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“You can feel anger. I get it. I feel it too, all the time. I know what you mean, but honey, it’s not going to do you any good to be so mad.”
Lucy didn’t respond, just floating on her back, her eyes closed, her arms out beside her.
She climbed back into the water. Swimming to her sister with the shampoo bottle in her hand, she made her look at her.
“This is all pointless,” Lucy whispered.
“No, it’s not. Mom and Dad wouldn’t want us talking or thinking this way, would they?” Lucy shook her head but still looked dejected. “Listen, you’re going to finish washing up, and tonight you’re going to sleep so well because you’ll know I’m going to keep you safe. I’m going to make sure everything is okay.” Sasha smiled. “We’re going to have to wash that dirt right out of you.” With that, she squirted some of the shampoo onto Lucy’s hair and lathered it into her scalp.
They could do this.
One day at a time.
It’s what her mother said to her on the first day of high school when she didn’t want to go.
I miss them so much.
Chapter Six
Descent into madness
Malachi finished off the water, crushing the plastic bottle in his hand before tossing it aside. There was a car alarm blaring in the distance, the sound of glass shattering close. He exhaled and sat back in the piece of shit chair, the warehouse he was currently in was run down, the scent of dirt, mold, and age filling his head. It had been a week since the virus had fully taken over, and in that week the proverbial shit had certainly hit the fan.
His clientele had dropped astronomically in the last week. The majority of them had gotten taken by the virus, and the other part had made a run out of the city when it had been broadcast that the survival rate was pretty much nonexistent.
“Fuck,” he gritted out and ran a hand through his hair. There was the sound of someone screaming in the distance, long and pain-filled.
“Malachi, man, I’m thinking of hightailing it out of here.” Robbie, one of his most trusted men, was pacing, sweat coating his temples. “The old lady is freaking out, worried she’s going to get sick.” He walked over to one of the massive busted-out windows, standing there for long seconds before Malachi heard him trying to cover up a cough.
Malachi saw his reflection in the jagged glass still attached to the window. That’s when he watched Robbie place his hand on his mouth, a smear of crimson on his lips.
He stood and took a few steps back from where Robbie was. Although they’d been together all day, and if Robbie was sick he would have already infected Malachi, there was no way some fucking virus was going to take him down.
Robbie turned, more blood smeared on his lips. He started coughing a little more now, and Malachi thought back to their time together today, how he’d heard Robbie covering up his coughing, clearing his throat constantly, this ashen look on his face.
“Malachi?” He looked down at his bloodied fingers. “What does this mean?” He took another step forward, then another, one more until he was a handful of steps from Malachi.
Malachi moved back, retreated, his hand going toward the small of his back where the Glock was situated. “Don’t fucking come closer, Robbie,” he said low, deadly.
“Malachi,” Robbie said and took another step closer.
“I said fucking stop, Robbie.” He pulled the gun from his waistband and pointed it at Robbie, causing the man to stop in his tracks.
His nerves made every part of him alert.
“What the fuck, Malachi?” Robbie started coughing again, more blood spraying out of his mouth.
Shit, it was like a one-eighty turn in his health.
Robbie moved forward again and Malachi cocked his gun. “You come any closer and I’ll fucking shoot you, Robbie.” Malachi’s voice was hard, cold.
“You’d fucking shoot me?”
“I don’t want to, but if it meant staying alive, yeah, I fucking would. I will.”
Robbie looked hurt, but in Malachi’s world he didn’t have time for that shit. His emotions were shut off, or maybe they’d never been present.
“Either leave or get a bullet in your head, Robbie. The choice is yours.” The silence stretched on for a suspended moment.
“You’ll fucking die just like everyone, Chi.”
“Maybe, but not today. Not right now.”
Robbie coughed again but was smart enough to turn and leave. Or maybe he was a fucking fool. He was going home to his old lady, who would get sick, too. They’d both die, just like everyone else getting this fucking virus.
Robbie had kept the warehouse door partially open after he’d left. The sounds of violence outside came through without the barrier, louder, clearer. Malachi exhaled and lowered his gun, but kept his hand wrapped around the handle, nice and firm.
