Dead World

By Alice V.




Copyright 2012 Alice V. 

Smashwords Edition

Someday I’ll wish upon a star
And wake up where the clouds are far
Behind me.
Where troubles melt like lemon drops
Away above the chimney tops
That’s where you’ll find me.
-Over the Rainbow by Harold Arlen and E.Y. Harburg

Chapter 1 Without A Home



A vile stench filled the air. Smoke rose from various piles of debris as if a collection of fires has just been snuffed out and the embers still burned a memory of the flames. The flapping of wings and the screeching wail of bats broke the silence. 
The sun started to dip over the horizon, making it's descend and bringing forth the terrible night once again. Dusk in the Dead World is a warning of things to come. Myra knew she had less than an hour to find refuge, a shelter strong enough to keep the demons out but she couldn't give up the search. She couldn't stop now; there was too much at stake. She called out her name.
"Mary." 
Her voice echoed through the forest of the forgotten suburbs, a lonely noise through the hollows of death. She trembled when the dreadful silence answered her call. It’s all that seemed to be answering her these days.
Armed with a knife, two flare sticks, and a grenade that she wasn’t sure worked; Myra continued her cautious patrol through the wasteland of what was once an upper-class suburban paradise. The charred skeletal remains of the once extravagant houses held up the withered and broken roofs that clung on by rusty nails. 
A cold wind brushed through Myra's short brown hair and sent a chill down her spine that stung her bones with a bitter bite: A warning from the dead. 
"Mary."
Her voice sounded alien as it is carried through the deserted street. Strained and cracked, she rubbed her neck in hopes that there was still some vocal power left in her sore throat. Her fever had just recently subsided. She had been sick for a week and even though she was well enough to be on her own, she was still easily lightheaded and dizzy. Her hearing periodically became muffled and clogged with what was left of her illness. 
Somewhere close, the rustling of paper brought her mission to a halt and she stopped to listen to the tearing and crumbling. Removing one of her gloves she took the knife in her hand, ready to defend against whatever savage creature should emerge. 
Steadying her breath while her heart thumped with every step she took closer to the source of the noise. It could just be the wind or maybe a small animal of some kind scavenging for food, or worse yet…something else. It could be one of THEM. Myra carefully calculated each step. The less noise she made the better. She could not afford to get caught because she didn't think she was strong enough to defend her life in her weakened condition. 
The crumbling continued then stopped. The sound of paper tearing followed as she inched closer; her line of vision suddenly beheld a hunched figure in a large jacket. A dirty ball cap covered his face from her view. Myra wanted to sigh with relieve but was it human? Sensing her presence, the figure came to its feet, it was only a child. Alarmed, the child's eyes widened and he darted off in the opposite direction.
"Wait!"
But the child kept running. Myra tried to keep up but the child's maneuverability was greater than her own as he dashed across the hills of garbage and junk. His flight was quick as if he’d scaled the walls of trash numerous times before and knew the mounds of scrap like the back of his hand.
"Stop, I'm not going to hurt you, I only want to help you," she yelled out. Tired and out of breath, Myra couldn't run anymore. The fever had taken so much of her strength and the dizziness took over as she sunk to the floor. She put the knife back in its holster on her belt and put her hand to her heavy head to stop the spinning. 
“Conscious…I must stay conscious,” the words barely escaped her lips in a tired breath.
The ringing in her ears became louder, muffling the tiny footsteps that drew near as she struggled to stay awake. Then she saw the shoes and higher up, his filthy appearance and his young, innocent face. A boy, he is only a boy.
"Are you ok?" A look of worry overcame his dirty face but his sky blue eyes stayed tranquil and reassuring. He’s just a human child. Like her, he’s lost and alone.
"I'm fine," Myra said coming to her feet as her ears began to clear again, "why'd you run away?" 
"I got scared. I thought you were one of THEM," he said looking up at the strange girl.
"Are you the only one out here?" Her eyes scanned the area for anyone else but they were alone.
"Yes. There were others but they turned and now I’m the only one left," emotion took over him as his eyes fill up with tears. Memories that he kept at the back of his mind threatened to overtake him but he pushed them back where they belonged. "Can I go with you, miss? Please don't leave me here. I don’t want to be alone anymore." 
Myra watched the last of the sun dip behind the horizon. Another day spent and she still had not found her little sister. Her heart sank as the kid began tugging on her sleeve. Her sister’s memory was fading away with the sun.
"We need to go miss. It's too dangerous out here at night. They'll come for us and gash out our eyes and eat our kidneys like chicken fingers," He pleaded with her in earnest.
"Who told you that?" Myra said as she snapped back into reality. The sun was gone. The light was going away with each passing second.
"Everyone knows, miss. I've seen it with my own eyes, it happened once to a boy named Jeremy Pickett. He stayed outside too late and they got him.  His screams were heard all the way to China. I saw them tear his body apart from my safe box. It's just on the other block. We can make it if we hurry. It's big enough for the two of us," he grabbed her sleeve again but she shook him off and he looked at her with a perturbed expression. Did she have some kind of death wish or something? What was wrong with this girl?
"No, you come with me. My truck is close by and I know a better place to hide," Myra led the way back to the truck but something was coming, something deathly. Suddenly the moans of the walking dead penetrated from behind them. Perilous cries of the hungry dead reminded her just how vulnerable their situation had just become. They had to go, now!
 "Come on," They turned their walk into a sprint for the truck. Hurried footsteps follow behind them and Myra feared that she'll soon have to fight for both their lives with her meager artillery and strength. But somehow the boy survived two years in the subs; he’s bound to know a thing or two about staying alive. No time to think about that. Myra felt the dizziness come back as she tried to stay focused.
“Not now!” She exclaimed between difficult breaths. The truck with the broken taillight was in the distance and she used all the energy she had left to sprint as fast as she could. The pain in her chest became almost unbearable as she flung open the driver side door, shut it quickly and then started the engine. 
Her young accomplice needed no coaxing and he eagerly took his place in the passenger seat. She locked the doors as the pounding on the windows nearly startled her to veer the truck in the wrong direction. Stepping on the gas the truck took off with alarming speed leaving a trail of dust for their assailants to wallow in. 
Myra waited till the last of the running limp bodies fell into the distance and the dark swallowed them. Their moans of hunger continued to pierce her mind as her racing heart started to slow down to a steady beat.



