In Memoriam; In Denial

Help, the voice whispered. Mitchell ignored it. Its voice cracked on a scream that pierced Mitchell's ears. Please, God, help us, MITCHELL—!

"Shut up!" he shouted into thin air. His eyes shot open wide. No. No, no, no, no, he shouldn't have done that, of course he shouldn't have, he knows better by now. Elliot turned to look at him, hands slowly dropping from where they had been covering his mouth. He didn't dare to breathe, but Mitchell knew what he was thinking. He agreed.

How could he be so stupid?

Tears brimmed in his eyes. I'm sorry, he thought. I'm so sorry, Elliot, god I'm so sorry.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and the voice that had been so clearly in his head before was now just as clearly a hair's breadth from his ear. He felt breath on his skin, smelled rotten meat, and heard that voice had been haunting him for years whisper, "Help us, Mitchell. Come back, please, help us." Mitchell choked on a sob. Elliot was just standing there, frozen, staring over his husband's shoulder. Mitchell shook his head frantically.

"Run!" he cried. "For God's sake, Elliot, run!" Elliot lifted a hand to his mouth to silence himself. His shoulders shook with the effort not to cry. He turned and ran just as the thing behind Mitchell poured into him.

A long time ago, before this had all started, Elliot would have said (if only to himself) that the sound of his husband's soul being ripped out of him would haunt him forever. But Elliot understood the reality of being haunted now, and it was the words that did it.

A long time ago, before this had all started, Elliot didn't believe in ghosts. He didn't even believe in souls, really. But Elliot knew just how real they were now, as did everyone left. When that slick, black, evil thing had crept into the first of Elliot's friends, he had readjusted his opinion of the preternatural so quickly it was nauseating. Or maybe that had been the blood.

A long time ago, before this all had started, Elliot would have said there was no good or evil; that humanity wasn't so black and white as to fit into such rigid thinking, that everyone was far too complicated to be judged so simply. But he'd seen evil now, stared into its face.

It had eaten his husband.

"Hey." Carrie sat gingerly on the ground next to Elliot. "We… I'm sorry, but we have to get moving. Bo's starting to hear them." Elliot nodded silently and stood, brushing ash off of the backs of his thighs. He looked around.

"How many, do you think?"

"Hm?"

"How many voices do you think came from here?"

Bo stamped over to them, kicking up ash. "They're not just voices, Elliot. Stop trying to pretend it's in your head. Call them zombies like the rest of us." They shouldered past Elliot, knocking their bag into his chest.

Carrie looked after them, mouth pulled tight. She looked back to Elliot and said with a small smile, "Maybe none. Maybe nobody saw them die." Elliot sighed and took one more look at the shell of an elementary school they had slept in.

"God, Carrie, I hope so," Elliot said softly. "This many people… this many children… if anyone did, they wouldn't have lasted long. Imagine the screams."

"I'd prefer not to," Carrie joked with a pathetic attempt at a chuckle. Elliot reached down for his bag before following after Bo. He pretended not to notice that the lump of charcoal he had to step over was about the size of an eight-year-old.

Run…. Elliot froze with a spoon halfway to his mouth. Carrie glanced his way. Elliot, run! For GOD'S SAKE, ELLIOT—

"…Elliot?" Carrie was speaking to him. Elliot looked up at her. "Are you okay? Are you hearing them?" she asked. Elliot nodded. He couldn't breathe. He stumbled to his feet, gathering his things and letting his bowl fall to the floor. He fumbled with the zipper of his backpack. He heard Carrie tell Bo, "I think we need to hurry. He hasn't said anything, but I think it's coming on fast."

Bo nodded. "Yea, we gotta go. It's not just him." They picked up their messenger bag. "We stood still for way too long. Dammit, Caroline!"

"We had to eat. Elliot was shaking."

"Don't pretend that was because he was hungry." Carrie followed them, quickly grabbing her own bag and leaving Elliot's bowl lying on the floor.

