Death's Awakening

Chapter Twenty-three: Parrish

The sound of her mother's voice filled the room.

Parrish let the beauty of it wash over her. The recording was from her mother's last performance of Madame Butterfly at the Kennedy Center, the year before Zoe was born. Even though they'd had their disagreements, Parrish had always loved to hear her mother sing.

For the first time since her mother's death, the truth of it all came crashing down on her. Tears flowed out of her like a river of regret. She would never get the chance to tell her mother how much she loved her. Or how sorry she was for every time she'd talked back to her, or complained about her obsession with Zoe's music.

Parrish sank down to her knees on the soft carpet of the living room floor.

Sobs shook her body, and her cries mingled with her mother's soaring voice. She'd been so good at pushing everyone away, so scared that if she let them know how much she cared, she'd end up hurt. But now she was alone and she'd never really told her parents how much she loved them.

Un bel di, vedremo levarsi un fil di fumo sull'estremo confin del mare. E poi la nave appare.

Her mother's voice was so pure, so beautiful. It echoed deep inside Parrish's heart.

What was she going to do? She was all alone, and she didn't even know if her father was still alive. Was Zoe still alive? She'd promised her sister she would come for her, but how was she going to get there on her own? She'd been watching the news. The highways were flooded with people trying to get away from the sickness, but the truth was there was nowhere to go. The infection was everywhere.

New York City had to be complete chaos. Everything she'd seen online or in the news about the city said there were car accidents, looting, and even fires taking over parts of the city. How was she going to find her sister in the middle of all that?

She doubled over and let her head rest against the floor as she cried.

Parrish groaned. The sound began deep in her belly and vibrated up through her ribs and her chest. She pounded her fists against the floor and let her sorrow consume her. Nothing would ever be the same again.

A strange, burning coldness on her cheek caught her attention and she sat up suddenly. She raised her hand to her cheek and there it was again. Frozen tears.

Confused, she stood up and walked to the mirror over her mom's piano. It was smashed to hell, but there were a few pieces that were still intact. Parrish stared at her reflection in awe. Her violet eyes looked even more purple than usual. They seemed to glow deep inside and there was frost gathering on her eyelashes. She brushed her fingertip across her lash line and tiny flakes of snow flew off into the air.

Her mother's aria finished, drenching the room in silence. The hairs on the back of her neck pricked up, and Parrish suddenly knew that she wasn't alone.

Slowly, she turned her head to the right. An older man she didn't recognize stood in the doorway of her living room. He was dressed in a soldier's uniform. Camouflage green with thick black boots. His eyes looked funny.

Parrish felt an overpowering urge to flee, but something deep inside calmed her. Her bones hummed with an energy she'd never felt before. Every inch of her body was on alert.

"Can I help you?" she asked. Her voice sounded much calmer than she expected.

The soldier did not answer. He just stared at her with his milky eyes. Drool ran down his chin, and Parrish grimaced. What was he doing in her house? Was he hurt? Did he need help? Something wasn't right about him. After all the recent news about looters, she wondered if he was here to rob her.

Or worse.

"Take what you need and get out of here," she shouted.

The soldier took a step forward. He walked with a weird limp, and Parrish thought it looked like maybe he had a broken ankle. It was pointed at an angle that looked extremely painful, but the soldier didn't even seem to notice. How was he even walking on that thing?

From the corner of her eye, she saw movement on the other side of the room. The front door of her house creaked open. Stepping back, she looked toward the front door and saw another figure lurking in the shadows. The living room had two exits, and now both were blocked by strangers.

The figure in the front hallway stumbled forward. It was a woman. She had grey hair and was wearing a blue nightgown smeared with blood. Unlike the soldier, Parrish recognized this woman as an older lady who lived at the far end of the subdivision, but she couldn't remember her name. She looked bad. Worse than bad.

As the woman staggered into the room, Parrish saw that her mouth was dripping with dark red blood. Her eyes were glazed over with a milky whiteness, just like the soldier. Something was definitely very wrong. Parrish felt her heartbeat vibrating all the way up through her chest and into her throat. She tried to take in a deep breath, but it felt high and shallow.

The soldier took another awkward step forward. His boot caught on the carpet and she heard an awful crack as his ankle turned all the way around. She looked up at his face in surprise, expecting him to react or scream. Instead, he kept moving toward her, dragging his ankle along the carpet.

Parrish felt her stomach lurch, but she swallowed it back. These people looked similar to how her mom had looked the night she died. Deep, hollow pockets with dark circles under their eyes. Dried out lips and skin. But they were different, too. Worse.

Their eyes looked dead and their skin was almost grey except where the dark bruises made it look more black or dark purple.

How were they even walking if they were so sick? Her mother hadn't even been able to lift her head toward the end.

"Do you need help?" she asked, reaching for a large shard of broken mirror on top of the piano. The old woman's head jerked toward her when she moved.

That's when Parrish remembered the sword. Her katana was lying on the floor just out of reach.

The old woman took several steps in Parrish's direction, her arms reaching forward. A low moan escaped from her open mouth, blood dribbling onto the floor. Parrish stepped backward, her back pressed against the wall.

She didn't think she'd be able to get to the sword without getting too close to those things.

"What do you want?" Parrish shouted at them, but they still did not answer. "Get out of here!"

The two strangers ignored her shouts. They staggered forward with slow, awkward steps.

Parrish suddenly realized she was cornered. If she didn't move now, she wouldn't have anywhere to turn. She didn't know exactly what the soldier and the old lady wanted from her, but she knew it couldn't be good. The closer the woman got to her, the more she started to growl. She bared her teeth like a hungry animal, and Parrish got the creepy feeling the woman wanted to bite her.

The soldier took another step, so close now that Parrish could smell his stink. He was foul, like a rotten melon or a dead rat.

He lunged toward her, his jaw coming unhinged.

She screamed.

Now we are really into "The Awakening". /shudders Thank you so much for reading along! New story updates every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. <3