Chapter 2 Home Sweet Home



"Wow, that was close miss," the kid said looking out the back window at the shadows in the distance.
"Too close," Myra responded thinking about how stupid it was of her to stick around so late. She should know better. She did know better. Two years of running, hiding, and scavenging was enough to make her realize that too close for comfort was just asking to be killed. You could never be too careful and never be too safe. When the sun goes down and night falls the land doesn't belong to the humans anymore, it belongs to THEM.
"So where are we going?" His voice was strong but childlike. His eyes were frail but penetrating. His two demised pupils seen death and yet they were not the eyes of a man; they were the eyes of a child. 
She looked over his tattered jeans, stained with grease and grime, his brown shirt that was once white with the words, "Rock Solid" in blue across his chest. A smile crossed her face and he looked at her with amusement. "What's so funny?" He wanted to laugh but hesitated because he didn't know the joke and Myra suddenly remembered how precious it was to laugh again and how good it felt to smile.
"Nothing kid. What's your name?"
"My name's Chris Johnson but people call me Squints because I look like that kid on that movie, 'The Sandlot.' I don't think I do but maybe if I still had my glasses, I guess," she noticed his big teeth, the freckles around his nose, and his overgrown light brown hair and thought that he did look like the kid from that movie but a much dirtier version.
"Nice to meet you, Chris, I'm Myra Wilcox," she said while shaking his filthy outstretched hand.
“Where are we going?”
"We're heading to a safe point right outside the city.  We'll be safe there. It's barricaded and reinforced with armed guards. So how old are you?"
"I'm twelve. My birthday is in May but I haven't kept track of time since the outbreak so I just say I’m twelve. Do you know what day it is?" Mary was also twelve. Myra thought about the date and that her sister would be thirteen next month. 
Mary wanted to see their old house again for her birthday. Myra promised to take her but now…a shock of pain hit her chest and she took a heavy breath. Another day has passed with no luck but at least she was able to find a survivor. And one survivor was just as important as any other.
“It’s December second, 2023.” He seemed to have calculated in his head his actual age but said nothing. Instead he looked out the window.
"How old are you, miss?"
"Fifteen going on sixteen and you can stop calling me ‘miss.’ I have a name, call me Myra."
"OK Myra, what's a pretty girl like you doing in the subs?" She eyed her cocky companion who grinned back at her. Myra wondered how Chris managed to keep his sense of humor and positive attitude when everyone around him has died. The possibility of being next didn't seem to worry him yet he lived with the risk every day. Chris seemed to live for today, not the past. He was different from Myra and she could see it.
"Looking for my sister. She disappeared last week while I was sick with a fever. As soon as I was strong enough I decided to go look for her. I need to find her. Time is running out and I’m afraid I…”
His expression turned sincere, "sorry to hear that Myra. Wish there was something I can do to help but you're the first person I'd seen since the last of my friends were killed about a month ago. I see them sometimes, walking hunched over, drooling, and hungry. They got those white eyeballs now. You know the kind of eyes that they all have?" she nodded, "but I just hide. I don't want to be like THEM. I'll kill myself before I turn into one of them. I keep a razor blade back at my shelter just in case I get bit. I can slit my wrists with it or even my neck if I need to die quickly. I’ll never let it happen to me." 
They turned onto a dirt road and then onto another road concealed by trees. The leaves and branches slapped the sides of the truck and the automobile jerked and bounced on the rough road. Finally they reached a tall wall with an iron gate. A man on a lookout opened the gate for them as they approached and they entered the fortress of the survivors. 
Tents lined the tall brick walls of the compound. Fire pits burned bright with people surrounding them for warmth while cooking their dinner in black kettles like in medieval times. Chris stared wide-eyed out the window amazed that such a stronghold existed in the Dead World. How did he not know of this place before? If he had, then maybe his friends would still be alive and maybe the last two years of survival wouldn't have been such an inflicting struggle. 
Two buildings were at the end of the enclosure and the truck stopped right in front of one of them. Myra explained that one building is used as a hospital and the other is a school for kids. The place used to be a military base where they once tested missiles. 
Several teachers taught basic grammar and math but nothing past that because they didn't have the means or the right teachers for stuff like algebra and chemistry. Maybe those teachers didn't survive. At least Chris wouldn't have to sit through an algebra lesson and for that he was thankful. "Welcome to the Walled City," Myra declared ironically as she got out of the truck. Chris hopped out as well, his eyes big with awe. A man with dark hair and matching eyes came up to meet them with a look of worry on his long and tired face.
"Where have you been? Did you realize it's been dark for over an hour now?" He said scolding her. Chris wondered if the man was Myra's father and then he wished his father were still alive to scold him too. Lucky!
"Don't get all worked up. I was looking for my sister or did you forgotten that she exists already?" Myra answered back annoyed.
"You know what? I didn't come out here to argue with you," he crossed his arms, "no one told you to take off all day and make me worried sick."
"Well next time you feel the need to worry, just think about that little girl that's out there all alone. She has no place to go, no where to run, and honestly, I can't sleep at night knowing that she's somewhere scared out of her mind. PS. she just happens to be my sister, so if I want to stay out all night long to look for her then damn it I will! You’re not my father Jake!"
Jake sighed; he knew he shouldn’t have come off so strong and she was right. He had no right to tell her what to do even if he felt compelled to take the parental role in absence of her own parents. He always felt responsible for the two girls and loosing Mary only made the pain of his own loss tie a knot in his throat. It was like he lost his own family all over again. 
The memories of the day the outbreak started came back to him. He had just become a father for the first time and he and his wife were ecstatic about being parents. Life was looking up on the young couple who just moved into a new home but on the way to the hospital to pick up his wife and newborn baby girl there seemed to be some kind of riot going on in the streets. 
