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  Something that hadn’t always been there, however, was a trail of blood. It started near the doorway and led back inside.

  Chapter 3: Innocence Lost

  Ricky held his breath. Jamie stared at the ground. Kyle scanned the windows, trying to see something, and I could do nothing but feel an absolutely terrifying emptiness harden in my core. We didn’t move, could hardly function. We just watched in stunned silence, wishing things were different. Yet the house remained still, and weirdly inviting. We had a need to know what happened.

  “You guys stay put. Kyle, on me,” I commanded with a scratch in my throat. The other three had to be left out of this; they would only get in the way. The brother and sister couldn’t handle this situation, and the fiery one might try to kill a shadow with that itchy trigger finger and end up taking one of us out. Kyle would have to back me up. Him and only him.

  “That’s stupid, Jackson, I’m fucking coming!” Kelly whispered violently. I knew she’d be the only one to object. Pride stormed inside her. She wouldn’t back down from this, and that’s why finding her balance was key. Even with her ever-present passion she still had sense. One doesn’t live long without it.

  “I need you outside. You can cover the entrance in case someone comes out. Stay here, Kelly. Anything happens, you can come running in, yes?” I asked.

  Kelly fumed, her face reddening with rage. She swore under her breath, but didn’t argue. She shifted her weight, and walked to a broken-down automobile that was rusting in the daylight. She knelt behind it, keeping the gun at her side. The other two followed without a word. They would guard the outside.

  “Shit,” Kyle said.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Where did that come from?” Kyle pointed up. I followed his arm. The sky had darkened. It was brilliantly clear just moments ago, yet now I was watching a thunderhead break nearby. It crept up on us. A few droplets began flying down. Soon enough we were caught in a complete downpour.

  “Let’s get this done,” I said as I led the way into the house that become so different in this pouring rain. Kyle followed silently behind as we crossed the brink into the silent home. Inside, there was a complete and utter stillness. No children’s laughter, no sound of Peter’s tough love coursing through the air. Only an overwhelming sense of dread and terror filled the atmosphere. As I stood in the entryway, the blood that lingered near the door didn’t move like I thought it had. Instead it just remained pooled, but wet, recently spilled.

  I shouldn’t be here.

  This wasn’t my place, but Kyle and I needed to know what happened.

  The outlay of the house was familiar. I could only recall coming her twice, but in those times the family managed to keep me for hours—so happy were the Palmers to have guests. Zoe and Peter’s rooms were separate from the children’s, down here on the ground floor. I saw the stairway that spiraled up to the second story, and the little ones’ bedrooms. It was difficult to decide which way to go at that moment.

  Who deserved to be looked for first? Who deserved to be saved? Logic dictated that I should stay down here, for now. There were less rooms on this floor, and the front door was the only exit. If someone came flying down those stairs there would be enough time to handle it. Of course, Kelly could threaten someone with her sidearm if they went screaming out into the world--if that iron of hers worked right.

  Flowing into the hallway, Kyle followed silently as he’d promised. With the sudden thunderstorm picking up strength, it had darkened considerably outside, bathing the hallways in a dank gloom. Shadows twisted and bounced as lightning flashed outside. My sleepless senses mutated the shades. I could feel my hands instinctively point the barrel of my shotgun at the jumping shadows, but I refrained from pulling the trigger.

  Up ahead a doorway loomed into life. The wooden boards beneath our feet creaked and moaned with age. We slowed the pace, stepping carefully to make sure we staved off as much noise as possible. Raising the shotgun mid-level, I slid along the wall, inching ever closer to the opening.

  No sounds escaped from beyond. I prayed for someone to make a noise, be it crying or moaning… just something, anything. The silence was too much, and a jittery shaking started in my left hand. I had never experienced that before, but I also didn’t usually go hunting for murderers either.

  I dared a peek inside the doorway. I wasn’t thinking about someone with a functional sidearm burying a bullet between my eyes. I felt an idea take hold, that there wasn’t enough time to think or hang back. Lives were in danger. My gun entered first, ready to spark to life. Only a growing sense of vigor carried me forward.

  I made a quick scan of the room. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. I looked in all the corners, behind the door, and under the bed. It wasn’t until my hand touched something wet on the bed that I knew my fears were justified.

  “What is it?” Kyle asked as quietly as possible. It was too dark to make out the color until lightning flashed outside, and a deep crimson revealed the truth.

  “Nooooo…” Kyle uttered. His eyes widened with horror at the sudden realization that what we’d heard earlier may have been the bullet that hit Zoe. Yet this was too strange, and too out of place for a murder. There was a very distinct lack of a body. No trail of blood leading off somewhere, and there was very little of it, just a small patch really. I would have missed it if I hadn’t stuck my head in that exact spot.

  “Next room,” I whispered.

  A bullet wound would have bled much more. Something different was at work here. Where was Zoe? Where were the signs of life?

  The darkness only grew blacker from there as we burst back into the hallway. I turned left and went straight for Peter’s room. It was only a few strides from Zoe’s room but it felt like a much greater distance. I rushed forward, nearly running. This time the door was closed, but that didn’t slow us down. I kicked right through the timber and the door slammed open. I held my restless finger against the shotgun’s trigger, ready for anything. But there was nothing.

