“Please, Momma,” she sobbed.
When the car’s engine began to sputter, instinct took over. Emily turned and pressed her foot on the gas pedal, revving the engine. She watched one of the orange needles shoot around the dial. More knocks came. The first was solitary, leaving Emily to think for a moment that her mother had died. Then two more joined the first, and Emily saw the bloody glove of her mother’s hand appear in the window. The hand moved across the glass, up and over, again and again, before falling out of sight. Emily leaned away from the door, trying to make out what her mother had written on the glass. Alone, at the top, was a heart, outlined in crimson red that glowed bright against the gray fog. And beneath the heart, she read aloud one word. “GO!”
“Momma, no!” she cried, but the sputter of the car’s engine threatened again. “I love you, Momma.” Emily pressed the gas pedal, forcing the engine to keep idling. She waited for a response, but there was nothing.
“You gonna get Mom?” Justin pleaded. Emily could only shake her head as she tried pushing the car’s shifter into drive. Her hand shook, and she fumbled with the button. She heaved in a wet breath, choking on sobs that wouldn’t be denied. She pushed again and shifted the car into drive. Although she’d only had a few driving lessons, she managed to move the car around until the GPS’s triangle showed they were pointed toward the mall. Whatever it was that had hung up the front wheel before, it was now gone. As the triangle followed the blue path, the constant blaring of the other car’s horn grew more distant.
When the GPS told her it was time to turn, she rolled the wheel. The car felt wobbly, pitching up and jerking around, but the tires were full, the windows unbroken. Their car had fared better than the other, somehow surviving the crash. She listened to the horn’s death wail, thinking they’d probably hear it all the way to the mall.
“What about Mom?” Justin repeated, but she ignored him, spitting out another mouthful of blood. The mall was all that she could think about now.
IV
THE MALL
“Two more turns,”
Emily said, tracing her finger along the GPS’s blue path. The point on the map where they’d crashed was already well behind them, far enough to silence the other car’s horn. They’d driven on, slow and steady. And by now, Emily thought, her mother was probably dead. Justin had stayed quiet, and she wondered if he could be too young to mourn. She wasn’t, though. More than once she thought she’d have to pull over and cry away the pain, put it to rest for another mile. But she stayed on course. They were almost there.
She’d only looked through the windshield once or twice, quickly learning to rely on the GPS’s smaller screen. Emily reached up and touched one of the cracks. The glass was wet. The fog was coming in, condensing on the inside. She quickly snuffed out the burn forming on her fingertips, then pressed on the gas pedal. She picked up the roll of plastic bags and hung it over her shoulder for her brother.
“Justin?” she called out, but heard nothing.
Movement.
“Come on, Justin!”
A groan.
“Costumes, we’re going to make costumes.”
Another groan. And then silence.
What’s he doing?
“Justin? Come on now, wake up. We’re almost there. Time to see Dad.”
Too quiet. A lump formed in her throat.
Emily moved the rearview mirror back into place. Justin’s reflection came into view, his image fractured by cracks and missing pieces of glass. But she could see him, and gasped. Her brother’s face had gone deathly pale and his lips had turned almost white. A maternal feeling sprang to life, and Emily slammed on the brakes, jerking their bodies forward.
“Wake up, Justin! I need you to wake up, now!”
Justin stirred, lifting his tiny hand to where she’d seen the cut atop his head.
“You bumped your head,” she told him, and then opened a bottle of water. “You have to stay awake. You hear me? We’re almost there.” Emily poured the cold water onto his head, waking him. To her relief, he cried out, shouting at her and waving, shooing her away. His eyes opened wide and they looked clear. She poured another splash onto his head. Justin’s hands flew in a fury of swipes, his little mouth gasping as though he’d been thrown into a pool.
“What you doing?”
“Time to play costumes,” she told him, and handed him some plastic bags. “We’re going to see Dad in a minute.” Justin took hold of a plastic bag, then pointed at her.
