ZOEY [Featured Story]

II

They rode slowly through the streets, but even so the cold wind hurt Zoey's eyes, and so she kept them closed. That wasn't the only reason she kept them closed, though. There were lots of crashed cars, or cars just parked in the middle of the road, and some of them still had people in them, but the people weren't moving or trying to get out. She wished she could close her ears, too. The sound of Uncle Bear's bike made it difficult to hear anything else, but sometimes when he had to slow down, or go up onto the footpath because there was a telephone pole in the road, she could hear other sounds. Loud bangs, or people shouting, or worst of all, people laughing. She couldn't think why anyone would be laughing like that, in the dark, when everything else was so silent.

It wasn't long before she saw one of them. A laugher. He was standing in the front yard of one of the houses they passed, his legs pressed up against the wire fence, watching them with wide eyes. His head was tilted a little to the side, and he was grinning, clicking his teeth together. His laugh was like some sort of animal sound. It reminded her of her cousin's dog. She was a tiny thing covered in yellow fluff that was turning white as she got older. Her cousin Russell called her Cujo, and laughed every time he said her name, but Zoey didn't understand the joke. Her daddy called it a purse rat. Once, Russell had taken her into their basement and said he wanted to show her something funny the dog could do. Cujo had just finished eating, and Russell picked her up, and squeezed her really hard in the tummy, three times. Cujo yelped at first, then started making a wheezing noise. First one long wheeze, then lots of small gasps, then another long wheeze. Russell said she was laughing. He thought it was very funny, and Zoey hated him for it. Eventually, Cujo waddled into the corner and threw up, then ate it again. Russell found that even funnier. Zoey was glad when, a few weeks later, Cujo bit Russell on the chin after he'd been pulling faces at her, and he had to get stitches, but she didn't see Cujo anymore after that.

But the wheezing, gasping sound this man was making was just like Cujo. Like someone was squeezing the laugh out of him. Uncle Bear put a hand around her and rubbed her shoulder, and said, 'Just look away, sweetie.'

Eventually they stopped. Zoey had been starting to doze, but she woke to the sudden silence as the bike's engine shut off. They had parked across the street from a house with lots of other bikes in the front yard. In the dark they looked like a sleeping herd of sheep, but Zoey thought that if they were sheep, they would probably go somewhere else, because there wasn't much grass, and what little there was was full of broken bottles and take-away wrappers. Not far from them, in the middle of the street, two cars hugged each other, surrounded by tiny pieces of glass that glittered like diamonds in the moonlight. There was something else glittering on the road. Something red and dark, like wet paint, making a trail from one of the cars, past the bikes, and into the house.

Uncle Bear pulled off his helmet, wiped his eyes on the back of his arm, then ran a hand through his tangled beard. He sat for a long time, just staring at the house across the street. At last he turned to Zoey.

'Time for a new set of wheels, little miss. First class from here on out. Get you your own seat and everything.'

He unfastened the belt that held them together and hefted her off the seat. Zoey felt his chest swell with a huge sigh, then he carried her towards the house. Glass crunched and squeaked under his heavy boots with each slow step, and he turned his head constantly, looking up and down the dark street, bending to glance under the smashed cars, peering around each of the bikes on the lawn. He stopped next to a bike that looked like it had a little boat coming out its side. Still holding Zoey with one hand, he reached into the little boat and pulled out a jacket, some cans of drink, some small plastic baggies. He tossed these behind him, along with something that looked like a long, burnt lightbulb that exploded across the concrete driveway and made Zoey jump.

Next he popped open a small compartment in the front and tossed more things to the ground. Some papers, a cracked pair of sunglasses, candy wrappers and a packet of Tic Tacs. When it was empty, he slammed it closed with a growl.

'Dammit, Stevo,' he muttered. 'Since when did you start taking your keys with you. Son of a b-' He glanced at Zoey. '...Bucket.'

He squeezed the bike's handlebar several times, looking from the house, to the bike, then back across the road to his own bike.

'Dammit,' he said again. He set Zoey down, standing her on the side of the bike so they were eye to eye. 'I need to...go inside for a bit. Find a friend of mine.'

Zoey's eyes widened, and she suddenly realised she had to go to the bathroom.

'I can't take you in with me, so you'll have to...' he thought for a moment. 'What we're gonna do is play hide and seek, okay? You ever play hide and seek with your mum and dad?'

Zoey nodded. But she didn't want to play hide and seek. It frightened her, being alone. When Mummy and Daddy told her to go and hide, it usually meant they wanted to fight. They would shout and scream at each other for a while, and then she would hear them bouncing on the bed, and usually after that they forgot to look for her, and she would sit in her dark closet for hours.

'Well, you can hide in here, I'll put this jacket over you, and you stay quiet as a mouse so that nobody will be able to find you.'

Zoey tucked her legs in as he lowered her into the little boat. 'But you'll amember where I am, won't you?' she asked in a tiny voice.

''Course I will,' he said. 'I'll come find you just as soon as I can. I promise. Can you and Hopkins stay just as quiet and still as two little mice until I get back?'

Zoey nodded, looking at her knees.

Bear rested one of his hands on her head for a moment. It was rough and heavy, but also warm, and she felt safe for a very small moment. Then he took off his jacket and tucked it carefully over her head, and Zoey was left alone in the dark.

***

The air in her tiny boat smelled like burnt caramel and sick cats. In the dark, her finger found a hole in the padded seat beneath her, and she started picking out the fluff. Her other hand was pressed between her legs so that she wouldn't have an accident. She really had to go potty. Uncle Bear had been gone a long time. She'd heard the front door creak open, and his heavy footsteps on the wooden floors inside. A little while ago there'd been a loud scraping followed by a bang, as if something really big had been pushed over, but she hadn't heard anything since then. Just someone laughing and gasping a few streets away.

She started to fidget, bouncing her knees up and down, and humming quietly to herself to keep her mind off the laughter, and the stinging pain that was growing just below her tummy. She hummed twinkle twinkle little star, then the itchy bitsy spider, and she was just about to ask Hopkins what to sing next when she heard something else. A noise from very close by.

It started with a sprinkling of glass. Then the creak of a car door. The creak became a metallic groan, and she heard more glass raining down as the jammed door was slowly forced open. There was a deep thud, crunching, scraping as someone fell into the road, and started dragging themselves across the street towards her. Zoey held her breath and squeezed her legs together as tightly as she could. She could hear the person gasping and grunting now.

In the darkness her mind showed her the laughing man pressed against the fence. It showed her her mother. Her lips, normally so full and bright red, were gone, chewed away, leaving only her chattering teeth. Zoey stuck out her tongue and pinched it hard, a trick she'd taught herself when she was trying not to cry. Her hiding place shook, and something squeaked like wet hands on a bathtub. The sound was right on top of her as the person coughed and spat into the grass several times.

Keys jingled, fell to the ground. There was more gasping and coughing before she heard the key finally slide home. The bike choked once, twice, then rumbled to life. Zoey pulled the jacket tight over her head, and squeezed Hopkins hard. A warm, wet patch spread down her legs. Then they bumped down the curb, and swerved into the street.

Thanks for reading Zoey! Just a short chapter this time, but there's plenty more to come. If you're enjoying it, please take a second to click the star to vote. Remember, you can vote once on each chapter, and every vote or comment you leave helps more people discover Zoey, and she needs all the help she can get :)