Late Dawns and Early Sunsets

Anticipation tickled the hairs on the back of my neck as if an imaginary snake were slithering over my skin. I wiped a hand across my forehead, finding it warm and wet with sweat and dirt-caked blood. Beside me, Gia was wheezing.

"How much longer?" she struggled, trying to keep her breaths from echoing throughout the cave.

I leaned my head against the cool, sharp rock and closed my eyes. Despite being refreshingly chilly in here, the sweat falling in icy drops on my neck made it hard to think straight.

We had too many close calls tonight. Way too many. They must have been multiplying overnight.

"Cal?" called Gia.

"I don't know." I sighed and shifted my aching feet in the dirt. "I'm too tired to find a better spot for the night."

Gia nodded in the darkness. Her breathing calmed, letting silence settle over the cave, like a safety blanket.

It's amusing, in some sick, twisted way, how the most bizarre things can become a reality. We as a nation should've seen it coming, after being slapped in the face with the millions of deaths the pandemic caused two years ago. And even now, though wearing masks is legally optional, much of the nation still possess the same mindset we adopted during the pandemic. People are still traumatized, still suffering from depression and anxiety, and all these other mental illnesses which spawned during quarantine and stayed for years later.

Yet still, still, we weren't prepared for this. A true apocalypse birthed straight from those cliche sci-fi films.

Gia fumbled around her pack for matches and a candle. The setting sun gleamed golden through the cave entrance, but we knew it wouldn't stay for long. Soon, the night would come, and sleeping would become one of the hardest parts of the day.

***

I don't usually have dreams.

It's just blackness, but the weird thing is that I'm conscious of it. I know that I'm supposed to be having a dream, but all I see, all I experience is a shallow, warm existence inside the mouth of crushing darkness.

However, a startling crash near the mouth of the cave yanked me from the darkness in my dream to that of reality. Its shadowy hands seemed to squeeze around my throat.

"Did you hear that?" I whispered urgently to Gia beside me. I began to chew on the dry skin of my lip. Anxious. Alert. "Gia?"

There was no response. Shadows crawled all over my skin like ants.

"Gia," I whispered harshly.

The silence that followed seemed to send liquid dread roaring in my ears.

Seemed to whisper, Run. 

***

I couldn't run as fast as I needed to, carrying the weight of both Gia's pack and my own. My footsteps were clumsy and boisterous, my breathing labored and loud. The forest seemed to have been coated in a blanket of thick black tar, so dense I could barely see my own two feet in front of me.

We should've found a more concealed location for the night. I never should've let my eyes fall shut, leaving her unguarded in that deathly darkness.

A sharp, throbbing sensation shooting up my knees jolted me from my thoughts. Sucking in lungfuls of air, I slumped against the nearest tree and fought to stay on my feet. I couldn't let pain distract me from thinking responsibly about this. I needed a sign, a clue. Something to indicate that my sister is alive.

Wind sifted through the leaves of the trees. In the distance, I heard shuffling and the cracking of twigs. My nerves turned to ice. Breath hitched in my throat.

I listened closely as the shuffling became closer. The footstep pattern is how one can differentiate a zombie from a human. Human paces are even and quick; depending on how fast a person is traveling, you'll always be able to hear the thumpthump-thumpthump of their footsteps, like a pounding heartbeat. If the footsteps sound disordered or sloppy, it's probably a zombie.

My fingers curled under the chips of bark on the tree trunk. The wind carried distorted shouts and animal-like noises from far away, but the footsteps I heard before were so close I could almost feel the vibrations through the ground. Nearly ten feet away, leaves crunched and feet pounded discordantly, accompanied by raspy groans and shouts.

A string of curses unfurled in my head. Every breath I inhaled sent a tingling sensation through my nose, having been cleared from the exercise. I followed the dark figure traipsing through the woods. The zombie seemed to be heading in the direction of the animal-like sounds I heard before.

Seemed like they'd found a new victim.

***

The strip mall had long been deserted. Before the pandemic reared its ugly head, they had planned on turning the place into a luxurious hotel and casino, Las Vegas-style. However, construction had to be postponed because of the virus, and judging by the lines of police tape whipping in the wind and the various construction signs displayed around the mall, they never got around to finishing it.

After seeing what the place looked like now, I, too, wouldn't want to step foot in there ever again. Zombies infested the place like some sort of grotesque zoo. Some with mauled, grayish skin climbed all over the walls, trying to get to the top where they could scout the surroundings better, while others grouped in a broken circle near the front of the building.

Similar to when vultures spy a fresh carcass lying in the road, zombies tend to congregate around their victim, cornering them until they're close enough to take a bite.