Elliot nearly slipped on the spilt stew as he followed them and the voice in his head was joined by another. Run, Elliot! the first voice pleaded.

You idiot. You never could keep your mouth shut, the second hissed.

Elliot was walking a few feet behind Carrie and Bo and clenching his jaw through a migraine. Run! He was getting quieter, but he was still so loud. At least he couldn't hear his father anymore.

Bo called over his shoulder, "We need to go faster. Keep up." Elliot nodded and jogged to join them. A glance at Bo's face was enough to tell Elliot that Bo's voices were considerably louder. He wasn't surprised. Children always moved faster.

Carrie nudged Elliot and offered him a sympathetic smile. It was kind of her to try to cheer him up, but he didn't understand. She didn't have any voices.

They didn't stop when the sun set. They couldn't – Mitchell's voice was just a whisper now, so quiet it made Elliot's ears ring, but Bo still winced every few seconds. "Hey," Elliot murmured, "are they any quieter?"

"Maybe. They aren't getting louder." Bo sounded tired. Their voice was breathless and slurred from fatigue. Elliot was about to reply when Bo sighed shakily and said, "I thought one of them said something new today." Elliot's eyes went wide.

"Really?"

Bo shook their head. "No, no, it was just Carrie. Her voice sounds kinda deep today, I think. It sounded kind of like Jace. It just… It was just a second before I realised, but it was this awful feeling like my stomach dropped out when I did. Almost like he died again."

"Yea, I think I'm getting sick," Carrie said awkwardly. "Sorry." Bo hummed noncommittally.

"God, finally." Bo sat on a bench before Elliot and Carrie even noticed they stopped. The tension in Elliot's shoulders released almost immediately. He sank to the ground next to the bench and tipped his head back against a wall. Carrie sat next to Bo.

"You're sure?" she asked. "We're safe?"

"For a while, yea. They're quiet." Carrie nodded and tilted her head to rest on Bo's shoulder. Bo leaned into her and closed their eyes. Elliot removed his glasses and hooked them on his shirt before doing the same. He fell asleep quickly despite the bright sunrise piercing his eyelids.

Elliot wouldn't have woken up if Carrie hadn't coughed so loudly. He blearily fumbled for his glasses, groaning when he accidentally touched one of the lenses. He put them on anyway – wiping them with his shirt would only make them dirtier. "Y'good?" he mumbled toward Carrie. She coughed again, a wet sort of thing that gave Elliot the impression some of her lungs may have come out.

"Yea, I'm fine," she answered, but her voice was gravelly. Bo blinked awake as well. It was about noon, They hadn't slept long. Elliot braced himself against the wall and stood slowly.

"We should go," he said while he stretched out his back. "Cover some distance before the sun goes back down."

"Should we see if we can scrounge up some lozenges or something?" Elliot asked Carrie.

"I doubt we could find anything that hasn't expired," Bo pointed out.

"No, yea, good point. Sorry, Carrie."

"I'll be fine, chill." She tried to laugh, but it sent her into a coughing fit.

When Elliot tried to wake Carrie up the next morning, she rolled away from him and groaned. "C'mon Carrie, get up." It took him a moment to realise how terribly she was shaking. "Carrie? You okay?" She didn't answer. "Caroline?"

Elliot jumped a little when Bo sat next to her, not having seen them. "What's wrong?" Carrie tried to speak but it devolved into a fit of coughing.

Elliot frowned. "We gotta get going. We slept in." He surveyed the restaurant they’d slept in. It was a lot cleaner than most places they stayed – the voices took longer to find them in places where people had died. Bo’s theory was that it was like trying to pick them out of a crowd. The kitchen was full of blood and the broken freezer had three or four long-dead bodies in it, but the dining area was nice. 

Carrie rasped something so quiet that Elliot couldn't hear it and attempted to push herself up. Her elbows buckled. Bo held a hand out for her and helped her stand, but her knees were visibly shaking as she leaned on them.