Everywhere people were looting, running, and screaming. It seemed anarchy was unleashed overnight. Cars were parked in the middle of the road making it impossible to get through. Taking the bat out of the trunk, he abandoned his car to walk the remaining ten miles to the hospital. He seemed to be slipping pas the rioters and no one paid him any mind until he stumbled upon a horror. 
He stopped dead in his tracks unable to move or tear his eyes away from the three people tearing and gnawing on the flesh of their victim. They didn’t look up at him as they hungrily filled their mouths with skin, muscle, and internal organs. The blood was everywhere. Transfixed and disgusted he contemplated avenging the poor victim when a hand came down on his shoulder startling him. 
“Get out of here!” The man looked homeless and smelled like a trash bin with ragged brown hair and a wrinkled face. “They eat the living.” The frightened sound of his voice prompted Jake to forget about the cannibalism and mechanically he turned and started off again in the direction of the hospital. “They eat the living!” the man’s continued saying as he raised his hands towards the sky, “God’s anger has fallen upon the people,” the last of his words were an echo in Jake’s mind.
"I just got a little worried. I know I couldn't be there to help you look for her today but damn it, Myra, please be sensible. Use your head next time. That is all I'm asking of you! Leave a note or something to inform me of where you're going and how long you plan to be gone. At least that way I can find you easier than searching all over Dead World for you." Jake said, standing his ground against the teenager.
"I will. I promise," she said as reassuring as she could, "but, while I was looking for Mary, I found Chris," she gestured towards the boy and Chris took a step closer to them.
"Hello, I'm Jake,” the man said holding out his hand to shake Chris’. His fingernails were filthy beyond belief and Jake wondered when the last time the kid saw a bath was. Jake looked over his dirty clothes and fought the urge to cover his nose. The kid smelled like week-old garbage.
"I'm Chris." 
"Well, now that we're all acquainted, Myra here will show you to your tent and where you can get a bath and a change of clean clothes." Jake said. He looked at Myra who seemed to perceive exactly what he was thinking and took Chris to get cleaned up. 
At dinner, they sat around one of the fires eating a watery broth of chicken stock, old carrots, and finely chopped potato. Chris held his breath with each gulp of the flavorless soup. He was hungry as hell but the soup was the worst he ever ate. He looked at Myra and Jake who sipped from their cups as if the taste didn't bother them one bit. Exhausted, Chris excused himself to bed and cuddled up by himself under the blankets in the tent, finally safe.
"So what's with the kid?" Jake finally asked. 
"I told you. I found him and I just couldn't leave him there. He was the only survivor. He said all the other kids that were with him were killed and turned into THEM.  First the adults, then the kids, this isn't fair," Myra took another sip of broth but the tasteless soup didn't set right in her empty stomach.
"So I take it you're going out again tomorrow?"
"Yes, as soon as the sun rises. I need to make the best out of every waking hour. I have to find her Jake. She's all I have left. Both our parents were turned and our family is gone. I need my sister back, Jake. She means more to me than anything." Jake nodded knowing all too well the pain in Myra's heart. 
He lost his wife and newborn daughter. Both were turned and he made the most heart-wrenching decision to kill both of them with his own hands. It was a mercy killing so they could die instead of walking the earth as cannibal predators without consciousness. He felt a strong sense of obligation to Myra. He wanted to comfort her and hold her as if she were his own child.
 He searched her hazel eyes earnestly but knew there was nothing he could say or do to deter her from stepping out into the danger of the outside world again. The first days of Mary’s disappearance, Jake went looking for her with no success while Myra lay unconscious during her sickness. He went out looking for Mary every day until Myra got better. Unwilling to cope with the loss, Myra insisted on continuing the search for Mary but deep down inside Jake had a feeling she was already dead.
"Then you will need this," he pulled out a handgun from his pocket and handed her a glock with duck tape around the handle. The glock looked like it was falling apart and dirty from constant use yet worked just as well as the day it was made. Even this was a prized possession in the dead world. 
She took the gun into her hands and looked it over. "I can't take this. These things are too hard to come by and I'm just a kid. I don't even know how to shoot a gun," She tried to give it back but Jake put his hands up in protest.
"Now I know guns are far and few between but you're going to need better protection out there. It's too dangerous and you could get killed or even worse, turned. I'll show you how to use it without using any of the bullets. Just make sure that if you're going to shoot it, you make that bullet count. There's six left and that's it. I'm sure we can probably find more in one of the cities but at the same time I doubt it."
Myra threw her arms around Jake's neck in gratitude. "Thank you."
Her embrace warmed his heart and again he thought about the day he went to the hospital for his wife and child. Everywhere was death and chaos and the closer he got to the hospital, the faster his heart beat and urged him to hurry. Inside was no different from the streets. The hallways were in shambles with dead bodies, blood, and THEM. He fought his way through, swinging his bat and making contact with the heads of the living dead. Their skulls cracked against the wood bat as the weight of his swing brought them down. One by one he took them on until he got to the elevator.
 His wife and child were on the second floor and he prayed to God that they were alive and safe; waiting for him in the room he last saw them in. The second floor was quiet and so unlike the ground floor of the hospital but he approached the room with caution as he headed down the deserted hallway. The unsteady repetition of his beating heart was the only sound besides his footsteps.
 He held the bat tight and ready to strike as he reached the room that was his wife’s. Nothing could have prepared him for the horror of his wife’s white-eyed star, her outstretched arms and her colorless face as she dared to attack him. He knew at that instant that his wife was no longer and he brought the bat up high and struck her on the head until she fell to the floor. In the room the baby started to cry but it wasn’t the cry of a newborn infant girl. It was the cry of an animal in pain, an inhumane being whose voice was stricken with hunger. Jake’s eyes filled with tears as he approached the pink bassinette and looked upon the death-like face of a monster screaming to taste his blood.



