Fire of the Hill

There was no one left. The zombies have transformed everyone that I knew in one of them.

It was only my five-year-old sister and me. She was afraid, so was I. I tried to stay calm and maintain the posture that "everything would be just fine" to avoid freaking her out. But I didn't know if everything would be fine; I didn't see the answer for the first time in my life.

Celia looked giant in the small and airless room that we were. There wasn't light nor ventilation. It was so dark that the only visible light was Celia's shining sneakers. It was freezing there, and we just had a thin blanket with us. I had lost track of time, so I wasn't sure of how long we were at that airless cubicle. But I did know that the food shouldn't be at its end like it was.

I knew that we would need to get out of there, and I was sure that we needed to find water and food to survive. But I didn't know a better and safer place to hide.

Those terrifying creatures were everywhere, and they would do anything to survive. They didn't have a conscience, so why would they care? They were violent and aggressive. They ripped people in the middle then ate the body parts till they reach the brains. That was the worst part.

The zombies crabbed the person's head and pressed their very bony fingers into the eyes. First, they removed the eyeball, then started to take the brains through that hole once a living person's eye.

"Celia?" I said. She looked at me with a scared look; "We need to get out of here." 

"I don't want to," she said. I felt her cold fingers in my right arm. 

Her fingers were freezing because of the weather. That place was awful, and I wouldn't let my little sister die there. I wouldn't let the zombies transform us too.

I'd find a way to escape. 

I placed my hand in her soft and cold face and stared her in the eyes. "I know that you're afraid, I'm too. But, we need to find a safer place to hide." "I don't want to die, Tom," she pronounced the words in a very intense and dark way. In a way that none five-year-old should be. "This won't ever happen."

I kissed her forehead while she hugged me and rested her head on my chest. I didn't lose her once during that cold night. She was everything to me now.

We were in this together from the beginning. We lost our parents, our friends, and our brother. I was her everything, and she was mine. I wouldn't disappoint her as I did to the others. I would keep this girl safe at any cost.

Suddenly, I found myself driven into the past. I remembered dad and his confidence; mom and her affection; and, most of all, I remembered Jaime. Jaime was my brother, not just my brother, my twin. He was a part of my soul, my days' light, and the yin to my yang. So, when the zombies killed him mercilessly in front of Celia and me, I felt lost. What would I do without him? And then, Celia guided me through the darkness. 

She showed me the end of the labyrinth; she made me understand that Tom would always be with me no matter what and that I'm me because of me, not entirely because of him.

"You know what? You're 100% right. You're the most selfish and eccentric person that I know, but you're good. I know that you're hating not becoming a zombie and hating having to go down West when you aren't giving a shit about this whole apocalyptic situation. But remember: our dreams only realize once and yours came true years ago." My mouth contracted in a shy smile. That was the last thing that Tom had said to me. 

Almost two years had passed since the unfortunate, but I could still remember every gesture and facial expressions he did when he said it. His golden heart and curly-black hair would always be here; in this land. That's why I needed to save Celia, that's what he would have done.

I watched Celia sleeping. She was peaceful and happy and probably was, as I wish, dreaming with castles and unicorns. Looking at her so intensively as I was, caused me anguish.

I knew that it was practically impossible to survive outside this cubicle, but I needed to make the impossible possible. For Celia, mom, dad, and Jaime. For every one that lost someone dear or their own life. It wasn't only to save us; I would keep everybody that was still fighting safe. I just didn't know how yet.

In the morning, I took a backpack and filled it with the rest of the food and water.

I made a hole in the thin blanket to make Celia feel warmer. And, I also turned my shoelaces into what seemed to be a tiny rope.

We were utterly unprepared to go outside, but it was necessary. Someone should end the chaos, and we were going West, to the Western Mountains, to try it.

Open the small door of that dark and tiny place was the hardest thing I did since the beginning. What if zombies were waiting for us on the other side of the door? What if my lunatics and irresponsibility killed Celia?  

The intense light hit my eyes. The door was open, and the little window of that weirdly bigger room was reflecting the light directly to my eyes. 

We were getting back to the real world. We were completely exposed to that dangerous place now. 

Celia was behind me, and I noticed that she was trying to see the room. The room was slightly more significant than the one we were in and had a window. It was as airless as the other, but it looked more comfortable. Why didn't we stay in that room?

And then, with a step, I remembered. It was very noisy. The wooden floor had awful conditions, and at every step, it made a huge "CREAK" noise.

I looked to Celia and put my finger on my lips, making a low "Shhh" noise.  Her lips contracted as she was whispering, "How are we going to go to the stairs?" I took her hand and made her grab my shoulder. I got down a little bit, and she jumped on my back. 

She wasn't very heavy, so it wasn't difficult to bear her. The only problem was that we needed to get to the stairs, and, amazingly, for a little room like this, the stairs never seemed so far as it was.

At each step, I was afraid of the noise. My hands were sweating, and Celia's body started to fall. I arranged her hands around my neck and kept moving.

We got to the stairs.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. It was impossible. How could that be real?

The door leading to the top floor was broken. There was fire blocking the passage; there was fire everywhere outside there. And then, I realized. The zombies were burning everything that could have someone living inside.

I took Celia's out of my back and said to her to run the first cubicle. She kissed my cheek and ran. I knew that I should do the same, but I couldn't. I needed to see how the outside was. I was going to die anyway, so at least I would see the exterior one last time.

I slowly walked towards the fire. The heat wasn't very intense, but the more I walked, the more hot the environment was.

I didn't care if I wouldn't survive the fire that was just 4 feet apart from me; I kept walking till I reached it.

I was in a bubble—a giant red-orange bubble full of heat, fear, terror, and light. It was the vision of hell. The pain consumed me. I could feel every inch of my body burning. I could feel every beat of my heart.

I couldn't see the outside; I couldn't see the chaos. The fire was the last thing I would see, or what I thought.

A shadow. A monster. A vision. I saw it—a zombie. 

That zombie was carrying torches and throwing them at the houses. He was one of the responsible for the chaos, the fear, the deaths. But he didn't seem to care. He was just dragging his body and making noises. 

He turned.

The last thing I saw was his fearless eyes making contact with me—deep caramel eyes with anger and doubt. The clothes were the same, but his face wasn't. He was dead now, didn't have a soul anymore. The only thing that he was doing was following the other zombies. He was lost.

With a flash and a scream, I lost my conscience.