When The Light Goes Out (40 page)

Unfortunately, the sobbing grew louder after that. But my hand
was
grabbed. The grabbing felt kind of desperate, and the hands felt weird. Small. My brother had bigger hands than me, he always had. It had something to do with him being older, and eating his vegetables. The face that pushed up close to my neck was too small to be my brothers as well, and

I was beginning to get kind of worried. Someone other than my brother was crying for me, and he was very small. Like a little kid. Like a
little,
little kid. Unless I'd gotten bigger somehow.

Where was I?

I managed to crack one eye open, and laying right before my face were a bunch of bloodied surgical instruments. A scalpel. A suture. Tweezers. I felt sick to my stomach, but didn't have enough in me to throw up, so I just started shaking a bit, glancing down to see exactly what was hugging onto me. A small boy. He couldn't have been any older than ten, and as I pulled him closer to me, with all my strength, everything seemed to come flooding back.

My dead brother.

My dead classmates, and friends.

My new friends. My hurt friends.

The blood, lots of blood. Lots of
coagulated
blood. The Rvirus.

Zombies.

His name was George, the little boy pressed up to me. We'd found him wounded in the clinic, and he wouldn't tell us what wounded him. He'd been extremely hurt, and extremely scared, and now he was pressing himself to me for dear life. I didn't understand it, but I wrapped an arm around him as securely as I could. Whispering things in a hoarse voice that didn't want to cooperate. I was trying to calm him down, and after a couple of moments it actually seemed to be working.

"What's wrong?" I managed to ask once his breathing was calm again, and he'd stopped shaking quite so violently, but I had to ask a second time before I got an answer from him. "I'm scared."

"I'm scared too, George." "No. You don't get it. They" "Who?"

"That group that brought Dustin, and the kid back in." "She's not that much younger than you."

"I'm twelve."

"You are
not
twelve."

"I'm twelve. They've just messed me up so bad" "They?"

"The people who brought Dustin and the kid back."

"They" I swear the room started spinning at ludicrous speed right then, so I was forced to lay my head back down. "They're the ones who..?" and I barely ghosted my hand over the boys stomach, because I couldn't say it. When he started sobbing, I hugged him tightly and tried to shush him, because I needed to get the story out of him. "Are you sure it was them?"

"I think."

"So you're not sure?"

"I was sedated most of the time. When they left there was no one there to keep me on the drugs, so I was able to get to you guys." "Good thing you did, or you would've been left, and eaten."

"They scare me."

"You're probably going to be scared of doctors forever, because of what was done to you George. And I don't blame you. I'd be terrified as well. Absolutely terrified. But you can't go around saying bad things about people that aren't true. I'll ask them to get out of their lab coats if that'll make you feel better. Will that make you feel better?"

"A little."

"Good. So when they come back in here, I'll ask." "Okay."

"Now, why don't you get some sleep. You can stay right here next to me, okay? I won't let any bad doctors get you." "Okay."

It wasn't that long before the boys breathing evened out, and I figured he'd been absolutely exhausted. I wasn't though, however in great pain, and needed something to occupy myself with. I moved my arm from the boy, and tried to find my notebook. I searched my pockets as best I could, but it was useless, because the thing wasn't there, and I almost cursed. Until I saw it lying on the floor a little bits away from my head.

Going through it I noticed that someone took Dustin and Pixie off of my missing list. Someone had read my journal.

I tried to push the thought aside as I started writing, wincing at how sloppy it looked. I wrote about how for a minute I'd been able to imagine that none of this was real. That my brother was all alive, and the zombie invasion was just a dream because he was okay. One sedative or another, whatever the old man had pumped into my ass, allowed me to think so. And I was almost grateful. I certainly wanted another dose of whatever the hell the thing was, because the pain in my back was growing, and spreading, and becoming a tad overwhelming.

"Hey!" I tried to call out, but not wake the boy next to me up. "Hey! Is
anyone
out there?" "Excel?"

"Jeremy."

"Hey, you're okay. And you got the kid to go to sleep."

"The lab coats that the new group was wearing scared him. Some doctors messed with him you know, his stomach and he's kind of scared of them now." "I'll pass on the message."

"We got some water? And something to dull this throbbing pain I have?" "I don't know. I'll go ask."

"Please do, Jeremy. And come back quick, I need to be distracted by something." "Alright."

I was quite glad that Jeremy wasn't gone for too long, because maybe five minute later, he came back in with two of the people from the new group. Serena and Luke, I assumed it was. At the very least I
thought
it was Luke. Was he the one with the blond hair? I couldn't remember. I decided I'd ask, because I'd just been heavily drugged for God knows how long, they couldn't possibly expect my brain to be functioning properly.

"So," looking dead at the boy again. "Which one are you?" "Jared."

"I thought you were Luke."

"Luke's the one with the brownishredishstupid hair that doesn't do what he says." "If you say so. Got anything to kill the pain?"

"Can you swallow pills?" "Dry, if I have to."

"We have water, don't worry."