Chapter 3 A Constant Horror



When the sun rose, so did Myra. She quietly dressed and combed her long hair into a braid to keep it out of the way. Careful not to wake Chris who still slept, dreaming his first dreams of uninterrupted slumber, she slipped outside and made her way to the truck. The entire community was still snoozing peacefully in the land of Nod. Even Jake seemed to still be asleep in his tent, a few feet from hers. A small voice behind her nearly startled her but when she turned around to see who it was, Chris stood wiping the sleep from his eyes.
"Where are you going?" He asked between a yawn and a stretch.
"To find my sister. She's out there somewhere and I need to find her before the monsters do." She threw a backpack in the bed of the truck.
"Can I come with you?" 
"No. Stay here. Out there is no place for a kid. At least you'll be safe here and when Jake wakes up he can show you around."
"You're a kid too, you know! You're not that much older than me. So why can't I come with you? I can help. I've lived out there for two years; I think I know a thing or two about survival." Myra had to admit, he made a point with his persistence and she could use the company so she gave in.
"All right but you have to do what I tell you and you can't get in the way," she said in a serious and adult-like tone. Chris nodded and smiled.
"Aye Aye Captain!" He said as he ran around the other side of the truck and jumped into the passenger seat. Myra smiled, shook her head, and got in.
"You're a funny one, you know that?" Still smiling she drove them out of the safety of the walled community and back onto the dirt road that lead to the main highway. 
"Yeah, my mom used to tell me that I was a character. I use to always make her laugh. Ever watch the Little Rascals?"
"I've seen a few episodes."
"I can do a kick-ass Alfalfa impersonation. Watch," Chris used the side mirror and a little bit of spit on his fingers to twist a piece of hair at the back of his head so that it stood strait up, he hastily parted his hair down the middle so that it fell to the sides. He took a deep breath and started to wail out a tune in a high-pitched voice with a slight accent, "The farmer in the dell…the farmer in the dell. High ho the merry oh the farmer in the dell," Myra laughed. Pleased with himself Chris recited the same lines again but this time with added enthusiasm before bursting out in laughter.
"Who taught you how to drive?"
"Jake did. I learned last year. Right after people started dying. My parents died too. I ended up at the Walled City with my sister Mary and Jake took us under his wing. He treated us like we were his daughters. I think he missed his wife and little baby and that’s why he took a liking to us. He doesn’t say much about them but I know he loved them very much." Sadness overcame both of them as they thought about their own private demise.
"Did your parents…turn?" Chris asked in a small voice as he looked out at the road ahead. He didn't want to make eye contact when he was asking such a personal question that he was sure he already knew the answer to.
"Yeah. I woke up one morning to scratching at my bedroom door and it was my mom. She didn’t look like herself though. She had the white eyes and she tried to grab me. I don't remember how I fought her off but I did. I grabbed Mary from her room and we ran and ran until we couldn't run anymore. I was hurt, confused, but I had to be strong for Mary, you know?" 
Flashbacks of those wee hours of the morning of her pale-faced mother with black nails, foaming mouth, and white eyes brought shivers down her spine. Somehow she gathered the strength to throw her dead mother off her and ran out of the room to her sister's room.
 Together they made it downstairs only to find their father eating the family dog in the living room. He didn't look up at them as they past but Myra knew he suffered the same fate as her mother who was trapped in her bedroom, pounding and scratching on the door. One thing about THEM that she noticed was that while they constantly hunger for flesh and can be very dangerous, they're not very bright. Myra could only assume that her mother was still trapped in her bedroom to this day or maybe she got lucky and finally died for good.
"My mom ate my dad," Chris started, "I heard him screaming from the bedroom and when I ran in there all I saw was blood all over the bed and my mom ripping through his stomach with her teeth. He told me to run and hide. He told me to get as far away from there as I could and so I did. I was so scared at first. Everywhere I went there were people eating other people, screaming, crying, babies left in the street to be eaten or to die of starvation. It was a nightmare. Now I wish I would have stopped to save some of those babies but maybe it wouldn’t have mattered. Maybe they would have died anyway. After weeks of running and hiding and scavenging for food I met up with the gang and we all became friends. There were twenty of us kids at first and we had our own shelter, our own food, but little by little kids started dying. Later those dead kids were hunting us until there was no one left but me." 
They both sat in silence watching the stretch of road before them and the deserted houses with overgrown brush, busted windows, and flame scorched walls. It was like a silent understanding was passing between them, a sense of respect for each other. In a world gone chaotic, Myra found a dedicated ally in the boy named Chris. A bond and a trust were forming. Their common horror became the thread that would hold them together.
"We're gonna stake out the lower district today. I haven't checked there yet for her and it's one of the few places she might be." Chris' eyes widened and he swallowed hard with fear.
"The lower district? What makes you think she'd go there? That place is a bigger dump than the subs are and it's crawling with ten times more of THEM than anywhere else."
"Can I tell you a secret?" Chris nodded and Myra took a deep breath. "When I was sick with a deadly fever, the walled city's physician said that there was a 50/50 chance I'd make it because we had no medicine. Mary took it upon herself to sneak out one day in the early morning to find a special kind of root that we’ve heard only grows in certain areas. This root is extremely rare yet extremely potent with healing power. There are only two places I know of where it grows: the basements in the Subs and the sewers in the lower district. Mary wasn't in the Subs yesterday and you said you've been the only one left for a while now, right?" He nodded again but she could see the fear in his eyes, "that leaves only one other place to look."
“So what kind of root is it?”
“I’m not sure. It could just be a story but the story was kind of specific on the details of what it looks like so I’m thinking it’s a real root.”
The exit off the interstate was marked by a blood stained sign for Callaway Boulevard which ran the entire length of the lower district, right smack into the heart of where the fragile sky scrapers stood, abandoned, desolate, and crumbling into a forgotten heap of dust, concrete, and steel.
 Chris looked around intensely for any sign of life, eyeing the openings of each building and hoping to God that they weren't going to get out of the truck and then Myra pulled over to the side of the road and announced that they had to walk. "The road is cut off up ahead. That big earthquake we had a few months ago tore the street right in half. There's no way we'd be able to drive through it."
Removing the backpack from the bed of the truck, she took out the gun from one of the compartments and gave Chris the scoop. "Alright, this place is very dangerous. We need to stay out of the buildings at all cost. They're dark and there's probably thousands of those flesh eaters in them. No matter what you hear or see, do not go inside. Do you understand?"
"Yeah but I don't like this place. Are you sure about this?”
"I don’t like it either so let’s hurry up so we can get out of here ok?"
"OK." Chris took a deep breath in hopes it would prepare him for the worst. Myra handed him her knife while she held the gun tightly in one hand.
"Let’s go." Cautiously they made their way towards the center of what use to be one of the biggest and most notorious cities in the states. This place was known for wild nightclubs, 24-hour restaurants, and extravagant shops. It was a place to see and be seen, like Rodeo drive or Hollywood and Vine. Now, it was nothing more than a wasteland. As they walked, a painful moan came from one of the buildings. 
They stopped in their tracks and listened.
"What is that?" Chris whispered. The sound of infrastructure giving way broke their concentration as they watched in horror as a nearby tower swayed on its fragile beams.
"Oh no. Run!" 
She pushed Chris and they start running for their life. A large shadow hovered over them as more cries sprung out from the toppling building as floor after floor began crashing down. Windows shattered while debris littered the sky nearly missing their plight. "Hurry, we got to get out of here!" Myra yelled again. 
Heart pounding, limbs racing, feet hitting the pavement as fast as they could run yet they were still in the shadow of the falling building. Ducking into a doorway, Myra watched as the building let out one last moan of pain before falling on top of the building they just took refuge in. A muffled scream choked up on her throat as she felt hands on her shoulders, pulling her deeper into the dark sanctuary they dared to save their lives in. Darkness followed as the outside world was blocked by a concrete wall formed by the fallen building.



