Zombie Soap 3: Revolution

Three

Echo

"If you are receiving this .....cast, don't... I repeat, ... seek shelter... at... ..ada facility."

The man over the mic faded in and out the further Echo and Daniel sped away from the government-sanctioned research facility that had acted as her prison.

"... name... John Whitta... ...wife was Patient Zero... ... ... no cure... ...don Benson—"

His words were abruptly drowned by a single gunshot followed by static.

Trembling at what she'd just heard, Echo shifted in her seat and faced Daniel, who cast her a troubled, sidelong glance. "What just happened?"

Daniel returned his focus to the road and gripped the steering wheel. However, his voice revealed no emotion as he answered, "A coup. Benson finally made his move."

Echo decided not to pry further into government conspiracies she didn't understand. All she'd known during captivity was that she'd been infected at some point but didn't die or lose her mind like others who contracted the contagion. At the mercy of cold officials in hazmat suits carrying needles, she'd been alone and afraid as she lay strapped to a table. Comforted by the mystery ghost whom she may or may not have conjured after so many hours with only her thoughts.

She didn't want to think about those horrific memories either, so she grasped at anything to distract herself. "Tell me something about yourself."

"What?" Daniel tilted his head as his eyes flicked toward the corners in her direction.

Echo curled her fingers over the hem of the fleece jacket Daniel had wrapped her in earlier. The minty scent of his soap clung to the fabric, reminding her of spring and waterfalls. "I need you to talk to me. About anything, I don't care." Help me forget for a few minutes.

Daniel reached for her hand and squeezed, spreading warmth through her chilled skin. "Something about myself," he mused, "Okay, I was really into dolls as a kid because my sister made me play. I couldn't tell the boys or they'd have bullied me to no end, but that's how I learned to do hair. By the time I reached high school, all the cheerleaders ended up at my house because word got out that I could style their hair."

Echo grinned as she tried to imagine him being a teenager and effortlessly attracting so many people. "Were there guys too?"

"Yeah, there were two. One of them cried when I informed him I wasn't gay. I felt pretty bad, but he still came over before every game to have his eyebrows done. If I did swing that way though, I would have definitely said yes," he added as an afterthought. "Xander was a good looking dude."

"Hopefully, you liked him for more than his looks," Echo commented, unable to picture Daniel as a Shallow Hal.

Daniel frowned as he kept his gaze on the road while rubbing his thumb across Echo's knuckles. "Xander was a nice person, and I fought off anyone bold enough to bully him for his orientation. Very smart—he became an astrophysicist." Then his voice fell. "I wonder what happened to him."

And there it was again: the reminder that nothing was okay and never would be again. No matter what, their apocalyptic reality would always be at the forefront of their minds.

"I don't remember my family or friends," she lamented, "but I'd like to think they're okay, wherever they are."

She had wondered more than once what had happened to the sister she recalled or even her parents. Were any of them alive? If so, did they think of her too?

"Do you have a favorite color yet?" he asked, drawing her away from her melancholy reflection.

Hmm. That was a good question; everything in her room had been a bright, sterile white. Echo wracked her brain for any memory until an image of a bright pink house key came to mind. The head had been shaped like a kitty with a bow. "I think I liked pink. Is that cliché?"