“Blood, Emily,” he said, wiping at his own mouth. “Bleeding.” Emily spat out the blood in her mouth and moved her hand to her side. She’d hit the windshield hard, breaking something, and it was deep, causing her to bleed internally.
“I know, buddy. I’ll be okay.” Her voice wavered, filled with uncertainty. “Another turn and we’ll be at the mall. Understand?” Justin nodded, and she watched some of the color return to his face.
The last mile was a near blur. Emotion, and whatever had broken inside her, had started to take hold. Emily followed the blue line until she hit a parked car, bouncing off of it. But unlike the car that had crashed into them, she’d gone slow enough that she could back away and continue on.
Emily bumped into another parked car and then a third. From the backseat, Justin had become livelier, laughing at the comical way his body bumped around.
“Daddy never does that,” he said. “Again, again, again!”
“Not now. Not on purpose, anyway.” Her words sounded slurred and her mind felt foggy. “Got all your plastic on?”
“Uh-huh,” he answered. “But I don’t know how to make eyeballs.”
“Push a finger through the plastic.” She heard the thin sound of plastic stretching and popping. The car hit something again. But it wasn’t another parked car. They’d hit the concrete curb separating the asphalt from the mall’s entrance. They’d made it. All at once, Emily thought she was going to begin crying.
“A hundred steps,” she said aloud. “A hundred steps to the doors.” A small fact she’d learned only because she and her girlfriends had counted them out one afternoon after they’d grown bored. She stopped then and thought maybe she could drive over the curb—drive up to the doors.
The bollards
, she remembered. Stumpy concrete legs sprouting up through the pavement like guardian statues. They’d been installed after the last hurricane, keeping the cars off the sidewalk. She couldn’t see them, but they were there.
“Are you ready, Justin?”
“I’m ready,” he answered. “But where is your costume?” Emily grabbed the plastic bags and stretched one over her left arm, grimacing when pain knifed from deep inside her. She grabbed another bag, pulling it up her other arm, punching a hole for her hand. More pain that threatened to make her black out. The inside of the car was turning over, and for a moment she couldn’t remember why they were at the mall. Dizzy, she cradled her head. Their time was short.
“Emily?” she heard. “Let’s go, Emily. I wanna see Dad.”
“The water,” she slurred. “Cover your head with the plastic, we’re going.” Opening a bottle, she dumped it over her head, pushing down her hair. The cold water woke her up. Her long red tresses fell flat, covering her face.
Soon her feet were outside and the salty fog captured her lungs. The condensation on the car’s handle burned instantly. She ignored it, opened Justin’s door, and sucked in the car’s air.
“Take a deep breath, and hold it as long as you can.”
“Hold it?”
“Try holding your breath, okay? On three.”
“On three? But I’m scared.”
“I am too. Dad will be in there.”
Justin reached up, clutching his sister’s neck.
“One… two… three!”
Emily began counting as she walked toward the mall’s tall glass doors. This was one walk she could do with her eyes shut. A straight shot. One hundred steps from the curb to the doors—eyes open or closed.
By the twentieth step, the air had leached through her wet hair, but she pushed forward, stretching her gait. Tears were streaming down her face as her eyes tried desperately to wash the poison burning them. Justin’s hands were loosening, falling away from her.
“Hold on,” she coughed, hearing raspy mucous rattle deep in her throat. Blood continued to fill her mouth, and by the sixtieth step, the wooziness weighing on her head was more of a threat than the poisonous fog. The strength in her legs was failing, and her feet became heavy. She gripped her brother, and Justin wrapped his arms and legs tighter, complaining in her ear that it hurt to breathe. And before she could answer him, a flash of lightning filled her eyes. They’d crashed into the tall glass doors, bouncing backward.
A sudden warmth spread over her middle and dripped down her arms. It was liquid and runny, going cold almost at once. The heavy flow continued and she thought that she’d started bleeding, or maybe Justin was bleeding.