  Peter’s room was empty save for a bed and desk. We found nothing beyond that, o blood soaked sheets or signs of struggle. Nothing leaped out at me and certainly not at Kyle. Kyle fidgeted in place with his gun tapping softly against his leg. I stared at him as if trying to summon an answer. He managed to avoid my questioning glare.

  “We’re not done yet,” I ordered.

  At least the rain was calming down, though it remained overcast outside. We made our way into the hallway and back towards the front of the house. Somehow the home had changed since we first entered. The creaks and groans from the foundation now occurred randomly. Her appearance transformed beyond normal shades and shadows. It seemed like dark arms reached out at us in the hallways.

  A chill came over us, and my breath fogging before me. I sensed my blood grow colder.

  We entered the foyer and looked toward the staircase that spiraled up to the second floor. I knew that the hallways branched in three different directions at the top, and the children’s bedrooms would be in the left side of the home.

  Only a bit of sunlight breached the open doorway. The clouds overhead were just beginning to break, and light was thankfully starting to flow through the windows near the top of the house. The shadows pushed away, and I regained what I was missing, a sense of knowing what was in this miserable home.

  “Some luck at least,” Kyle whispered. He was right. The light would make it that much easier for the rest of the exploration. We ascended the stairs in a quick yet careful rush. My shotgun pointed to the left, Kyle’s to the right, not wanting to let anything surprise us. Our footsteps were loud on the old wood, but there was no need to play it coy anymore after I’d kicked the door in.

  We pushed onward to where I remember the first bedroom was on the second floor. It belonged to a girl probably no older than my little one, a frail little thing named Alexis. The girl was one of the most cheerful people to be around, always happy, and always a ball of pure energy. The thought of A
lexis spurred me on. With shotgun mid-level and a trigger finger just waiting for someone to pop out, I circled a turn in the hallway and closed the gap to the sleeping quarters. I found nothing as I rounded the junction. I was expecting something, anything.

  Everything was quiet as death as we entered the room. No signs of a struggle. Thankfully no little bodies were strung out along the floor either. There was simply nothing. I knew something happened here: gunshots happened for a reason. Blood spatters happened for a reason. But as far as we could determine, none of it made any sense.

  My vision fell on something very peculiar. It rested against the far wall, near the corner on the right side. I walked over and bent down to examine it. My blood chilled a few degrees. I couldn’t begin to understand what it meant, but, frankly, I didn’t want to either.

  “What is it?” Kyle asked. He stood over me. I didn’t know how to explain it so I simply picked up the severed finger and held it out for him to see. I heard his gasp, and Kyle backpedaled a few feet. The detached finger was a regular-sized, adult pinky. It looked like it was chewed off of a hand.

  I breathed deeply, trying to gain some concentration. The shotgun grew heavy in my arms, and my eyelids felt like dropping, laden with this uneasy exhaustion that didn’t allow me to sleep. I didn’t know why, but I kept the finger in my hand. It felt like it was something important, a means to an end.

  I met Kyle’s gaze. He nodded and moved into the hallway once more.

  We moved swift and loud as we progressed to the last room in the hallway. Joanne’s room was up ahead. She was the youngest of the Palmers. She had soft, violet eyes but never talked much. She usually just sat in a corner looking off into the abyss. I wondered what those violet eyes had seen thus far.

  Suddenly, we heard the faintest of whimpers. It was barely audible, but there. A soft orange glow illuminated the hallway, seeping from the crack of a hardly-opened doorway just ahead. It was enough for us to quicken our pace and burst into the room.

  Kyle moaned out loud and left the room while I stood paralyzed. There was Peter and all the children surrounding a fire built in a barrel. They were eating… pieces… of something that once were human. I could only guess who it was they were piling into their gaping mouths. Several pairs of eyes followed my movements as I dropped the severed finger to the floor. I thought I knew these people, but never expected this. I’d heard stories of cannibalism from the inner part of the city, but never foresaw this horror.

  “Jackson?” Peter’s faint voice picked up from around the fire.

  I was in a pure daze and couldn’t hear the rest of what he was saying. The scene was too gruesome. Body parts lay close to the fire while others roasted in the heat. My stomach rolled as the smell finally hit me. I wanted to leave but couldn’t, as if my feet were glued down. I dropped the shotgun and looked at each child, wondering how they could commit such an act. One of them started crying, softly at first, until bursting into full tears. Soon the others joined in.

  “What the hell…,” I trailed off, holding down vomit. “What is this?” There was no way of understanding this, yet I still needed some sort of answer.

  Peter turned his eyes to the fire before bringing them back up to me. That's when I noticed how sunken his eyes had become. His skin was stretched over bones. He looked weak and defeated. Peter pushed himself around the fire and stood beside me.

  “She,” Peter dropped his head and whispered. “Zoe said…” Peter got chocked up and his legs swayed side to side. He could barely hold himself up and placed a skeletal hand on my arm to steady himself. “This was our only way. She tried killing herself a little a while ago, to make it easier on us…” Peter’s voice cracked while the children cried louder.