Chapter 4 Fear is in the Eye of the Beholder



The world became quiet once again and with the light blocked out and their only way of escape sealed off by brick and steel. Myra listened to the rhythm of their breath. For the first time since her sister disappeared, fear truly gripped her and Myra felt an urge to cry. Cry to God for help, cry out and hope that someone somewhere could hear them and come to their rescue but deep down inside, she knew that wasn't possible. No one knew where they were and no one would come. She left a note for Jake as promised but even if he came looking for her he’d be looking in the wrong direction. She didn’t tell Jake she was planning on going into to city.
 Chris held on to her sleeve and she could tell by his irregular breathing that he was scared too. Trapped in darkness Myra fumbled through the front pocket of her backpack for the flashlight but found the lighter first. She whispered in Chris' ear.
"What ever happens, don't scream. Don't make a noise. I'm going to use my lighter to find a way out for us but you have to be quiet. We can't wake THEM if they are here." 
Chris nodded but was too frightened to say anything. Sensing that he was agreeing with her, she flicked on the lighter and as the dim glow illuminated the large warehouse-like room. They realized the horror that surrounded them. In every corner, every inch of the large room was bodies of the undead. Standing in huddles, asleep in an upright position with placid and warped faces, their eyes remained closed. 
“I don’t know how that crash didn’t wake them up but I guess we should be thankful they’re still asleep,” she whispered in his ear, “at least now we have a shot of getting out of here alive.”
Myra looked around for open space, anything they can use to get past THEM without touching any of THEM. Her situation was worse than she thought and Chris tightened the hold he had on her sleeve until the knuckles of his fists became white. Movement in one of the huddles of rotting flesh and twisted limbs created an opening, a path to a possible freedom. Carefully, one foot in front of the other, Myra started to lead Chris through the repugnant smells of infected bodies.
 Chris wanted to bury his face in her sleeve, close his eyes, and hope that God would send His angels to save them. His eyes darted wildly, keeping step with Myra and watching frantically for the white of their eyes. He nearly cried out in horror, as they passed a girl no older than he with flesh hanging off her face, bruised bite marks on her arms that left the bloodied bones exposed and poking out of her rotting skin. Half her skull was missing and her brain severally lacerated. His throat choked up and he felt his meal from the night before coming up and sitting right at the spout of his throat. 
"Please hurry." He whispered to Myra who still cautiously guided them through the maze of living carcass with strategic steps.
"I can't." She replied with an equally low tone but she could see a door up ahead. A door she could only hope led outside or through some corridor where the dead didn't walk. The light danced whenever her breath was just a little too much and cast shadows over the gruesome faces of death. The top of the lighter was getting hotter and her thumb started to hurt from the pressure she exerted to keep the fire going. 
"Just a little further, come on, you can do this! Chris needs you, Mary needs you." Her mind continued to race as they neared closer and closer to the door. Their freedom was just within reach when her foot slipped on a bottle and she quickly lost her balance. Chris tried to steady her but he wasn’t strong enough and she fell hard on her bottom, knocking one of the sleeping hunters out of their slumber. The echo of the rolling bottle came to a halt as the mutilated body fell sharply against another and another, creating a domino effect of distressing howls as the creatures woke up.
 "Chris, I think we better run."
Both of them darted for the door as arms leaped out in panic, grabbing at their clothes and trying to claw their way through their flesh. Myra struggled to keep the flame lit long enough for them to get past the hungry beasts as Chris stabbed wildly at decaying limbs that his knife sliced through with ease, cutting through brittle bones and decomposing flesh. Hectically swinging the blade from body to body and panting for breath in the damp and crowded quarters of the dark room, the fire went out and Myra struggled to ignite the lighter once again.
"Hurry!" Chris shouted as he sliced blindly through the air, making contact with wailing bodies that continued to pull at his clothes. "I can't see anything. We need to get out of here!"
"I'm trying!" Myra shouted back as the lighter flickered several times before the flame finally caught. Right in front of them was the door. She swung the door open and pulled Chris inside the empty stairwell. No time to think if they should go up or down, she chose to go up. At least this way they'd end up on the roof where the sun could protect them instead of inside a death trap of another room with no escape. 
Their legs carried them two steps at a time with the hungry beasts trailing right behind them, falling over each other in their pursuit of the fleeing prey. Higher and higher they ran up the stairs. The muscles in their legs started to ache as the sweat dripped off their young faces. Finally at the top of the stairwell Myra pushed the door open and they both collapsed onto the hot rooftop with gratitude. The moans and cries stopped at the door as it closed behind them.
"I think we're safe for now," Myra said panting the words as she looked up at the clear blue sky, "they can't come up here while the sun is up, their bodies will burn if they come outside."
Chris sat up and still trying to catch his own breath he said, "Well we need to think of something. The sun can't protect us for long. It's going to get dark and when it does, those things know where to find us."
Myra got to her feet and made her way towards the edge of the rooftop and looked out. One side of the building was crushed by the one that recently collapsed and the stairwell that once was, was now in shambles. She went to another ledge and looked down at the empty street below filled with tumbleweeds, cracked pavement, and dusty automobiles that haven't moved in over two years. 
After checking that side, she moved to another looking for a way down. If only the satellites still orbited the earth, she could make a cell phone call to Jake for help but that was wishful thinking and she'd done enough of that for one day. Still there was no solution on this side of the building either and making her way towards the last edge she could see their truck down the street, parked oddly in the middle of the road. She put her hand up to shade her eyes. At least she still had the gun and if she had to use it to save both their lives later-she would. In the distance, not too far off from where the truck sat in its solitary spot, she caught a glimpse of a person running across the street.