"Christ, your hands are cold. Elliot, I don't think she should be up."

Idiot…. Elliot sighed. They needed to go. Keep your mouth shut…. "Yea. You're probably right. We'll let her rest today, I guess." We’re dead… idiot.

Carrie was still weak the next day, but she could speak. "Zom—" She doubled over in another fit of coughing. Bo rushed over to make sure she was okay. Elliot moved over to give them room. Carrie, when she could breathe, leaned closer to them and whispered something Elliot couldn’t hear.

“No, no,” Bo insisted. “You can't go anywhere. We’d be going super slow anyway.” Carrie whispered again. “Yea, they are. But the best we can do with you like this is just stay put.” They glanced at Elliot but didn’t hold his gaze. “Try not to draw attention. Stay quiet. Stay hidden.”

Elliot was woken by Mitchell's voice. Run! He froze. That was much louder than it had been last night. He looked at Carrie. She was still asleep, but even from the other side of the room, he could see the sheen of sweat on her forehead. She wasn’t getting better. He went to shake Bo awake.

Bo mumbled drowsily.

“We have to go. I know Carrie’s sick, but they're coming. We need to go.”

Bo was struggling to open his eyes. “I know, but she can't….”

“Oh.” Elliot realised that if Mitchell was loud, Jace and Rachel must have been head-splitting. Thank God he doesn’t have to hear Andy too, he thought. “We should seriously get moving, Bo.”

They shook their head. “She can’t— ah!” They covered their ears and looked up at Elliot, a panicked look in their eyes. “Hide,” he whispered. Elliot ran swiftly to Carrie and slapped her shoulder a few times.

“Carrie,” he stage-whispered. “Carrie, wake up!” She startled awake. She gasped and scrambled under a tablecloth before Elliot even had time to explain. Elliot nodded at Bo and joined her. Her hand was clasped over her mouth and her shoulders were jerking in silent coughs. Bo darted under the cloth a moment later with all everyone's bags. They gritted their teeth and covered their ears.

Run, Elliot!

You idiot! We’re dead now.

For God’s sake!

Elliot tried to steady his breathing. Every breath seemed so loud in his ears, even over the voices. He clamped his eyes shut.

Run, for God’s sake, run!

You never could keep your mouth shut, Elliot. We’re dead!

Elliot!

Elliot…

Elliot, Elliot, ELLIOT—

“Elliot….” His eyes flew open. Carrie's were shut tight. Bo was shaking. They looked like they were going to cry.

“Run, Elliot…”

And then another voice. “Bo? Something…” Bo brought their arms up to cover their ears and pull at their hair. “I think there’s something behind me….” It was Jace. Bo had found him over his parents’ bodies right when everything started, apparently. His house had been broken into. At first, Bo thought he was schizophrenic or something. “Bo? I think there’s something.”

“Elliot, for God’s sake!” After weeks of those words ringing through his head, Elliot would have killed to hear Mitchell say anything else.

Another voice. “I’m so sorry, Bo, I’m sorry…” Rachel. She'd died the same night they’d lost Andy. When they'd needed to be silent, Rachel had sneezed.

"You idiot." That one sounded like it was right outside the door. The sound of his voice sent a shock through him. Bo, Carrie, and the kids had never met his father. Elliot had been with a different group before them. None of them made it. Mitchell saw them all die right in front of him. He'd only gotten away because he hadn't had any voices yet. All five of the rest of the group were in his head from then on.

His dad was haunted by the voice of Elliot's mother before Elliot knew what it was like to hear the voices. Elliot hadn't been careful enough. He hadn't understood.

"We're dead, you idiot." He hated hearing his dad's voice, but not the same way he hated hearing Mitchell's. The shock that went through him when he heard his father was a familiar feeling long before he died. "Keep your mouth shut, idiot." The thing Elliot hated the most about hearing him now was how little he mourned for him. Granted, his father had more than earned his resentment, but every time Elliot heard his voice, he was reminded of how little he had cared when he'd seen him die. That made him feel crazier than the voices in his head ever could.

