I rapidly change from my pyjamas to my clothing and so does Riley. We run down the stairs and skid to a stop in the kitchen. My mom is packing away enough food for an army and my father is getting all the essentials (flashlights, pocketknife, etcetera...).
"We can't just pack up and leave, it's too soon!" I exclaim.
"Sweetheart, people are going to start breaking into our house soon. I know it's a little rushed but we're going to get the friggin' hell out of here!" she says.
My pulse begins to quicken and I force myself not to panic.
"How can I help?" I want to know .
"Go get all my hunting guns for the garage and all of my bullets. Put everything in this duffel bag," he instructs as he holds out a khaki bag.
I grab it and start to make my way to the garage.
"Oh, sweetie," my mom calls out, "ignore the banging on the garage door."
I turn a sickly pale white.
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I enter the garage with Riley and I start to fill up the bag with all the things we need.
"Aren't you at all worried about your family," I ask him as I stretch my arm out for the AK-47.
"Foster family," he corrects me, "and no, they're pure evil."
There's a thrash against the garage door which makes me jump sky-high. I grab Riley and the bag and bolt for the house. I run to the kitchen and set the bag down.
"Let's go," my dad says as we make our way to the minivan.
We all hop in and buckle up.
"Don't look out the window if you guys get queasy easily," my mother tells us.
The garage door flies open and we race out of the garage. Riley reaches for my hand and squeezes it as we go speeding down the road. Theres a loud thud on the hood of the car and we all look up to see a person banging on the window of the car. My dad begins to swerve along the road and manages to throw the person off the car.
"Why didn't you stop and help them?!" I ask in a baffled tone.
"Because they're infected," he says.
It's absolute chaos along our street. People run in and out of houses and police men run away from numerous people. How odd, the authorities running away... I realize what my dad meant. A man, a dead looking man, bites down on a young woman, the chunk of flesh peeling off of her like when you pull apart gum tack and it's all stringy. Blood gushes like a waterfall from her new wound and my stomach forces me to look away.
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After a few miles of driving in silence I finally can't take it anymore.
"Where are we going?" I ask.
"To the old cottage on the farmlands. It's fairly new since we renovated last year and there is a greenhouse there," my mother explains.
"What about everyone we know mom?" I ask as though I'm five again and I suddenly become fidgety in my chair.
"Well, Mia is going to meet us there with her boyfriend Tom and her mom. My friend and her son are coming from Chicago to stay with us also," she tells me.
I look out the window and study the farmland and the occasional ghost town which I want to draw with the mark of my pencil. I take out my notepad and my 'creative stick' as my
Mom calls it. I attempt conjuring up something to draw and by the time I'm finished I notice where my imagination has taken me. A crowd of dead people, or zombies, claw and the windows of an old doll-like house.
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We get to the house and unload everything from the vehicle. Tall, straw textured grass stands around the delicate house and the sun beats down on the roof. I grab a few bags and lug them inside, dropping them in the hallway. Our neighbours use to live in the old barn house down the road but now it sits there like a haunting reminder of childhood memories.
"Home sweet home," Riley jokes.
"For now, it's the closest thing we have," I make him realize.
I lean against an ancient drawer set and here my parents shouting questions at each other outside.
"I know," he tells me as he kisses my forehead, "but think of it this way."
He proposes, "it's all happening for a reason."
"Yes but this time I don't want to know the cause," I tell him as I place my hand on his bicep.
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Target practice. Three words. Tiring, time-consuming, and slow. Riley once again aims at the target and misses by a hair. I grab a gun in annoyance and shoot right through the metal can. He stands back in astonishment.
"Where did you learn to use that?" he asks in a bewildered tone as he stands up straighter in an attempt to look more masculine.
"I'm a cops daughter. It's obligatory," I say.
"How come I don't know of this talent?" Riley asks as he edges towards me.
"Cause if you knew I could shoot a gun, you would have been running for the hills when we first met," I explain.
"Well I ,for one, think its extremely sexy," he tells me and I laugh a bit.
He picks me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. I slide the pistol under his belt. He kisses me slowly then more passionately and it feels so right. Butterflies start to flutter in my stomach like its the first time we've ever kissed.
"Ahem," I hear someone clear their throat.
I look over Riley's shoulder and see my dad watching us. Riley sets me down on the floor.
"We were just target practicing sir," Riley tries to reassure him.
"Keep practicing or you'll become a target!" my father threatens Riley.
Riley's Adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows hard.
"Your dad scares me," Riley admits when my dad is out of earshot.
"Ya, he frightens many people," I tell him with a laugh.
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That night I can't sleep so I climb onto the rooftop garden and sit in the multicoloured hammock that was specially placed there for me when I was younger. I gaze up at the stars and try to identify the constellations.
"May I join you?" my mother asks.
She slightly startles me. I nod my head and she shimmies her way into the hammock beside me.
"So, what are we supposed to do?" I inquire.
"Nothing," my mother tells me.
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"We make the most of it," she says, "we live each day like its our last and we make decisions as though we're immortal. That's what being human is and we must never lose our humanity."
I nod in agreement and my mother wraps me into a tight embrace.
"I love you so much," I tell her.
"I love you too," she says.
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The image I uploaded is the cottage
YOU ARE READING
Infectious
Teen FictionLove, an apocalypse, and survival. Three things that should not be combined in a sixteen-year-old's life. Raine was a girl with a picture perfect life. That was until the virus broke out. A tale of sacrifice, secrecy, and the hunt for a cure.