"Hey!" She shouted waiving her hands but her voice was either too low or they just didn't care as they ran out of sight, their hurried path blocked out by one of the extremely damaged skyscrapers. 
"Who is it?" Chris said running up to her and trying to catch a glimpse of the mystery person Myra called out to.
"I'm not sure. I think it was a woman but kind of hard to tell from so far away. Doesn't matter anymore though, they didn't hear me. Did you check out that side of the roof?"
"Yeah. There's a rusty old ladder there but doesn't look like it goes all the way down," Chris took her to the ladder and shook it a little with both hands to test the durability of the rusted set of steps, "looks like it stops several floors down but I can't really see from here how far down it goes or if there's another ladder or something we can use to climb down."
"That's ok. I got this," Myra removed her backpack and handed it to Chris, "be careful with that because the gun is in there."
"You're not going down there are you?"
"Well one of has to and like you said, it's eventually going to get dark and when it does, we're dinner and I'm not ready to get eaten," Myra threw one leg over, holding onto the hot bars of the ladder and carefully started to climb down. "There's a platform here," she yelled up at Chris whose head was barely visible over the edge. Stepping onto the rickety surface, the platform swayed a little under her weight.
"Come on down," within seconds she could see Chris clinging to the bars and slowly easing his way down. Right before he reached the platform, Myra started to make her descend on the other ladder. Chris followed right behind her and when they both reached the sidewalk Myra looked towards the building she saw the person run towards.
"That wasn't so hard." Chris said patting the dust off his pants.
"Yeah right, you were sweating like a baby up there," Myra said teasing him as they started to walk back to the main street where they left the truck.
"Was not. I admit I was pretty scared in that dark room with all those flesh eaters but I wasn't scared climbing down no stinkin' ladder. I was born climbing trees and hanging from the tallest monkey bars at school so I ain’t afraid of heights."
"Ha, ain’t, ain’t a word!" He scrunched his nose at her.
"Well if it aint then why did you just use it then?"
"Because you did first. Come on, I want to see where that person went." 
"Are you sure? I mean, haven't you had enough for one day? We almost got killed and you want to go chasing after people that might not even be people. Besides, I'm hungry and we didn't bring any food with us. I say we go back. Re-strategize. Get something to eat. Then come back another day."
"Turn around," she commanded and unzipped the top zipper of the backpack. "Here," she said handing him a carrot. He eyed the vegetable with skepticism.
"Um, this is a carrot," he said holding and examining it like carrots were foreign objects to him.
"Wow, you know your veggies. I'm impressed Chris, keep this up and we'll have to make you a scholar."
"Ha ha," he replied sarcastically and bite into the crunchy carrot. "Not bad and to think I never liked to eat vegetables when they were cooked and here I am eating one raw and actually liking it. What is the world coming to?"
Myra laughed, "Probably the end, this is a dead world after all." He smiled and started to take tiny rapid bites.
"What's up doc?" He blurted out and started nibbling again on the carrot like a rabbit in which Myra couldn't help but laugh and soon Chris did too.
Holding onto her stomach she replied, "Come on, enough with the screwing around. We gotta hurry up before it gets dark and Jake has another heart attack because we stayed out so late. I think that lady ran this way." Rounding the corner Myra looked down the empty street.
"Maybe she left." Chris said between bites as he finished eating.
"Damn!" Myra had to make today count. No matter what, she had to find a lead to her sister's whereabouts and perhaps the person they saw on the roof knew just where she was. "Hello," she called out. Her voice echoed through the deserted street. They walked on and she called out again and again but only silence returned her efforts.
"I don't know Myra, maybe we should turn back. If we leave now we might be able to cover another section of the city before it gets dark."
"No Chris, there is no other section to look. Mary needed come here to find the root for me. It's one of the only two places it grows. If she's not here then that's it, I've lost my sister and I have nothing! Everyone I ever loved is gone. My parents are dead and now my sister? No, I won't accept that. I can't accept that!" Her eyes started to swell with tears that immediately rolled down her face. She wiped them away with her dirty hands but it left her face with smudgy streaks. 
"Hey, don't cry. We'll find her. Even if she's not here we can still keep looking for her. Just because the root she needed was here doesn't mean that she still is. We just have to stay positive and never give up." Chris said trying to keep optimistic.
"I know. I just wish that this was some kind of nightmare and I'm going to wake up any minute now and be back in my house with my sister and my parents. I just wish that all this pain would go away and that someone would just kill all those animals. I want everything to be normal again but no! There are monsters running around at night eating everyone and the people that get eaten turn into monsters too."
The tears start to flow freely and Myra sniffled in between sobs as Chris put a comforting arm around her. "It's just so hard. It's so hard to wake up every morning to come out here and look for her, knowing that I won't find her."
"Hey, you found me."
"No, we just happened to cross paths."
"Isn't that what finding is all about? Hoping to cross paths?" She wiped her tears again, "and you saved my life back there. If it wasn't for you pulling me into that staircase I'd be deader than a doornail right now," A small chuckle escaped her mouth and Chris smiled. She was happy he was there to keep her positive and hopeful. Somewhere Mary needed her. Somewhere Mary sat waiting for her big sister to rescue her. She had to stay focused.
"Well you're the one with the fancy knife skills," she replied wiping the last of her tears away.
"Oh yeah, did you see that? I was like Luke Skywalker with a knife. I got mad jedi knife skills."
"Whatever," Myra said rolling her eyes with a smile, "this way." They rounded the corner and started walking on the street instead of the cracked and raised sidewalk. 



