The gate surrounding the camp has collapsed. Fabian, Neil, Larry and Clark have been working on it for days to fix it, but it's all been for nothing. There's also a passing horde of zombies nearby, according to Fabian. He said he saw them while out on a supply run. Some of the stragglers have already managed to get inside of the camp. It's no longer safe here, especially with the oncoming horde. Neil says that we have to prepare to leave.
Just as I'm packing my things, Fabian barges into our tent, looking winded. "Problem. The horde is here sooner than expected. We have to go right now."
Fear sizzles down my spine. I've been here for about a week, but I still haven't encountered any zombies. Am I finally going to see one? Am I going to die? I never realized how terrified I am. Can I really face this? Oh gosh, why can't this just be a dream? Outside of the tent, I hear shouting and screaming. A gun goes off, and there's a cacophony of moans and growls. Heart pounding, I charge out of the tent and slam right into Neil, who grabs my arm.
"Carol, we need to go now!" he shouts at me.
"Take this!" Neil shoves a knife into my hand. Outside is a nightmare. Zombies are everywhere. The movies don't get them right. They're much more terrifying in real life. The stink of rotting flesh fills my nose and a wave of nausea hits me. They're pale faces and shambling movements grow increasingly disturbing with every second I stare at them. One has an eye missing, another has entrails hanging out of its mouth, and then there's another...eating Juliet. The crying of her child is what brings me to my senses. The little girl I saw the other day is standing over her body as the zombie gorges itself on her mother's guts, face buried in her stomach. The little girl is crying her eyes out, standing over the gruesome sight of her mother.
Eyes widening, I call out to the child. "Little girl! Come here!"
But she doesn't hear me in all the chaos. She just keeps crying. I try to remember her name, what was it? Dawn? I think that's what it was. Trying to keep down the bile that's rising in my throat, I call out to her again.
"Dawn! Dawn, come here!"
Sniffling, she looks up at me, eyes wide and wet. A zombie shambles up behind her and I scream. Seeing the zombie, Dawn covers her head and screams. Just as the zombie reaches for her, jaws snapping, I charge over, knife at the ready. Without thinking, I drive the blade right into its head. Blood gushes over my hand and wrist. Yelping, I yank the blade back out and scoop up the little girl. Fabian and Larry are nowhere to be seen. Clark is gone. Half of the camp is already dead.
Behind me, an engine revs loudly. Clutching Dawn to my chest, I turn to see Neil on his motorcycle. "Carol, get on!"
Will that hold Dawn too? Without stopping to think of the possible consequences, I jump on with Dawn. She clutches onto Neil, and luckily she's small enough that I'm able to reach around her and grab Neil too. Like a sandwich, she's enveloped between us. I press my face into Dawn's curls as he hits the gas and we speed off into the distance, leaving the camp behind.
It's only been hours since we left the camp. The three of us drove until Neil's motorcycle ran out of gas. Now we're hunkered down in the middle of nowhere at a makeshift camp. The air is chilly and the snow is turning into slush beneath my feet. Dawn and I sit alone in front of the fire, waiting for Neil to return. He went searching for more gas after leaving us some provisions. Luckily, no zombies have shown up. But I have a knife just in case. I can take one or two that might show up here. I did it at the camp, so I know that I'm strong enough to do it. I won't let anything harm this little girl. Maybe it's my maternal instincts, but I feel a strong urge to protect this child. I'm not sure how old she is, but she can't be much older than five.
So far, I haven't been able to get her to eat at all. I've offered her everything in Neil's bag, but she won't take any of it. Not even the candy, which is really hard to come by. Dawn won't talk either. She just stares off into space, silently crying. Sometimes she'll hug me, but she never says a word.
"Dawn, you need to eat something," I say, trying again. "I bet you're probably hungry, yeah?"
I offer Dawn a packet of cheesy crackers. She only stares at them, sniffling as she shivers. "It's okay to eat. You can eat."
Another moment passes, and finally Dawn takes the crackers. I breathe out in relief as she tears open the packet and stuffs one into her mouth. I've been trying to get her to eat for hours. This is progress. After she chews and swallows, she asks me,
"Why didn't my mommy wake up?"
A haunted feeling sweeps through me. How am I supposed to respond to that? It's already traumatic enough for a child to watch their mother's guts getting ripped out. I don't know what I'm supposed to say.
