Tooth and Nail (Draft In Progress - Book One)

Chapter 8 - Said The Lady

Morning of Day 4

 Outside Haven, there was a war of sorts. Of the original 28 people who lived on Jezebel's block, only one original resident remained - Jezebel herself. Everyone else had hit the road, or died trying. Not one neighbor had bothered to knock on the door they knew she would be alone behind. I guess when apocalypses start, Jezebel thought, People forget to be humane, and just focus on being human. It almost made her laugh, thinking that the people who had surrounded her growing up on this block in the Bubble had probably forgotten her existence in their mad dash to hit the highway for somewhere else. Most likely trying to get out of Texas, not expecting the plague they ran from to reach Texarkana. Maybe they didn't expect they would make it either.

But despite the quiet, inside of Haven was no Garden of Eden either.

Haven was near-silent. The walls didn't creak, the ceiling didn't settle with shifting sounds, the floor didn't squeak when you stepped on it, and no doors made the whining sounds the residents so despised. In fact, no one was making any noise at all, but silence does not mean peace. Avery was curled up in a ball on the floor of the guest room closet, buried behind Jezebel's mother's giftwrapping supplies, snoring the way a lion growls. She had had a bad dream and decided the large, square, walk-in closet was better than looking for someone to talk to in the middle of the night. Drew was on the game room floor in the second story of the house, Jezebel and Allen were side by side in her bed, and Tamerlyn was finally deeply asleep. She had stayed up all night sending out morse code SOS, and asking for news about the Catastrophe. She had heard law enforcement using the term on the scanner, and decided she would use it too, perhaps to sound more professional, more likely to receive help if she seemed mature and not underinformed and a waste of resources to save.

It was nearing noon when noises had begun to come through more frequently on the CB as those alive rose from the night and started the process of again relaying tales from the new world, or as they called it, Zarth. Maybe it was clever to someone, but Tamerlyn found it childish and cheesy. However, her opinion didn't matter because all of those 6'2" and 240 truckers thought it was smart as hell and it had become the lingo since that brilliant Hell broke loose on a college campus.

Tamerlyn again made breakfast, Allen and Jezebel eventually emerged, and Drew and Avery came after to finish the remaining cereal left on the countertop. But after the entire fifteen minutes that took, everyone converged into the living room, sat down on the fading khaki leather sectional, and sat in silence until they all went their separate ways for the evening.

Jezebel to her room to go through her clothes and reorganize her drawers.

Allen to the bathroom to sit on the plush red rug and hold his head together with his hands while his mind tore itself apart at every seam, hunting for a reason to keep living.

Avery and Drew sat upstairs in the only other second-floor room, the "playroom", and cleaned the space up for use, since obviously Jezebel's parents wouldn't be throwing anymore block parties, requiring their daughter to babysit the neighbor kids.

And Tamerlyn went to Connor's room, which she had already set up for her own use, to sit on his bed and listen to Zarth speak.

Listen to the crackle of the static and road noise when the button is accidentally pushed. The swearing and tire squealing and gravel hitting the windshield of some lucky punk driver as he escapes the melting utopia of what was at one time a thriving metropolis, growing 162 people every day.

No more would the traffic slow on South Congress, or Home Slice pizza have to hire extra people to work crowd control at lunch hour. Sixth Street would run dry, Aaron's Rock and Roll store wouldn't have a dedicated living fanbase anymore, and the magician on fifth avenue would be forced to disappear one more time from the stage, and never come back, if he valued his life.