there it is- 10 minutes have passed and I'm to get set on stage for the curtain to open. "Oh, god," I say turning to the entrance to the stage on the left. "Thank you-" I say, turning back to him.

     "It's Thomas," he smiles at me.

     "Thanks, Tom-" I start but Mr.Bevers- a short, plump, balding man without a nice bone in his body sporting wire-rimmed glasses perched, as always, on the tip of his droopy nose- yells my name.

     "ELIZABETHYL MOEN," he calls the name he's used for me since I was in his grade nine science class.

     "That's not my name!" I yell back at him as I've done many times before.

     "ON STAGE NOW," he commands.

     I saunter on stage and take my mark, and I watch as the curtains slowly glide open to reveal a full house, not an empty seat- there are even people standing along the sides of our auditorium that fits 700 odd bodies. I gulp before taking a deep breath, pushing my butterflies down and belting out the first line.

     I sit up from my slumber, accidentally waking Cassandra, who was fast asleep- her head in my lap. I place a hand on her forehead and feel her temperature. But her forehead feels like asphalt mid-July on a day where there hasn't been a cloud for the past week, the grass is dry and you could fry an egg on your head if you wanted to. It's that hot. Warren looks back at me through the rear-view mirror and I shake my head. She's really not doing good. 

     Warren looks back at the road before pulling over; "We're gonna take a little break," she announces and everyone gets out. 

     I help Cassandra sit up before shifting over and opening the back of the same van we left the Pharmaceutical warehouse in. I hop out, breathing in the fresh air- we'd been stuck in that cramped, hot, box for over seven hours and it was due time for a pit-stop. I turn around and offer a hand to Cassandra who slides out with my help. Once her feet are on the ground, though, she almost collapses.

     "Woah there," I say, catching her before she even touches the ground.

     "Sorry, my legs are asleep," she tells me- but I know it's a blatant lie, she's weak- the infection has spread and if we don't get meds soon Doc says... who am I kidding? We all know that she's past saving, we got some treatments for the infection from the warehouse, it didn't work. But I'm sure there's something out there... somewhere... I know it...