Chapter 5 Mary of the Dead



"That lady turned down here," Myra said. She called out again and they both listened intensely to the sound of the wind rushing through a broken window then the sound of footsteps echoing behind them.
"Can I help you?" Stringy blond hair fell in oily strands around her face. Her dark blue eyes encased in black rings from lack of sleep, dry flaky lips, and a poor attire of torn jeans, a faded brown jacket, and rainbow-colored beanie on her head made her look like she just crawled out of bed. She took a drag from her cigarette and Myra noticed her red chipped fingernails.
"Um yeah," Myra cleared her throat after realizing that she was starring at the woman. "My name is Myra and this is Chris. We're looking for my sister Mary. She looks like me but shorter, have you seen her?"
A cloud of smoke escaped the woman's thin lips and a little came out her long nose. "Nice to meet cha both but I'm afraid there aren't any kids here. At least, none that is still alive anyway."
"Are you the only one here?" Chris asked. The woman eyed him; the crow’s feet intensified around her eyes. Once upon a time the woman might have been pretty but the wrinkles on her face told the tale of a hard life of living day to day in the Dead World.

"No, there are two others inside the safe house. Come on, I'll take you there." She started walking.
"Wait!" Myra blurted out, "I don't mean to be rude but we do have a home. It's not that far from here and you and your friends can come with us if you'd like."
"Love to dear but someone's gotta stay behind and kill off all the baddies. Did you come from the walled city?"
"Yes," Myra declared happily but the smile quickly faded, "I've been there since the outbreak started. I was taken there with my sister whose recently gone missing."
"Well I'm sorry to hear about your sister, Myra. You did say your name is Myra right?" She nodded. "I thought so. Well how ‘bout the two of you stay for a light lunch, meet the others, and if we find your sister, I'll make sure to find you at the walled city."
"That would be wonderful. Thank you but I didn't catch your name."
"My name? Well once upon a time my name was Rachel Mitchell but now I just go by Sphinx. It's a code name I started using when we started running these co-ops to destroy the scavengers. There are several other sects located within twenty miles from here and we usually get together for a fireworks show."
"Fireworks?" Chris' eyes widen with interest.
Sphinx smiled, "that's just what we call it when we're lighting THEM up with grenades and gunfire. It's a beautiful sight but ammo and firepower is running lower while their numbers are increasing.” 
They followed Sphinx to a building whose windows were barricaded with steel plates, a heavy deadbolt door, and outdoor video cameras that made the old ammunition shop a fortress to be reckoned with. Inside they were introduced to two men. The tall dark linebacker type with the baldhead and dark eyes was named Red Eye. His deep voice and big hands nearly frightened Myra who hesitated to shake his hand. He wore a black tank top, cargo jeans, and black boots. The shorter tanned man with the dark brown hair and matching moustache was Groundhog.
"What brings you kids out here to no-man's land?” Red Eye asked as he sat in a chair with one leg propped up on the table full of ammunition. He continued to sharpen a knife with a stone. Sphinx grabbed some water bottles from the fridge and handed them to Myra and Chris in which they were astounded to see that plastic water bottles still existed.
"We're looking for my 12 year-old sister. She went missing a few days ago and I think she came here." Red Eye stopped sharpening.
"You mean to tell me that a kid came out here by herself?" Red Eye could scarcely believe it. Even he didn't dare venture out at night in this neighborhood. The risk of ending up as dinner was far too great and he'd seen too many people eaten and turned into THEM.
"Yes but I didn't know she left. I was sick. So very sick and I think she left to find a healing root to help me. She didn't tell anyone when she left and by the time I realized she was gone, I was coming out of my fever. As soon as I was good enough to go out, I went looking for her and that's how we ended up here."
"The cuttle root?" Red Eye asked cocking an eyebrow.
"Yes. That's the one." Myra took a drink of water.
"That root grows in the sewer. Kind of like a mushroom because it grows in damp, dark places but it's a plant. If your little sister came here for that root by herself, well, I think the chances of you finding her alive are slim to none." Groundhog declared honestly but at the same time tried to keep in mind the sensitivity of the issue. Last thing he wanted was to make a kid cry but the reality could not be avoided-that he was sure of.
 Myra looked down at the half-empty water bottle, contemplating the possibility that her sister could have met a fatal end. It was true Mary could already be dead. She could also be one of THEM without Myra even knowing it and if Mary were turned, would she even recognize her little sister's dead face? The alarm in Myra's head sounded off and the fear in her heart threatened to break free and take over but she was way past letting it consume her. The last time she let fear overwhelm her, she almost died at the hands of one of THEM.
"It doesn't matter. I need to retrace her steps. I need to know where my sister is, even if she's dead. I need to know."
Sphinx looked at Groundhog and Red Eye and then at Myra who sat bravely, taking the doubt of the group in stride. To Sphinx, the teen with the iron will was making a dangerous mistake but she saw something in her that reminded Sphinx of her youth and her own will to survive.
“Alright, I’ll take you to the safest manhole where the roots grow but we can’t stay long in there. Those things haunt the sewers as well and bullets are scarce.”
“Wait a minute, Sphinx!” Groundhog’s voice was filled with alarm, “did you hit your head somewhere, loca? You’re crazy to go down there.”
“He’s right. We can’t allow any of you to go. It’s too dangerous.” Red Eye chimed in with authority. Sphinx agreed and it was clear to Myra that they meant to keep them from exploring the dangerous sewer.
Not wanting to argue the point and seeing that she was running out of time by taking a glance at her wristwatch, Myra decided it was time to make an exit. It was time to take her fate in her own hands once again. “Yeah, I can see what you mean about it being too dangerous. We almost got stuck in a warehouse full of those things earlier and I really don’t want that to happen again. Thank you for the water, Sphinx but I think we better get back before our guardian starts looking for us. We were only suppose to be gone until lunchtime and it’s past that already,” she rose to her feet and Chris followed suit, “It was nice meeting you all.”
“Yeah, nice meeting you,” Chris mimicked. He wondered what came over Myra and what made her change her mind but it didn’t matter so much because he was relieved that they weren’t going down into the labyrinth of a stinky and deadly sewer.
“Hey, come back and see us sometime, during the day of course and stay out of the sewer. You’ll thank me later, kid.” Groundhog said. Red Eye waved good-bye and Sphinx walked them to the door.
“I’ll send word to the other sects about your sister. Maybe they’ve seen her. She could even be with one of them. You never know these days, especially when we no longer have things like cell phones and computers to communicate with.”
“Thanks for all your help Sphinx.”
“Anytime. Just stay out of trouble, ok?” Myra nodded and they started retracing their steps back to the truck around the block. Turning the corner, something caught Myra’s eye and the round metal disk in the ground intrigued her.
“What are you doing? The truck is this way.”
“Just one second. I want to see something.” She bent over the manhole cover that was partly lifted over the hole and attempted to push the heavy metal plate out of the way.
“I thought you said we weren’t going down there.”
“I did.” A gasp escaped her as she used all her strength to shove the plate out of the way. The metal scraped against the ground revealing the hollow below. She peered into the dark black hole. “Give me a flashlight. There’s one in the backpack.”
Hesitantly, Chris dug into the backpack and handed her the flashlight. “I don’t think this is a good idea. At least we should go back and get Jake.”
“We don’t need Jake, we’re doing just fine on our own. Besides, I have a gun,” she said confidently flashing the light into the dark pit.
“Yeah but you don’t even know how to use it. Have you ever shot anything before?”
