Eve

Chapter 38 (Part 1)

I feel sick and the acid taste of vomit takes over my mouth instantly. I push it down, bringing my hand to my belly, breathing fast.

Outside, the zombie voices grow quieter by the second, replaced by incoherent grunts.

"Levon..."

"Eve, listen to me," Levon interrupts, and I have to lean closer to hear him. "You're getting out of here."

Slow but surely, the haze inside my head starts fading – growing weaker. That heavy weight in my chest I've been carrying for the last months feels lighter by the second. All around, things seem to regain an original color I didn't remember they had – like the world has been gradually turning sepia, a little each day so I wouldn't notice, and now it's all rushing back to color at once.

I cough and manage to pull myself together. I crouch to Levon's face. "Why did you use it on me, Levon?" I ask, cleaning blood from his cheek. "Why did you do it?"

"I called... Nantucket," Levon continues, his voice scratchier now. Grunt-like. "Last night."

From the stairway door behind us, the murmur of a thousand grunts and footsteps reaches my ears, amplified by the echoing of the narrow path leading up to our floor.

The zombies are in the building.

"The chopper is coming," Levon continues, breathing hard with each word. "They are coming to get you."

"To get us, Levon," I reply. His face is paler than ever now, and his eyes might as well have blood dripping out of them, they're so red.

Levon shakes his head. Outside, the rain batters violently against the window.

"Come on," I say, lifting him up. "Let's go."

Again, Levon shakes his head, setting himself free and sliding back to the floor. "No, Eve."

"I'm not leaving you here, Levon."

"You gotta take... the stairs up to the roof, Eve," Levon whispers. "Before the herd climbs them. Otherwise you're trapped here."

"Then let's get going!" I insist, grabbing him again. He pushes my hand away.

"Nantucket won't take me," he breathes out.

"What are you talking --?"

"They won't take anyone infected," Levon explains. "I talked to them. If they see you with me, they won't even land."

I pause, ignoring the sound of the climbing footsteps out the door. Through the window from above, the distant humming of propellers reaches my ears.

"You have to go, Eve," Levon says, pulling me close by the collar so I can hear him. "Now."

"Levon," I start, ready to protest. "You can't --"

"If you don't go, we both die," he says. "And then I'd just feel stupid for wasting that syringe on you."

The propeller sounds louder and louder. So do the grunts.

"Jesus, is this what zombies sound like to each other?" Levon asks, as the grunts grow nearer. "All they talk about is food. Is it always this annoying?"

"Pretty much," I reply, trying to smile.

"Here," Levon says, raising his hip from the ground and pulling something from his pocket. "I know it's no golden locket, but..."

He opens his hand to me. I grab the little silver metal, raising it up against the light from the window.

Mortal Kombat Pasadena Tournament – 2009 – Participation Medal.

"You told me you won," I reply, looking from the medal to Levon.

"Yeah... sorry about that," Levon replies, with a faint smile. "I wanted you to think I'm cool."

I smile back. "You really don't know what 'cool' means, do you, Levon?"

For a moment, neither of us say anything. The grunts and steps and the propeller sounds all seem to fade away, little muffled by a great distance, even if they're louder than ever now. Even the rain seems to be hammering a little softer out the window.

"Hey, Eve," Levon whispers, forcing his eyes up at me. "Can you do me a solid, before you go?"

I keep my eyes on his. After a moment, I nod slowly.

Levon pulls his gaze from me to the .22 lying a few feet away from him under the metal cart.

"Please," he says, taking my hand. "Quick. Before you go."