Breathe

Chapter 46 - Just Me and My Mom

 A shot was heard. And like the multitude of others, it echoed throughout the room, penetrating the atmosphere. For a second, nothing moved. For a second, nothing breathed. All I could hear was the echo of the bullet and the beating of my heart as it beat faster and faster and faster.

Did I do it?

Finally, a body dropped. Then, another cry was heard. It wasn't the same as last time's. This time, it was a woman: Evangeline. But she hadn't been shot. Instead, her dagger had been shot across the room—far out of her reach.

Rushing over, I immediately pushed her onto the group and pinned her down. Her gun was in her hands and quickly, I pushed it out of it. And then, for the first time, I got a good look at my mom.

She had pale, tangled locks that stretched on the floor like a spider web. Her sickly pink eyes were clouded, dull, and lacked any shine. Her body was skeletal, bone-like—it was as though she hadn't eaten in days. It was as though even if she wanted to fight against me, she couldn't. Not in her shape.

And there was no way that I could fight her, anyway. Underneath, I knew who was inside: Katherine. Somewhere, somewhere deep in her heart or soul or whatever the hell she is, she's in there. She's in this lanky, deteriorating body.

Suddenly, she began to laugh. "What? Are you not going to finish me?" I stayed silent. Instead, I kept my eyes locked on her dulling ones. There was something wrong—something perfectly wrong. Even though I had her pinned, Katherine wasn't coming out. She wasn't talking. Something must be happening.

"Where's Katherine?" I asked.

"Katherine? That is the first thing that you ask me?"

"That's the only thing that matters."

"Oh?" she asked, eyebrows raising. "What about the X.Q. gas? You waste your first question on Katherine's whereabouts?"

Growling, I repeated, "Where's Katherine?"

She sighed. "She is here. She is listening. Although you cannot hear her, she is screaming about how much she would like to speak with you."

"Do you honestly believe that I would believe that bullshit?"

"Good God, what kind of mother raised you?" Sighing, she responded, "Then again, I'm sure anyone would remark in that manner if they were told that their beloved was screaming inside someone else's head, desperate to talk to them. But really, you should believe me, Wynn." Smiling a little, she added, "I am your mother, after all."

Behind, I could hear Phillip murmur, "...Mother?"

I scoffed. "You may have given birth to me, but you're no mother. You can claim that title, but it's not yours."

"Do you think that I do not already know that?" she asked with a laugh. Looking away, with tired eyes, she murmured, "I knew that as soon as you were born." Looking me dead in the eyes, she added, "Do not rub salt into that wound."

"I want to talk to Katherine," I repeated, "let me talk to Katherine."

Once more, she sighed. "You really want to talk to her, huh? At least let us finish our business first."

"Business?"

"We have business. Business in the shelter—the room to the right of the balcony. If you take me there, then we can start, which means that you'll be able to talk to your beloved Katherine soon."

I glanced at Phil as though I was asking him, "Should we do it?"

He looked at the ceiling for a moment. Finally, he nodded his head. Spinning her around, I got a firm hold of her hands and wrung it behind her. Then, I walked her over and up the stairs until we reached the room to the right of the balcony. Immediately, the chandeliers lit, bringing light to the room. If only it had stayed dark.

Before me, in the center of the room, there was a pile of bodies. But it wasn't a small pile. No, it spanned high above the ground, it almost reached the ceilings. There was a stench in the room. Enough to clog your nostrils. I felt something roll in my throat. My water and nose began to burn. Suddenly, I realized that wasn't the only thing in the room. In front, there was a machine exuding green gas. My eyes widened.

It was the X.Q. gas.

It was exuding more gas than I've ever seen. Even the amount in the hospital was nothing compared to this. Looking back, I noticed that the shadow outside that had shielded her wasn't a shadow at all: it was the gas. Then, looking at Phil, I figured out the reason for Evangeline's deteriorating body. The gas was pouring out at such a large quantity that the symptoms were hastening, maybe at 6x the time. And Phil...he was already suffering. His hair was greying, his skin was getting paler and paler by the second. And his posture...it was falling.

Frantically, I yelled, "Phillip, get out of here!"

He shook his head. He fervently shook his head.

"Get out of here!"

"No!" he screamed. Looking up at me, he cried, "I'm not... I'm not leaving here without you, Al. If you're going down, I'm going down!"

"You better listen to him, boy," Evangeline stated, turning her head to him. "Unlike Wynn, you do not have the antibodies to withstand this gas." Turning back around, she added, "If you stay in here, you will soon end up like the rest of them."

The pile of bodies seemingly groaned.

Laughing softly, she said, "You would not want that, would you?"

"Antibodies...?" he whispered.

Choosing to trust her, I yelled at him once more: "Leave, Phillip! Don't question her—just...leave!" Trying my best to halt the quivering of my voice, I murmured, "I'll be fine. Just...leave for now. I need to talk to my mom."

"O-Okay," he accepted. "I'll leave."

Then, quietly, he left the room. Finally, it was just me and my mom and a pile of dying people.