To Make Amends

After the apocalypse, a young woman tries to avenge the wrong she did her sister.

Amanda’s hand clutches my wrist. I refuse to look at her pitying expression.

‘Come with us,’ she pleads, her voice weak from repeating itself. ‘Snow will be setting in soon and the havens need more women.’

‘I have someone to find,’ I remind her, pulling my wrist away. ‘You lot go ahead.’

Yanking the door open, I stride into the night. Metal shutters clang. Everything is in need of repair. Glass is broken and bricks are crumbling, doors lay on their splintered sides. St. Paul is a mess and the few still here are ready to flee. A syringe lies in the gutter. I spit at it. I hope the doctor is in a cell somewhere, laughing her head off for the rest of her unnaturally long life. Cackling bounces off the walls and my fingers skim the guns strapped to my legs. I watch each body carefully, even Old Joe, the homeless man who has been rotting away against the community centre wall for the past eight months.

Taking a new route, I check abandoned cars and houses for anything useable. What’s left of a man lies next to a can of green beans, his wasted fingers clutched around a hunting rifle. Holding my breath, I scour through a police car. A few more cartridges of ammo for my dwindling stock. Another pistol.

I stop at the entrance to an apartment complex. Down a long drive, past dumpsters and bones, is laughter. Dashing inside, I move from wall to wall. In deep shadow, I press my back against the bricks. Mad babbling echoes around the corner. Fingers check the cartridges in my pockets then hover above my pistols. Hooked fingers slide them from their holsters and curl around the handles. She’ll be here tonight. Tonight I’ll find her. The babbling bursts into high, shrieking giggles, cuts off. Fast, urgent whispers. Easing around the corner, I glance back up the drive. Shattered glass, a couple of fire escapes and fourteen mad. Some cry. Others laugh. A couple scream at each other, swiping and scratching their faces and arms. A child is smiling at a wall. She leans closer, giggles, slams forward. Her head cracks against the bricks. Blood streams down her cheeks. Still giggling, she snaps forward again. And again. And again. 

I stare at the sky. How many stars tonight, Cathy? One. Two. I adjust my grip on the guns. Five. Six. My heart rushes. Nine. Ten. I spin around the corner, aim and fire, right hand, then left. The child. The couple fighting. The whisperer. One after the other they drop. Something grabs my shoulder. Without hesitation, I elbow them in the gut and fire into their skulls. Blood and matter and bits of fragmented bone. I drag the back of my hand across my mouth and spit onto the road. Reloading, I wait. More are swarming toward me, joining their kind on the darkened streets. The click of the cartridge slotting into place makes me breathe easier. Little sister, where are you? After six years of looking, I won’t fail you again.

Whirling, I crack my elbow across one’s face. He stumbles and trips. Another crumples when my knee connects low. How normal they would look without that moon madness in their eyes. A bullet into the shoulder of a third. The shoulder? Really? I fire again. Better. I shoot another, dodge a punch, smash the butt of my gun against her head. Turning on my heel, I take down three more. An empty click.

Shuffling backward, I reload and begin again. Bullet, punch, bodies keep dropping. They’ll slip between my bullets and their teeth will find my flesh. Guns in their holsters, I sprint. Planting one foot on a trash can, I launch myself into the air. My hands clamp around the cold edge of a fire escape and paint flakes off as I haul myself up. Heart racing, I climb, footfalls ringing on the metal stairs. My skin is flushed and my breath is short. I won’t give up. I will make things right for her.

I reach the roof. Two dive at me and I dispatch one while the other throws himself to the side. Stumbling back, I see his claws flash past my face and I fall onto my back, getting my legs between us. Snarling, swiping, he strains to hit me. With a kick, I throw him up over the edge of the building. Panting, I stare at the stars. I’m tired of this. Why haven’t I found her yet? My whole reason for everything. 

I push myself to my feet. Something is lurking across the roof. Watching me. Mirroring me. A grin baring bloody teeth. My hands come up, guns aim, fingers twitch. I stop before I pull the trigger. Pale brown hair. Light brown eyes. Pink lips curl in a familiar smile.

‘Hello Jen,’ she speaks and my aim wavers. ‘Haven’t seen you in a while.’

‘Hello,’ I choke back, holding in a flood of tears.

She slides closer, my eyes meet with hers.  I remember them smiling. I remember them wrinkling at the edges, tearing up in fits of laughter. I remember them wide with shock and pain. Our mother’s hands ripped from ours. Her pleas for us to keep going. Teeth in Catherine’s skin. It was those eyes I looked into as I held a knife above her heart and failed her.

My guns waver.

‘Do you still count the stars?’ Catherine whispers. A giggle bursts out. She looks around, sharing the joke with invisible friends. ‘Do. You. Count?’

She laughs again. Stops. Glares at me. A smirk slithers across her face. Raising her arms, she stretches them up toward the sky. I have to do it. I won’t let her go again. I won’t let her live like this.

‘Oh, I bet you do,’ she hums. She runs, straight for me. ‘I bet you do.’

‘I’m sorry, Cathy,’ I whisper, tears blinding me. Pull the triggers. Bang. The sound cracks the night and rings in my ears. A split second when I hope I’ve missed, another when I know I’ve hit.

Quivering, I drop the guns and push them away. Kick them farther. A sob, a howl wrenches free. My legs give in and I curl over, forehead pressed against the ground and I cry. I had to. Of course I had to. She wanted me to. She cried when she felt the virus in her. She didn’t want to laugh.

She’s gone, there’s no more reason to be out here. Who would notice if I stopped, if I went to the haven with Amanda and - I couldn’t do anything. There was no reason to anymore. I fixed it. I saved her. There’s nothing left to do. I don’t have to be here. My lips strain in a relieved smile. I force myself up, feet dragging across the concrete, stumbling onto the lip of the roof. Below are hungry faces. Screaming, laughing, calling to me. My tears bleed their faces together. One, large breath calms my trembling. It’s over. I step forward into empty air.