Authors: Laira Evans
Strange.
That's the first thing they think when they see me. It's always
just small things, at first. I notice it when I enter a room, the
discomfort that even perfect strangers feel in my presence. The
subtle tensing of their shoulders, the half-clenched jaws and nervous
ticks from tapping fingers to clicking pens or a sudden clearing of
the throat. They don't know why, not immediately. They'll turn
around slowly, fearfully, searching for the seven foot man with
knives between each finger or the zombie in the dark. Then they'll
see me. I don't meet their eyes anymore. No matter how many times I
stare into the mirror I can never find it, that mark that makes me so
very different from everyone else. But I know it's there.
Shortly after I discovered
this underground city I started wearing a hooded sweatshirt, purple
and pink and electric blue across the back. I still haven't grown
into it, its faded and worn sleeves brushing at my knuckles as I
hugged Holly to my chest. I was still optimistic then, now I'm only
hopeful. No matter how many times Alfonse offers me a new one I
refuse, because I know it would be smaller than the one I'm wearing.
It would feel too much like giving up. I've given up on too many
things already.
“
Beans?”
“
Yes please,” I
said, holding up my tray with eyes averted. This man was nicer than
others I had met. I trust him not to pour any on my hands, or to
scant my portion. I backed away quickly. If I didn't spend too much
time around him maybe he would stay nice a little while longer.
I left the cafeteria, weaving
between those who refused to allow me easy passage until at last I
reached the tunnel. Behind me was the cavern, massive and full of
tents and the occasional permanent structure built since the
Outbreak. Ahead there was only one dwelling. Few had the nerve to
enter the tunnel at night, to walk past the oil slicks that were the
last line of defense and through the winding tunnel that carried
echos of footsteps until it seemed like an army of undead dogged you.
And there, at the end, stood the shack that was our home. Beyond
that was only the fire, and the night.
I sat down on a granite
outcropping, not far from the fires. Alfonse would be out to tend
them soon, half mad though he was from staring too long into the
night, but for now we were alone. I stretched my back against a
boulder after taking Holly out of the baby carrier, working out the
kinks in my spine. She was definitely getting bigger, unlike me.
Soon she'd be making her own way to Cavern Town. I was just glad she
could mostly get by on solid foods now.
As I fed her the beans I
tried to point out how many were in each spoonful. I wasn't sure she
understood any of it yet but it was as much for me as for her. I
understood most of the concepts of addition and subtraction still,
but the words continue to slip away when I needed them most. I was
getting better though. I was sick, but I was getting better. I had
to believe that.
Zombies teemed outside the
fires, down below the ten foot drop that was our only other defense
against invasion. During the day they would retreat to their own
dark holes, as only rotters could stand the presence of the sun and
few of those ever reached the valley through the high passes. For
now though, the horde simply waited with gnashing teeth and howls of
hunger, ever hopeful that the fires would fade.
I was better, wasn't I? In
here among other humans, rather than out there with the ferals?
Humans that hated me, despised me, feared me... But, at least there
was Holly, the innocent babe that had called me back from the
darkness. I was Julie now, not Angela. This was a new chance at
life.
I
took a bite of canned pear, grimacing at the aftertaste. There were
times, however, where I wondered if staying with them would have been
so very terrible.
It
was day. I stayed motionless, hardly aware of the passing time as
light from the bathroom window stretched across the floor. My jaw
felt loose, and with a faint glimmer of hope lighting within me I
freed a hand from my cocoon. “Normal.” My teeth felt
normal, small and dull. I tested each one in turn, just to be
careful. My incisors, while still suspiciously pointed, were at
least no longer sharp enough to cut skin with a touch. The sunlight
no longer blinded me, and it was as if my claws had never been there
at all. If only my memory of the previous night could be the same
way, dissolving into nothingness.
A
bitter chuckle rasped my throat. All those years wishing my memories
would come back, that I could remember my real family, and now I was
wishing it all away. As depressing as the dream had been, it had
hinted at things still darker. How much was real, how much dark
fantasy and groundless nightmare? “Angela,” I whispered.
The name did not sound as strange or foreign to me as I hoped. If I
had really held Holly as a baby, how old did that make me? I had
trouble enough acting nineteen, it was impossible I was in my
twenties. '
But you've seen a lot of impossible things
lately, haven't you,'
I thought
to myself.
It
wasn't the only mystery confronting me. Who or what was it that had
dragged Jake from the car? Was it Chains? Or was it in fact another
killer, another monster, the secret source of all the disappearances.
I wish I could believe it was just bad luck that had led to the
events of last night, but it would be terribly foolish to assume it
was pure coincidence. I could very well be next on their list.
Well, there was a way to solve at least one of these mysteries. The
mystery woman, Penny. Was it just a guess that had led me to name
her that? No, it was more. My intuition told me she was the key to
finding out what lay behind my amnesia.
Path
at last decided I summoned up the energy to untangle myself from the
blankets. I washed my face before anything, taking off the mask of
makeup I used to look like something approaching my age. My eyes had
returned to normal, though the iris retained a purple tint. I might
have liked the change, if not for what it signified.
Clothes
came next, a pink T-shirt I should have thrown away years ago and a
pair of slender blue jeans. A pair of flip-flops completed the look,
the only footwear I had without a significant heel. Spinning in
front of the mirror, I couldn't have looked any more different from
myself – or at least the “self” I'd cultivated for
the past few years. Everyone in my class had started growing up
practically overnight six years ago and after I'd realized I wasn't
going to pull it off naturally I did my best to fake my way through
it. But today, for the first time in years, I didn't have to wear a
mask.
