I couldn’t see any other way out of this mess. Sara was fading fast and I had to make a decision. Now.
With one last look through the lacy living room curtains to check the street, I turned and walked back through the house to the basement door. My hand grasped the door handle but I hesitated, not wanting to go down there again. I’d only been all the way down the stairs once since it all began. What I’d seen still played in my mind while I slept. And sometimes while I was awake.
I used to be able to open the door and call out to Sara and she would come upstairs on her own. Now she was too weak, she’d need help navigating the steep steps.
But god, I didn’t want to go back down there.
I took a deep breath and braced myself, then opened the door and forced myself forward, downward. The stench was so overpowering that I had to cover my mouth and nose with one hand, the other gripping tightly to the banister.
Take one step at a time Janey, I told myself, don’t stop to think about anything. Left-right-left-right, down into the blackness. Too late I realized that in my determination to get down the steps I’d forgotten to flip on the light switch at the top of the stairs. I knew if I turned and went back up I’d never convince myself to come down again.
My feet took the last step and I was on the concrete basement floor.
“Sara?” My voice cracked on my sister’s name. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Sara? Kiddo it’s time to go.” I couldn’t hide the tremor in my voice.
A sound to my left made me whip my head in that direction. The sound of slow, laborious movement. A sliding, scuffling sound, like someone dragging an object behind them.
I prayed the object wasn’t one of our dead parents.
A form slowly emerged from around the corner of the stairwell It was short, hunched over, and moving with enormous effort. The light from the upstairs hallway dimly illuminated the figure; long matted hair, a too-thin body, and something being pulled along the floor behind it.
“Sara honey, it’s time to go,” I repeated. The shuffling figure stopped. Paused in silence for a moment. Looked up at me.
I repressed a shudder of disgust. Two weeks ago my little sister had been an adorable 5-year-old with golden hair, sky-blue yes, and a smile that lit up her sweet face.
The creature standing before me now was a twisted shadow of Sara, a grotesque doppleganger.
And yet there was still awareness in those muddied eyes. Enough of her humanity remained that I hadn’t been able to abandon her.
Initially she hadn’t seemed sick. When our parents died she’d been emotionally wrecked but appeared okay physically. We couldn’t leave mom and dad in the house to rot, but we couldn’t risk going outside to bury them. So we’d taken them down to the basement. It was a gruesome task but we’d hoped that down there the creatures outside wouldn’t be able to smell their decaying bodies.
I hadn’t thought about keeping their bodies safe from the creature inside.
Sara continued to look at me, waiting for a clear instruction. She hadn’t been able to think for herself for the past several days, beyond wanting to eat.
At that thought my eyes flicked down to the object she had dragged behind her. I saw enough to know that if I looked too long I’d recognize the object, so I brought my gaze back to my sister’s face. “You need to put that down and come upstairs,” I said, slowly and clearly.
She looked at me blankly and I was afraid that she was too far gone to understand me now, but then she blinked and let go of… she let it go and turned to the steps. Sara tried to lift a foot to place it on the bottom step but her dexterity and strength were gone; her leg only moved a few centimeters.
I was going to have to carry her.
Pushing down my revulsion I bent and held my arms out to her. To my surprise she immediately turned and reached out to me with her little arms, ready to be picked up, just like she’d done hundreds of times before. It reassured me in a way. A small proof that Sara was still inside that wasted body.
I balanced her on my hip like I always did when carrying her and awkwardly climbed the stairs. I hadn’t had her so close to me in over a week and despite the feeling of reassurance a second before I realized that I was feeling frightened. She was so close, her little face right up by mine. It would be the work of a breath for her to turn and bite me.
I swallowed a frightened whine that threatened to shoot up my throat and got us upstairs. I set Sara down so fast I practically dropped her. Two weeks ago she would have cried and been upset that I was being too rough.
Today she didn’t react at all. Just stood there, staring into the hallway.
“Come with me Sara,” I said, and started to walk down the hallway to the back door of the house. She shuffled around and followed without looking up at me or speaking. She hadn’t said a word in over a week.
Once at the back door I grabbed the backpack that I’d left on the kitchen counter and slipped it on. I’d considered packing one for Sara, but I doubted that she would be able to keep it on herself.
Then I pulled aside the red checked curtain and looked out of the small window at the top of the door. Our backyard was getting dark, the sun was setting on the other side of the house and no direct light reached the side now. Darkness was good for keeping others from seeing us, but wouldn’t be so good for letting us see where we were going.
Not that I thought Sara could have done that well in full daylight. She was going to have to hold my hand. No way was I carrying her again.
Being as quiet as possible I slowly cracked open the door, just wide enough for us to slip out. “Let’s go kiddo,” I whispered, and stepped outside.
I took a couple of steps and then extended my arm behind me, hand held out for my sister. When she didn’t take it right away I looked back.
Sara was staring at me with dead eyes.
I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath. It was the dim light, that was all. She’d been okay a second ago.
I opened my eyes and looked at her again. Her feet hadn’t moved an inch, but her whole body was leaning toward me. Her eyes were fixed on my outstretched hand. Her mouth was open in a grotesque smile.
Her eyes raised to meet mine. No longer dead.
But no longer Sara’s.
I don’t know why I didn’t hesitate. I still wonder about that, if my fast reaction marked me as a terrible sister. As a bad person.
I saved myself, yes. And I know that creature staring hungrily at me was no longer my baby sister.
But you’d think I’d have hesitated, that if I’d really loved her I’d have given her the benefit of the doubt, at least for a moment.
I drew the gun out of my coat pocket almost robotically. I honestly don’t remember making the decision to shoot her. One second we were standing there. The next second only one sister was standing.
One sister who had seen enough creatures take multiple shots without falling that she didn’t hesitate to unload the entire gun into this one.
I don’t know how I can live with it. The other survivors that I travel with tell me it wasn’t my fault. There was nothing I could have done. That what I did was merciful.
I can still hear the sound of the gunshots.
The sound of her little body hitting the kitchen floor.
The sound of her little voice, breathless and pleading.
And human.
“Janey…”
================================
Day 6 First Line Prompt: I couldn’t see any other way out of this mess.
No comments:
Post a Comment