Siblings

                Today is Cleo’s birthday.

She never really was one to celebrate it and most of the time she went out of her way to ignore its very existence. Even after everything that happened- the dead coming back to life and the complete and total collapse of society as they knew it as a result- Cleo stood firm in her belief that her birthday was a pointless day.

There are more important things to stress over right now other than me seeing another rotation around the Sun. Like…oh I don’t know…the sweet old lady from down the road now trying to nom on my flesh.

Claude smirks at the soft echo of his baby sister’s voice, “That’s the point.” He mutters to her, “We should cherish these moments while we can.”

He looks up from his work and watches as the faint apparition of his sister rolls its eyes as it leans against his work table.

‘Or we can cherish every day and not hyper-focus on one day in particular.’

Claude lets out a low sigh shaking his head as he finishes cleaning his rifle and sets it next to his other assortment of weapons, “…stubborn as usual.”

She never would admit it fully to him, but he speculated that part of the reason for this anti-birthday belief was because Cleo was the one to find their mother after she passed away from a heart attack. Thankfully, that was before things went belly up. Back when the dead stayed dead.

Claude never pretended to understand how his sister’s mind worked, but if he had to guess, he would say it was guilt fueling this new life doctrine.

Guilt that she was alive while their mother was not. A guilt that made her feel like she didn’t deserve a birthday. Claude had that same guilt, although his had a whole second layer to it. A guilt that he failed as a big brother. A guilt that he failed to protect her from something that would warp her in such a way, but he was at college at the time. And even though she never blamed him, never made him feel as if he was at fault, Claude couldn’t help but want to make it up to her any way he could.

And that meant celebrating her birthday; showing her that she was in fact worthy enough to have a whole day dedicated to her.

Even if it annoyed her that he did.  

‘Are you ready?’

Claude blinks pulling himself from his musings and finishes piecing the gun he was cleaning back together. His eyes begin to search silently through the row of cleaned and loaded weapons for anything that would allow him to remain there.

“I got a list.” He finally says tapping the small wrinkled paper next to him. “Let me finish my list, ok?”

‘The others are waiting-‘

“I know, Lele. Just…..I got to make sure I’m not leaving nuthin’. Would have been pointless for us to come over here just to forget things you know.”

He looks over to her after a moment of silence to see that the apparition is gone. He huffs gently before sliding his list in front of him.

Task 1: Clean weapons (Check)

~~~~~~~~

“What about wearing a hat? You know, those cardboard cones with the confetti on top and the whole HAPPY BIRTHDAY lettering? You could just wear that for the day and I’d leave you alone.”

‘Maaan, the last time I wore one of those I was five and do you remember what I did when I had it?”

Claude pauses his packing to laugh, “Yooo, you started head butting people while calling yourself the murder unicorn.” He chuckles again as he sets the last bit of the canned goods in to the duffel bag.

‘Exactly! So do you want the murder unicorn to return?’

“If it gets you excited about your birthday again, then yes. I’ll suffer through sharp head butts for a day.” Claude finishes his packing with a final sip of the duffel before setting it with four bags.

‘You can’t carry all that on your own.’

“I’mma have to.”

‘It’ll slow you down.’

“I’ll move carefully.

‘Just leave my half here. Get back home and come back for it later.’

“What if it gets looted, huh? We found some good stuff here, Lele. I can’t just leave it behind. That would-”

‘Defeat the whole purpose of coming out here blah blah blah.’

 The apparition hovers in front of him. Its arms fold over its chest, ‘Come back for it. Take the rations and the ammo, leave the rest. You and Devon can come back for the rest later.’

 Claude continues to study the four bags in front of him. He knew she is right. She is always right about these things. If he tried to take all this with him in one go, it’ll be harder for him to fight off any hoards he may run in to on the way back. But…

Claude sighs, “Me and Devon should have been the ones to come out here to begin with.”

The apparition is silent for a moment before fading away, ‘…I’m sorry.’

Claude feels his throat tighten realizing how what he said sounded, “No, that’s not what I meant. I just-” His eyes search for her, but again, she’s gone. He hands over his face as he tries to loosen the knot stuck right under his Adam’s apple.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He says soft to the empty room, “I didn’t mean it like that at all.”

After a few more seconds of silence, he sighs and pulls out the small wrinkled check list.

Task 2: Pack (Check)

~~~~~~~~

‘Are you ready?’

Claude stands silently before the door. His check list wasn’t much. Just three things, and he did he best to make those first two items last as long as he possibly could, but there was only so much packing and cleaning one man could do.

The grip on his rifle tightens as he lets out a slow long exhale.

The apparition appears next to him.

Their dark brown eyes study the simple wooden door. They can make out soft muffled hissing behind it.

“I was supposed to look out for you.” He begins softly stepping forwards, “We were supposed to get back home together.”

His hand grips the cool metal knob and he turns it.

The hissing pauses before becoming louder more aggressive.

A heavy chain sounds as something pulls harder on it.

Claude begins his decent down the basement’s old but sturdy stairs.

 “There is a party waiting for you back home, you know.”

‘Oh? I would have hated that.”

He chuckles, “I know, but you were supposed to come back and be shocked anyway.”

The hissing shifts in to raspy growls as Claude makes it to the bottom of the steps. 

Chains rattle here and there; searching. It knows someone is down there with it.

“You were supposed to glare angrily at me all night long while forcing a big smile on your face so that you don’t hurt everyone’s feelings.”

Claude’s fingers dance above him for a moment before finally finding the cord. 

The light flickers on with a click.

His sister lounges at him, but is snatched back by the chain around her neck. She tries again clawing at the air between them. Hissing hungrily, violently.

Had it not been for the ash grey tint that coated her once beautiful dark brown skin or the festering open bite mark on her arm, Claude would have sworn that she was still Cleo.

Still alive; but she wasn’t.

“You were supposed to pull me off to the side and yell at me.” He says gently; his voice cracking.

 “You were supposed to say-“

‘It is a waste of rations. It’s too loud. We’ll draw unwanted attention.’

He could feel the vision press her back to his.

“And I would respond with ‘It’s your birthday, deal with it.’ ”

He lifts the rifle up, lining his scope with her head.

Tears begin to cloud his vision.

‘Put it down, Claude.’ The vision says gently.

“I messed up, Cleo. “

‘Keep your hands steady. Just like you showed me during target practice.’

“I looked away for just a second.”

‘You can do this.’

“Just a second, Cleo.”

‘It’s ok.’

He could feel the vision’s hand mirror his on the trigger.

‘We’ll do it together. On 3.’

“It was just for a second.”

‘1...’

“I’m sorry.”

‘2…’

“I’m so sorry.”

‘3...’

Task 3: Cleo… (Check)