“I’m sorry,” Justin cried, squirming. He’d peed, and she thought that the fog burns on her arm oddly felt a little better.
“It’s okay, buddy. We’re here, anyway,” she croaked, hugging his little body as he shook from the wet cold.
Emily grabbed the long metal handle, the touch burning her skin, and rushed them inside. Justin pulled off his plastic bag, grabbing at the back of his head. His face was swollen and red, burned. Emily wondered how bad she must look; how badly she’d been burned. She darted her eyes around the inside of the mall, finding dozens of faces staring back at them. Some familiar, some not. But all of them wearing the same expression—the same one she’d often seen on television after a disaster.
“Emily!” a woman’s voice called out. Ms. Parks, her ninth-grade English teacher, ran toward them. “Honey, you two are burned. Come on, we set up some help in the food court.” Emily set Justin down and fell to her knees, vomiting. Pools of red splashed onto the large brown tiles.
“We were in a car accident,” she was able to say before another wave of nausea hit her. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, searched the empty faces. Her father wasn’t there. “My father?”
“Phone!” Justin said. Her phone was buzzing. It wasn’t just a text message. It was actually ringing. A call was coming through. She scrambled to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Emily, baby?”
“Daddy!” she nearly screamed. “We made it, Daddy! We made it to the mall.” The faces around them grew dim, and her father’s voice began to break up. More people offered to help her to her feet. She waved them off, intent on listening.
“Justin, and your mom?” he asked. “I can’t reach your mom’s phone!” Emily bit her lip. An image of her mother’s face came into her mind. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him what had happened.
“Justin is here with me,” she said, beginning to blubber. A babble of unintelligible words came next. “You can see us when you get here!”
“Emily, I’m so sorry,” he told her, his voice going in and out. “I’m so sorry this happened. It was all my fault. All of it.” She held the phone away from her head, trying to understand what he was saying.
“But the fog was an accident. Right, Daddy?” A moment of confusion and doubt snapped at her heart.
“I love you guys. Remember that, okay?” Her father’s voice went quiet then. She could hear him crying. And in the background, she could hear something else. It was the sound of a car horn. A horn that was stuck, blaring, and immediately her heart went still. Her arms and legs tingled, and she struggled to breathe.
“Daddy, what’s that sound?” she was able to ask before the first sobs set in. “Daddy… Dad, where are you?”
“Baby, I love you. But I’m not going to make it to the mall.” The car horn’s wail mixed with her father’s words. Visions of curious faces began to spin around her.
“Why?” she yelled at him. “Why aren’t you coming?”
“I hit something. It’s bad, baby. Got me trapped inside. I love you guys—”
The phone cut out a final time.
The view in front of her turned over, and she heaved. It turned again, and she was vaguely aware of being lifted. The faces that had stared were now carrying her, saving the daughter of the man who’d released a poison monster upon the world. Comfort came when she heard Justin’s voice, encouraging her to stay awake, like she’d done with him earlier. Her arm fell, and she felt his tiny warm fingers wrap around hers, tugging on them.
“Dad will be here soon,” he told her. “Daddy will be coming, just like you said, Emily.” And in that moment, she decided to never tell anyone what her father had done. She’d never say a word about the catastrophe he’d caused. Instead, the story she’d tell would be about the tragedy of two lovers, dying together, yet separated by a disaster. And she’d tell of the great accident, and how a young brother and sister fought and survived the day when the skies first went gray.
Into the Dark
BOOK II
V
THE DEAD DON’T MOVE
Her last memory was
the
taste of blood: copper, like a penny. But there was more in that memory, wasn’t there? The warm touch of her little brother’s fingers. His voice chirping in her ear like a sparrow calling from their yard. And there was a sense of being lifted—carried like a leaf in the breeze. Pain. There had also been a terrible pain. And the sound of hissing static after hearing her father’s last words.