The voices sounded like they were all still outside of the building. They hadn't figured out where they were yet, and they probably wouldn't as long as everyone stayed quiet.

Carrie coughed. For a second, all of the voices were silent. Then Elliot heard the front door creak open. He stopped trying to steady his breath and tried instead to not breathe at all.

“Idiot… dead… idiot….” The footsteps were wandering aimlessly through the tables.

“Behind me!” Jace seemed to have found his way through the door as well. He walked away from the table they were hiding under, probably toward the kitchen. Bo started to hold their breath as well. Carrie was crying silently. She now had both hands over her mouth.

Mitchell and Rachell walked in together as far as Elliot could tell.

“I’m sorry.”

“Run!”

“I’m sorry, Bo!”

Carrie tried to stifle another cough, but Elliot could see her throat convulse around it and she choked. Her face was going a bright red. Elliot and Bo couldn’t look away as she tried desperately to suffocate herself. Breathing was likelier to kill her than not breathing.

She lasted longer than Elliot thought she would. In fact, she didn’t let go until another voice joined the chorus of the dead surrounding them. “Carrie,” it pleaded, “please! You can’t leave me here!” Carrie’s hands flew from her face as she gulped in a rough gasp of air. Elliot gaped at her in horror. She’d always said she had no voices – and Elliot recognised that one.

Every set of footsteps was now approaching slowly. “That’s… that’s Andy,” Bo whispered.

Supposedly, on the night Andy and Rachel died, the group was split in three. Andy got lost in the dark of the woods. Carrie went and tried to find him but couldn’t.

Supposedly.

Carrie looked helplessly at Bo, then at Elliot. “I’m sorry. I had to get away.”

Bo’s took in a shaky breath. “Did you do it on purpose?” Carrie didn’t answer. Bo nodded solemnly and took a deep breath… before pushing her out.

“No! Please!” Her voice was incredibly rough. She tried to get back under the table, but she was dragged out by something Elliot couldn’t see.

“No! Please!” Andy echoed. Carrie screamed. It sounded so very similar to how Mitchell had screamed.

“That won’t distract them forever,” Elliot whispered in Bo’s ear. “They don’t want her.”

“I know,” they sighed, resigned. Elliot shook his head.

“I know what to do.” As quietly as he could, Elliot reached into his open bag and retrieved, from the very bottom, a pistol.

Bo was looking at him like he was insane. “You can’t kill them, Elliot!” they said a bit too loudly.

“I know.” He tried to smile reassuringly. It felt like a grimace. “But I can distract them.”

“Ell—”

“I’ll… be with Mitchell or something, right?”

The voices were all overlapping now, but Elliot picked out an “Elliot… God’s sake…” from the discord that almost sounded exasperated. His smile came a little easier. He flicked the safety off.

Bo couldn’t seem to track down the words they needed. Elliot ducked under the tablecloth and scanned for his father. He found him instantly. The hair from his head was all gone, but a few grey clumps still clung to his chin. His eyes had liquified quite a while ago, but still they seemed to lock onto Elliot’s. Elliot pointed the gun between them and pulled the trigger. It hit almost exactly where he’d aimed. He looked down at the gun in his hands incredulously. Every decaying face turned to him. Lucky shot, he thought as he walked backwards toward the door. I’ve only shot this thing like six times.

Despite his best efforts, Mitchell caught his sight. The wounds that had been ripped into his face were bloated with dark, dead blood. His eyes were pure black. He looked away but landed instead on Carrie. Her throat was in shreds.

Elliot looked back up at his dad. He fired again. He missed. He turned away from them and ran across the street. They followed him slowly but with singular purpose. He pressed his back against the brick wall behind him. He saw Bo dash out of the restaurant and smiled at Mitchell.

“Run, Elliot….”

“Not this time, baby. I’m all done.”