“No but if I need to, I will.” She came to her feet, “I can’t see that well down there. Give me a sec and I’ll be right back.”
“Are you nuts? Didn’t you just hear what those people said? Those things are down there too and they’ll eat you!” He said raising his voice with concern.
“I’ll be fine.”
“No you won’t. And if you have a death wish, at least you could teach me how to drive before you kill yourself. I’m not going to get stuck here. I’d rather be back at the walled city where it’s safe instead of out here watching you play tag with THEM.” He crossed his arms across his chest to imply his opposition. He was serious, for once. A screeching sound echoed out of the dark pit followed by a hiss. The sounds of a struggle, water splashing, bones breaking, and then silence followed.
“What the hell was that?” Myra whispered. They both looked at the manhole. 
“Sounded like a cat.”
“More like a cat fighting for life.”
“Do you think those things eat animals?” Chris looked at her with concern.
“Of course, they eat anything.” Myra said without taking her eyes off the eerie abyss.
“Well, that’s the end of that then. I guess we’re not going down there anymore. Let’s go.” Turning to leave Myra spotted the faintest flash of brown hair from the dark catacombs of the sewer hole in which the light barely penetrated a solitary glow. “Wait. I think I just saw something.” 
Mary.
Kneeling down and peeking into the darkness, Myra strained her eyes to see. “What was it?”
“Shhh…” she cut him off, listening intensely to the sound of footsteps making contact with water. The splashes become faint as they echoed through the cylindrical room of the sewer. “Whatever it is, it’s running away. Someone is down there. Come on.”
Not waiting for Chris to protest, Myra put one careful foot after the other on the slimy ladder. Holding tight to the cold and wet steel, she jumped off the final step and landed firmly on the slimy pavement. The scent of human waste was like vapor, twirling and twisting in a sea of goop. Unidentifiable lumps slowly moved by with broken bottles and milk cartons down the stream of junk. She held her nose in disgust, as she tried not to breathe in the disgusting odors that still lingered underground nearly two years after humanity was lost.
“Myra, are you still alive?” Chris hovered over the manhole on hands and knees.
“Of course I’m still alive, you’re looking right at me.” She shined the flashlight through the murky atmosphere. The glow reached the other side of the hazardous waste river and created a soft radiance against the wall. She moved the light towards the direction of the fleeting footsteps but only heard the sound of water dripping off the ceiling into the pool of feces. The long narrow walkway that lined the river was void of all movement. Looking behind her, the view was much the same. 
“Um, I don’t hear anything anymore. You should come back up,” Chris suggested. His pulse quickened and his hands perspired on the pavement, “It smells like shit down there.”
“Yeah it does.”
“Hey, where are you going?” Chris leaned over and watched Myra take a few steps into the sewer.
“Not too far. I gotta see if that was someone.” The brown hair looked like Mary’s. Long, strait, and even. It was just a half a second that she seen it but she knew her sister’s hair anywhere. Didn’t she? Feeling antsy and a little obligated, Chris started to climb down.
“Hey look, did you see that?” 
Chris followed the flashlight down the grimy passageway.
“What?” Holding his nose he tried breathing through his mouth but the taste of feces on his tongue made him resort back to breathing through his nose. Maybe it was better to smell it than to taste it.
“Someone’s down there.” Myra said walking carefully while clinging to the damp wall. Nothing more than a thin walkway separated her from the river of waste. The flashlight’s glow barely penetrated where she saw someone peek out from the corner but as they neared, the light began to grow, revealing an intersection of unknown possibilities.
“I’m scared. I don’t like it down here,” Chris whispered, “It’s creepy and it stinks like my little brother’s diapers use to stink.”
“Shhh…don’t talk so much. I need to listen for movement.” Myra whispered back. Nearing the bend, Myra stretched her arm out to shine the light a little further. Trying to peek past the corner without actually approaching it, her arm began to shake as the light danced on the walls and illuminated the darkness. Her heart began to race with anticipation and fear. 
The shadow emerged and as it moved closer to the light the outline of a child began to form. Myra held her breath, unable to move as Chris clung closely behind her with wide eyes adjusting to the darkness and trying desperately to see the person in the distance. 
Straight brown hair caught the light, stringy and uncombed. A pasty white face with two large white orbs came into view as the figure neared closer to them. A shriek cry emerged from the parched, dry lips while outstretched arms covered in a ragged pink sweater pointed a finger at them. Myra choked back a scream that came out as a weak, muffled cry while Chris tightened the hold on her jacket.
“Mary?” Myra’s voice cracked. The pallid figure darted towards them, open mouth salivating as the flashlight dropped from Myra’s shaking hands.
“Run! Let’s get out of here!” Chris yelled as the splashes of water indicated the start of a chase. They were now being pursued; hunted.
“Hurry, go faster!” Myra cried out holding onto his sleeve with one hand and keeping close to the damp wall with the other. Their hurried footsteps echoed throughout the sewer, as the sound of splashing water seemed to increase with an enthusiastic and hungry party gathering in pursuit of them. 
Moans bounced off the walls and they quickened their pace as the light of the manhole came into view again. Chris jumped up onto the first step as Myra panicked behind him. His foot slipped and he nearly fell on top of her but quickly regained his footing and climbed out of the hole. Following closely behind him, he took Myra’s hand in his to pull her out but something started to pull her back in.
“Don’t let go! Please!” She cried. The tears spilled out of her eyes as she clung on to his jacket for dear life. The tight grip on her leg wouldn’t budge and she kicked her perpetrator hard making contact with a face, a shoulder, an elbow. She continued to kick with her free leg and scream for her life as Chris continued to pull until finally the hunter in the darkness let go. 
Scrambling into Chris’ arms and back into the shelter of the sun, the moans of the hungry pursuers faded back into the darkness of the sewer. Their chests rose and fell with heavy breathing as they slowly let go of their hold on each other. Starring at the dark and ominous hole in the ground, Myra felt her heart sink and her head swarm with terror of which she’s never known before.
“My sister. Mary.” 
“Maybe it wasn’t her. Maybe it was just another dead kid that looks like her.” Chris said but Myra shook her head in opposition.
“No, it was her. I could never forget what she looks like, even with a dead face like THEM I still know her. Oh God!” the tears rolled from her eyes again, “why her? Why my little sister and not me?” The sun dipped behind a cloud and her eyes followed the white puff in the sky and Myra remembered how her sister used to name the shapes as they floated by.

Transplanted back to when they would have picnics in the backyard. Stomachs full from star-shaped sandwiches and caramel dipped apples, the two sisters lay on the grass, side by side, looking up at the sky and the puffy white clouds of heaven.
“That one looks like a rabbit,” the tears continue to flow as Myra thinks of Mary’s innocent eyes, the dimples on her cheeks when she smiled, and how she always sang the chorus of “Over the Rainbow” because it was the only lines she knew from the song. “I’ll be Dorothy and you can be the scarecrow.”
“Why do I have to be the scarecrow? Can’t I be another character?” Myra smiled at her sister as they lay together on the grassy hill in the backyard of their house.
“Well the scarecrow is Dorothy’s best friend and you’re my best friend and my sister so that’s why you should be the scarecrow.” Her voice was nothing more than a memory in Myra’s head.
“We have to get back to Kansas,” she declared as she stood up, adjusted her blue and white dress and snapped the back of the heals of the red glittered shoes her mother got her for Christmas and repeated, “There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.”

Somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high,
There’s a land that I heard of
Once in a lullaby…



The End

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