It was a summer of love at Little Brook, a quiet village full of normal people, a town where nothing bad happens. But it is different tonight for Jack as his boyfriend Michael had just disappeared at the stroke of midnight.
From bad to worse, a zom...
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One month after the Outbreak.
Thirty days before Jack's arrival.
Huzz-huzz-huzz-huzz.
Cicadas chirped from a mulberry tree. The beat of their wings echoed through the barricaded windows of the neonatal unit. The moonshine illuminated some beds that had replaced the infant machines. Only one was not empty, the closest to the outside. A raven-haired boy laid in it. He gazed at the sea of stars with cloudy eyes.
Loud footfalls got closer as a brawny figure appeared by the doorway. The air of Kiss an Angel Good Mornin' came out of his lips.
"Well, isn't that our little Jerry mouse?" a deep husky voice mused. "They said you haven't said one word since you fell here."
Michael kept on looking at the sky. The man chuckled and trundled toward the window. The lunar beacon glinted on a bottle of whisky in his left hand.
"A good thing you're mute." He took a sip. "They can say they won't tell, but humans are weak." He sneered. "So easy to turn around... Want some?"
He lifted his whisky toward Michael. The young man responded with a quick head shake.
A smirk grew on the man's face. "Pretty and quiet..." He stirred the beverage. "Were you a woman, you'd made any man happy."
He took another draught as Michael furrowed his brows.
"You can never trust..." He hardened his tone, "You can never trust someone unless you control them... They all say a lot of words, that they care, that it's for the best..." He huffed. "A bunch of lies."
"You're right," muttered Michael.
Ksh!
The bottle of whisky shattered on the floor. David stared at Michael with wide eyes.
"You- You can talk?" he questioned.
Michael glanced down. "Sorry."
David smiled, then he burst into a laugh. "Ha! I couldn't even trust you." He leaned his back against the wall. "So tell me, what's your story? A party gone wrong? Separated from your family?"
The dove-skinned boy looked away. "Don't have a story... Even if I had one, it's not worth telling."
David's lips curved from ear to ear. "Interesting..." He straightened his posture. "Fascinating." His large body wandered toward the exit. "The name's David."
"Michael," the angel replied.
The tall man stopped in his tracks. "Michael?" he almost chanted the letters as he bent back his head. "The devil, or God?"