Despite my panic, something in my chest reassured me that Gia was still alive. Somehow. Looking back to that vicious circle of predators, however, she might not stay that way for long.

I unsheathed the knife from my belt and bolted straight for my sister.

***

I've only ever killed three zombies in my life. The first time was when our group consisted of me, Gia, TJ, Banach, and his dog Georgie. TJ and Banach were a few stragglers we'd come across while hunting for a place to spend the night. Generously, they allowed us to stay at their camp for two weeks before one morning we were awoken by the sound of inhuman snarls and the tearing of flesh. We managed to escape the zombie ambush that morning, but the others weren't so lucky. However, a stray zombie pursued Gia and me relentlessly through the woods. It managed to rake its yellowed, dirt-crusted nails across Gia's arms before I gripped my knife and drove it deep into its chest.

The other two times were a blur to me, but I remember feeling strangely unbothered after I had done it. I expected to feel some sort of guilt since the zombies I killed were once people too, but your fight-or-flight response tends to decide things for you in the heat of a moment when a zombie's wide, decaying mouth is mere inches away from your face. That day I saved Gia and myself from another ambush, so I think the relief of still being alive trumped any guilt I might've had the luxury of feeling.

But my days of rescuing were not over yet. Feeling blisters already beginning to form on the soles of my feet, I raced toward the congregation of undead creatures salivating over my sister. The knife in my sweaty hands seemed to hum in anticipation of what was to come. My heartbeat followed along, banging against my ribcage as if it were beating for the last time.

After crossing a major street, I paused to catch my breath behind a demolished car in the mall parking lot. The zombies still circled Gia, and for a moment I was worried they had already had their way with her. Perhaps I was too late, and she had already begun oozing foul liquid from the pores of her skin.

But in the middle of their killing circle, Gia bravely challenged her captors, knife in hand.

I stole a glance at the front of the car hiding me. The hood was smashed in, decorated with a nasty human-sized dent and a couple of broken windows. It's unlikely that the car would be able to start, let alone drive. I didn't want to charge in with only my knife as protection, but the nearest car was a little red thing about 100 yards away. I would definitely be seen and targeted before I reached it.

I didn't have much time to think. Anxiety made my head pound ruthlessly, so bad I could hear it through my skull.

With a guttural cry, I brandished my knife and charged the circle of zombies who were mere seconds away from sinking their teeth into Gia's flesh. As if programmed, all the zombies snapped their heads in my direction and regarded me with hungry, bestial eyes.

"Get away from her!" I shouted, secretly relieved to see that Gia was unharmed.

One of the zombies at the front of the killing circle twitched and limped in my direction, the others following close behind. The ones perched on top of the building eyed the change in direction and sent out a cacophony of shouts that echoed across the empty parking lot.

"Cal!" screamed Gia, half relieved and half terrified. I had about three seconds to make a decision, or I would certainly be dead.

Hardly thinking, I sprinted at full force toward the charging zombies. Gia screamed again, perhaps in warning, but it was too late to change my mind.

The first swing of my knife was careless. It missed the first zombie's neck and grazed its arm, causing it to let out a roar and outstretch its decrepit appendage toward my throat. I cursed and fell back, hoping to make some distance between the zombie and me so I could get a good aim. Once it was close, I swung again and sank my blade deep into its throat. The next wave of creatures came, but the success I had with the first seemed to spark something in me. The pain in my feet and knees and the pounding in my head faded to the background as I honed in on the enemies before me. I swung with hardly a wink, slicing flesh and kicking feet to fend off the numerous hands trying to grab at me.

After sinking one particular zombie to the ground with a nice blow to the groin, I saw Gia in the distance fending off a couple of enemies with her own knife. She seemed to be handling it well, as I hoped she would. As annoying and irrevocably stubborn as she could be, she certainly knows how to defend herself. Give her a weapon and a target, and she's basically indestructable.

The moon glittered above us in the ink-black sky, the stars winking at us from their safety in outer space. Fighting in the dark was nearly impossible, and my legs burned from kicking and lunging. If more zombies decided to join the party, I would need help.

I sprinted over to the entrance of the mall, where Gia was throwing punches at the zombies pursuing her. Her knife laid a couple of feet away from her, but there was hardly any opportunity to retrieve it.

"Can I join you?" I asked breathlessly, swiping the knife from the ground.

She sighed and gripped the weapon. Her hands were stained with blood and yellow liquid. "Took you long enough."

***

Things took a turn for the worse.

New waves of zombies came flooding in by the minute, alerted by the cries of their wounded siblings. Gia and I were exhausted.

I drove the hilt of my knife down onto one zombie's skull, sending it to the ground with a slump. Hands grabbed and clawed at my skin. Those on the ground tried to snag my ankles with their teeth. It wasn't until one particular zombie crept up behind Gia and bared its teeth at her shoulder that I decided we needed to retreat. Quickly I kicked away Gia's attacker and huffed, "We need to go."