  I thought back to the bloody sheets in Zoe’s bedroom, to the patch of blood in the entryway. She’d tried to end her life, but apparently had failed. One of the kids came running forward and picked up the severed finger, and cradled it like it was precious. It was Joanne, with her violet purple eyes. She returned to the others, crying and wailing.

  “So you, you, you…” I stuttered and squinted, trying to comprehend. The idea was so unfamiliar, so troubling. I turned around, away from everything. I didn’t want to comprehend.

  “Zoe said it was the only way. We tried to find food. We foraged for weeks. People Downtown don’t care. They have their own rations and stores, but nothing else. There is just so little left up here, you know…” Peter said, choking up for a second. “They were getting so weak. Look, I know. I know this isn’t right. But there was nothing else.”

  “She… was… going… to… turn… tomorrow,” Joanne managed through sobs.

  “What?” I asked, eyeing the girl. Joanne didn’t speak another word.

  “She was turning tomorrow,” Peter explained. “She said she didn’t want to leave us unless it was on her own terms. She said it was ok.” Peter struggled to cling to my arm. He was shaking terribly and his legs trembled, threatening to send him crashing to the ground.

  “Her twenty-sixth birthday…?” I trailed off. I thought she was younger than that. I didn’t realize she was so close to my age, and to the turning. But still, to do this to someone was disconnected from everything I knew about family. Guilt welled within me as I remained disjointed. We had supplies to last them some time, if we’d only known about their situation. If I’d shared some supplies this might have never happened.

  “The gunshot?” I asked, already knowing the answer. If she’d tried to shoot herself, then a shot from a pistol would be quick and hopefully painless. I just didn’t know how they could eat her. I looked around at the children’s tear-streaked faces, noticing out boney they were, and how terrible their breathing had become.

  Peter began crying, matching the others in the room. The children gathered to their feet and huddled around him. It was too much. I left the room without as much as a glance back. I wanted out of this hell and grabbed Kyle on my way back to the stairs.

  Chapter 4: It Begins

  The rest of the day passed by in flashes of dismembered body parts and ambient smells. Nothing felt solid or real. The ground shook but didn’t move, and it was cold outside even with the sun at its peak. Olivia talked, but I couldn’t hear her. Everything buzzed but I was stuck, lifeless, in the most silent world that had ever existed. I was broken.

  I did my best to put on a smiling face as I tucked Olivia away for the night before returning to the outside world. I took a seat on the cement just outside the door. I wouldn’t sleep tonight; I didn’t think Kyle would either. Too many images were cascading through my mind.

  Instead, I tried to focus my attention on the sky. Bright little specks sparkled in the darkness. A full moon hung just near the center of the sky. Somehow it eased my mind. I returned inside and made sure to double-check the locks on the door.

  Striding into the living room, I crashed on the couch, my legs aching and my mind shot. That familiar, musty smell of the house thankfully replaced the odor of burnt flesh my mind kept fixated on. I was used to the silence of the room, but now it reminded me of the same quietness at the Palmer’s. I needed to do something to distract myself.

  I lit the globe inside a nearby lantern. The shallow light enveloped the room, and I felt much better. I kept a few old binders underneath the couch that were filled with clippings and pictures from someone else’s life. I reached without looking and grabbed the first one that touched my fingers. I tossed the brown, leather binder into my lap and opened it to the first page.

  I had remembered how to read not long after The Forgetting, something that most in this city had not been able to achieve. The words on the front page weren’t exactly foreign, but they also didn’t hold much meaning, at least to me. The words on the flap read:

  To Julie,

  From the first moment to our last,

  I will always love you.

  Robert

  The second page held photographs. There was a couple in each picture, smiling and holding t
he other. They were young in the first couple pages, but as I went on they aged before my eyes, a lifetime captured in photographs. I saw the beginning of a relationship, the middle, the end. In one picture they were up in the air somehow, lights of blue, purple, and pink flashing in the background as they looked down upon a lake or a river. In another they had the sun setting behind them. The glare was strong in the photo but I could still see them laughing. Further in the book they were in strange outfits and shoving cake in each other’s faces. I had no idea what that one was about, but it seemed fun nonetheless.

  Flipping through another couple pages I saw them holding a baby. The woman, now a mother, was exhausted and hooked up to some kind of machine. Again I was confused, but I didn’t really need to understand. The next few photographs were when everything changed. Something was wrong. The lady was still hooked up to tubes and things, but she was bald and looked sick. Soon it was only pictures of the father with the little girl.

  I grasped the side of my head and felt a headache coming on. These weird, mini migraines happened so often I knew this was going to be a bad one. Gently laying the photo album on the couch, I cradled my head with both hands just before the blistering pain overcame my senses. My vision blurred and even the back of my eyes hurt. It passed rather quickly, but it left an overwhelming need to fall over.

  My scared vision caused shadows to start jumping off the walls like demons. It felt like the spirits had followed me, seeking blood after I’d intruded on their domain at the Palmers. I killed the globe of the lantern, and again the darkness covered the room, the shadows dying into the background.