Moments later I was drinking down two Advil, and simply couldn't wait for the pain to go away. Distantly, I heard something about, "It might make you drowsy, because of the sedative you were given before." But I didn't care. Because the peaceful oblivion was exactly what I wanted. No pain. Nothing. Nothing at all, and I just laid there until there was nothing but the pictures my brain created. The fact that I remembered fine details of the dream when I awoke told me exactly how powerful it had been.

It had been a dream about a beautiful young man, with short brown hair, and sparkling brown eyes that looked a surprising bit like Malachi in my mind. but he
wasn't
Malachi, this I

could be sure of. I didn't know who he was, or what he was doing most of the time, except he seemed very smart. Intelligent. And loved. He seemed to have many friends, including the people who were with my group in reality. The strange ones. He was in a well lit room, working on one thing or another when he suddenly screamed.

I woke up with a start, my eyes flying open, but I didn't move much further than that. My entire body felt stiff. And there was whispering.

I tried to listen.

"But I miss him, Jared."

"I know. I know. I miss him too, 'Rena. He didn't deserve to die."

"No he didn't. He didn't deserve it at all. And he's never coming back." "I know, I know. Shush. Don't cry."

"I don't want to live without Criss."

There was some shifting of material, and quiet sobbing a moment later. I took that moment to make myself noticed, groaning a bit as I shifted in my spot. I could easily say that I woke up because of the girls crying. I could claim I hadn't been listening. But now I had a bit of blackmail, so to speak. I knew about this.. Criss person. Whoever he was. I didn't know. I didn't care much, but I could, and would use it against the smug girl mercilessly if I had to.

"Ev'rythin' ok'y?" my speech was slurred, and I shook my head to get my mind back into some semblance of working order. "Why's she cryin'?" "Bad memories is all. Don't worry, Excel."

"Mmhmm. Okay." And I decided to more or less 'play along' and
not worry
. Of course I wasn't going to worry. Everyone lost someone the past few days, since the zombies invaded

I figured. This girl was absolutely nothing special. So she lost someone named Criss. I lost my brother. Lila lost a fiancé. Pixie lost a boy named Louie. Everyone lost Cathy. It was nothing new to me. "Where's everyone else? Where's George?"

"In the other room. They wanted to let you rest." "Can I see them?"

"Can you move?" "I dunno."

"Let me help."

Jared was extremely gentle with the way he helped me to my feet. He was even patient enough to help me hobble to the other room, where everyone there was willing to help me get used to walking again. It was Malachi who finally helped me to the bathroom when I needed to go. It was truly the perfect opportunity to press him for information on the new comers, so I decided to.

"Malachi?" "Excel?"

"Stop that. I've got a question." "I've got an answer."

"Shut
up.
Don't do this now, I'm too weak to fight back." "Oops."

"Hardyharhar."

"So ask the question already."

"You seemed nervous when.. Luke?.. was patting your shoulder earlier." "That's not a question. It's an observation."

"Why did you seem nervous?" "No reason."

"Malachi.."

"It's nothing, really. Here's the bathroom. I really,
really
, hope you don't need help in there."

"I don't. But you better be out here when I get out." "I will be."

Rather embarrassed by the fact that the boy was listening to me, I decided to talk to him while he was on the opposite side of the door. Maybe, since I was on the can, he'd lower his guard just an teensy bit. I started with, "Malachi, I don't really trust them."

"Why? They saved Dustin, and Pixie"

"And you. But that doesn't change the fact that I don't trust them." "Why don't you trust them?"

"I don't know for sure. It's just something, and even you seem nervous about them. You said that they said this whole zombie thing may have been their fault, and there's no denying the fact that it might be. We really don't know where this virus originated from."

"So?"

"What if they did it on purpose?"

"Get real, Excel. Why the hell would they do it on purpose?"

"Why does anyone do anything on purpose? Maybe they did it just because they wanted to. Really now, asking that is like.. like asking a psychokiller, why he kills. There's no real reason. He does it because he does it, and that's that. But, maybe they had some reason. Some hidden agenda that nobody knows yet."

"Like what?"

"Maybe they really
were
trying to make a steroid, like it said on the news." "But the news said the government did it."

"Maybe the news was half wrong." "Maybe they were right."

"I'm
not
saying these friends of yours" "They are
not
my friends."

"Ooh, testy." "Shut up, Excel."

"Why aren't they your friends?" "Because they're not." "
Malachi
.."

"Can I come in?" "What?"

"I can't explain it out here, okay?"

"Sure, I'm done, anyway." And I flushed right as the door was opening, and the man was coming in. He had an expression on his face that made me extremely,
extremely
nervous about what he was about to tell me. Like it was something I needed to carry to my grave. "You okay, Malachi?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't trust them either."

The confession made my stomach knot immediately. Because Malachi was a very smart boy, and if he didn't trust someone then I figured something was up. He didn't strike me as nearly as paranoid as he could have been. Especially considering the situation, but now he was leaning all his weight against the door like something was about to barrel through.

"Why not?"

"When I first woke up in the clinic, after they'd saved me from a group of zombies, they wouldn't let me leave." "What?"

"They wouldn't let me leave."

"They were probably just trying to keep you alive Malachi." "See, now
you're
scared, and trying to protect them, Excel." "No, I'm not!"