"There's nowhere else," she cried, slashing a zombie's throat and slicing cleanly at another's eye. "We're trapped, Cal."

Seeing Gia in such a fearful state stirred something heavy in my heart.

I grabbed her hand tight and yanked her toward the back of the mall.

***

The sky outside glowed an inky, ambivalent blue so that the inside of the mall was nearly as dark as pitch. Gia and I stumbled through the dark, taking stationary escalators two at a time to put as much space between the zombies and us as possible. Despite our efforts, hungry and disgruntled zombies began pouring over the second-floor balcony, quickly surrounding us.

"I'm too tired to fight," said Gia in a small voice. It shocked me to hear the hitch in her throat as she held back tears. Zombie growls echoed across the empty mall as they closed in on us in a circular formation.

"I always thought I would die in a happier way. Like, from a heart attack or a car crash or something."

"I wouldn't necessarily qualify those as 'happy,'" I said, sarcastically.

She frowned. "Anything is happier than this."

And she was right.

No amount of strength would be able to hold off an army this big. Gia was full-on sobbing now. Sobbing as we backed up slowly, ready to be consumed by the crowd. Sobbing as I promised, "We'll be okay. We'll be okay."

The first zombie bit her on the arm.

She howled, a deep sound constricted by tears. I could almost feel the bite on my skin, but I could tell it wasn't the pain of it that made her cry out.

It was knowing that once it happened, there was no hope.

Hearing her cries ignited something in me. I wouldn't be able to explain the sudden resurgence of strength, but it felt like I'd been injected with a steroid. My muscles felt full, my arms strong. My head was scarily clear. Somehow I mustered the strength to raise my knife, along with Gia's, which she'd dropped on the floor hopelessly.

Everything that happened next was a blur of flesh and blood.

They weren't all dead, not by a long shot. But the sudden burst of courage seemed to take the remaining zombies by surprise. They retreated, limping like short-circuiting robots.

I was at Gia's side before I knew what I'd done. Her face and lips were ashen, and the whites of her eyes began to turn yellow. The bite mark on her arm had turned an ugly purple, along with two others on her neck and shoulder.

I said her name like a solemn prayer, but she only gazed at me blankly.

"Cal," she managed, her voice thick.

"I'm here," I said, ignoring the way my voice cracked. "I'm here. You're okay. You're gonna be okay."

"I'm turning into one of them."

I shook my head. Over and over, I shook my head and took her hand in mine. "No, you're not, Gia. Okay? We're gonna — we're gonna find somebody who can help you." I wiped at my runny nose. "There's a — a camp a few miles from here, okay? We can take you there, see if anyone can help. A medicine or —"

"Cal."

"—you're going to be okay, I swear, G—"

"Cal."

I stopped, but my tears still fell like a melancholy rain.

Her eyes were in pain. I could see it, like shattered little stars. I gripped her hands tighter, trying to ignore the way her entire body trembled.

"I — I can't lose you," I confessed, voice barely a whisper. "Please, not you."

She exhaled a shuddering breath. "I don't want to live this way."

I couldn't speak. All I could do was shake my head.

Denial. 

"Take it away," said Gia softly.

I looked up at her, face blurry through hot tears. "What?"

She shuddered out another breath. I could tell she was holding back more pain than she was showing. She placed her trembling, icy hand on mine, then guided it toward the knife lying on the ground between us. It glimmered in the lazy morning light.

And then I understood.

"No," I said abruptly. "No, Gia, I — I can't."

"You have to," she begged. "Please."

I could only stare. How could I live with myself if I took this blade to her skin? How could I live on this earth, knowing I was the reason for her death? How could I live a life without her?

"I don't want to live like this," she repeated quietly. "I'd rather die. Please, I need you to do this, Cal."

Suddenly, her body twitched, and something deep in her eyes darkened like the life had been sucked out of them. She let out a scream, back arching and tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. It echoed. It rang, like a school bell signaling the end of the day. Like a fire alarm signaling a devastating tragedy.

"Gia—"

But there wasn't anything left of Gia in that body. Saliva foamed at the corners of her mouth, and blood bubbled underneath her skin like fire. Her eyes were mad, like a rabid dog having just seen a rabbit.

My tears dripped onto her ashen skin.

"I love you," I whispered, so quietly that no one else could hear it but her. Not the zombies, not God. No one. This moment was for us.

I gripped the hilt of the knife between sweating palms. Raised it like it was holy. Sacred

A burst of something — light, or life perhaps — struck through Gia's eyes.

"Cal," she breathed.

I brought the knife down.