I
left the apartment with a newly refreshed heart and my last thirty
credits. I felt oddly free. Tomorrow I'd be broke, and likely
without a home to return to after my prints were identified. But in
this moment, I was without worry or care. How strange it was to walk
unfettered and unstilted, my posture relaxed, walking however fast or
slow I pleased. Even my face felt different as I stopped trying to
make it look thinner by pulling in my cheeks. Perhaps this was why I
hadn't thrown away the T-shirt, a lingering desire to play at being a
child once more, even if it were only for a little while. I smiled,
full and uninhibited. For the life of me I couldn't recall the last
time I had done so.
Now
if only I didn't feel suddenly nauseous. The sun beat down on me,
unnaturally hot. Stumbling under a canopy I marveled at my good
luck. It was a clothing store, and a cheap one at that. Moth-eaten
and likely salvaged from the abandoned homes of the dead, the goods
looked serviceable enough for my purposes. One purchase of a
sink-sized sun hat and I was on my way again. The sun on my arms
prickled like too much static but if I kept them crossed and close to
my body the exposure was bearable. I drew more than my fair share of
second glances but I was familiar enough with that by now to pay it
little mind. The wide brim of the sun hat had the added advantage of
blocking my face from anyone that might identify me to the police.
Though, in truth, I wondered if anyone outside my own family would
recognize me like this.
Half-suddenly,
the walk came to an end. It was no casual stroll after all, but a
quest for knowledge. Shaefer's Iced Goods was in front of me again.
It was a good bet that my best path was to just keep walking, hit
the bus station a block away and never come back. There were plenty
of towns along the frontier that paid only lip service to the new
government. I could get lost out there and never be found by the
authorities, or anyone that ever knew me, for that matter. But I
wasn't ready to give up my sister just yet. Wasn't willing to give
up this chance for the truth, for information about my real parents,
about who I really was.
Almost
as an afterthought, I snatched up a bit of dust and grit from the
edge of the sidewalk. In place of makeup, it would have to do.
Grimacing at the abrasion I rubbed it into my pores until I looked
less like a wax-skinned albino. I still didn't look at all tan, and
now had a strong compulsion to seek out a sink, but oddly the thin
shield of dirt and dust made me feel more at ease.
“
Would
you like to come in, little miss? I won't bite.” I jumped a
little before I caught myself. '
Penny.'
It
was oddly depressing to see her so happy and bright. She was in
great shape, tan, tall, and running her own business. Was it really
possible that we knew each other from before? Could I have been like
her if things had gone differently; been confident, elegant,
beautiful? Well, I was never a fan of vegetables. She probably
would have had me in the height department regardless.
“
I'd
like to speak with you, if you have time.” I thought I had
concealed my eagerness to interrogate her but she still looked at me
curiously. Perhaps I was too formal for my appearance? Young teens
here in the city seemed to speak a whole other language. I'd heard
the term 'yolo swag' a week ago and as far as I was concerned it was
all still yiddish. “Please? It's important.”
“
Hmm...
sure. I was just about to go to lunch anyways.” Flipping the
sign and locking the door behind her she was ready go in moments.
“
Uh,
Penny? You forgot your apron.” She blushed, but rather than
reopen the door she managed to stuff it into her purse. I noticed
grimly from her lack of confusion that I hadn't been wrong about her
name. What did I even want from this? It wasn't as if her telling
me my past would make everything better, even if she knew it in the
first place. Still, I just couldn't abide not knowing any longer.
We
walked in silence after that, save for the clacking of my sandals
against the pavement. It was difficult not to stare at her. The
longer I spent in her presence the greater was the sensation that I
knew her from long ago. A soft warmth rose within me, much like the
peaceful comfort I found around Holly. Unlike walking near a
stranger, I felt no urge to step away or raise my shoulders like a
frightened cat. I pushed aside my pondering as Holly led me through
the door of a little sandwich shop. She was apparently a regular –
the waitress had her order written down before she even made it to
the table. I didn't want to make Penny wait so I just asked for the
same.
We
sipped slowly on a pair of lemonades. The awkward silence had gone
on so long that now I wasn't quite sure how to begin.
“
So,”
said Penny, propping her elbows on the table, “what did you
want to talk to me about? And who are you for that matter? If this
is about a job I really can't afford to hire–”
“
Do
you recognize me?” I said quickly, interrupting her.
“
What?
No, you'll have to give me more of a hint than that. Are you
Herschel's sister?”
On
second thought that probably wasn't the most coherent way to start
this conversation. I felt my palms start to sweat and grabbed my
knees. “I met you once before, with my sister. I called you
Penny the pixie.”
The
drinks shook as she sat back in her chair, hands falling to cross in
her lap. “It is you, isn't it. You looked different last
week.” She seemed little interested in her drink now. “How
did you know that nickname, anyways? I haven't heard it since...
since Before. You didn't just make it up when we met, did you? I
didn't think kids even knew what pixies are anymore.”
A
hand-drawn cart clattered along the sidewalk outside as I summoned my
courage. I hadn't even told Holly any of my suspicions, and she was
closer to me than anyone. “This is going to sound crazy, but I
think my name is Angela.”
“
What
else would it be?” She flicked her bangs back from her eye as
she stretched her back.
For
a brief second I thought she understood, thought she truly recognized
me. Then reality kicked in. “No!” Eyeing the other
diners warily I lowered my voice. “No, you don't understand.
I'm older than I look. I have a, umm, growth problem, or something.
I lost my memories eleven years ago from a head injury, so I need to
know if you knew me from before the Infection. Please, just look at
me, I probably don't look that different.”