"Because...mommy went to Heaven." That's the only thing I can think of to say.
Her eyes are wide and wet. "Heaven?"
I nod, smiling as I place a hand on her shoulder. "Yes, Heaven. She's safe there."
Dawn sniffles, more tears pooling. "Can I go to Heaven too?"
Oh man, I wasn't expecting that. "I'm afraid not, Dawnie. You're not ready yet."
"But I want my mommy!" she bawls. "If she's there then I want to go there too!"
"You're not old enough to go to Heaven!" I tell her, unable to think of anything else. "But it's okay because your mommy will wait for you."
At this she wails and stomps her feet. "But I want my mommy back!"
I feel tears of my own welling in my eyes, and I bend down to hug her. "I know, I know, I want my mommy too."
"No!" She wrenches away from me, huge tears falling from her eyes, and she bolts in the opposite direction, into the woods, her little feet making small, child-sized footprints in the snow.
"Dawn, wait! Come back!" I run after her, but I'm extremely out of shape and she's a very fast child. I nearly lose sight of her, but I force myself to keep pace with her. She's not even watching where she's going. Dawn's just sobbing while running, covering her face with her hands. Up ahead, I see her slowing down before finally stopping, in what appears to be a small clearing. Panting, I make it there shortly after her, grabbing her by the shoulders.
"Dawn," I pant. "Don't you ever run off again, do you-"
"Look." Dawn points, drawing my attention away from her. Glancing up, I gaze into the clearing. Dead zombies litter the ground, easily a dozen or more of them. Fresh blood paints the snow a crimson red. On the other side of the clearing, leading further into the woods is a trail of blood, snaking away deeper into the forest. Somewhere far in the distance, I hear a loud, high-pitched scream. It sounds like a banshee. Crows fly out of a tree nearby, squawking and disturbing the peaceful quiet.
"Mommy! That was my mommy!" exclaims Dawn, staring intently at the bloody trail leading out of the other side of the clearing.
A spooky feeling overwhelms me. "I don't think that's your mom, Dawn..."
Humans can't scream like that. I've never heard any person scream like that before. It sounds strange and abnormal. The scream comes again a second time, sounding no closer or further than the first time.
Dawn tugs urgently on my sleeve. "Carol, that's my mommy! She needs help, we need to save her!"
I grab her firmly by the arm, not wanting to go any further towards the odd screaming. "That's not your mommy, Dawn. I think we should go back now and wait for Neil."
But Dawn shakes her head and loses it. She struggles and twists violently, yanking away from me a second time and tears off across the clearing to the blood trail. "NOOOOO! MOMMMYYYY!"
"DAWN, STOP!" I shout, charging after her. I trip and stagger slightly over the dead bodies, jumping over them as I try to catch her. All the while the screaming keeps on growing louder and louder as we draw closer and closer to the source. Dawn just keeps running, no matter how much I yell at her to stop.
Finally the trail ends and Dawn stops and stares at something. Upon reaching her, I immediately grab her again by the arm, keeping a good hold on her so she doesn't try to get away again.
"Mommy?" she whimpers, looking at someone.
At the end of the trail is a girl, some woman. She most definitely doesn't look like Dawn's mother, Juliet. This woman's back is facing me, wearing a long white gown. There's a giant gash in the back of her left leg, blood trailing down it in a stream. It doesn't look like it's been bit, but rather someone tried to sever it. Her hair hangs in long, black clumps down her back, messy and gnarled. She lifts her head up and screams, very loudly. I cover my ears, wincing. Christ, that's so loud. Why does it sound so...monstrous?
It doesn't take me long to realize that there's something up with this girl. She doesn't have feet; instead, they're claws. Her arms are way too long to be human arms. They almost go down to the ground. And there's a tail, a pink, fleshy horned tail coming out of her. What is that? I clear my throat. Should I say something?
"Mommy, are you okay?" Dawn asks, trying to approach. I fiercely yank her back, glaring down at her.
"Dawn. That is not your mother," I tell her sharply, spitting through my teeth. "Do not go over there."
She appears to be crying, hanging her head. Upon hearing Dawn, the woman lifts her head and turns toward us. Gasping, I grab Dawn protectively and thrust her behind me. She doesn't look human. At all. She's something else entirely. Keeping her malevolent, blood lust gaze on me, she turns completely around. Her arms hang down to her shins, slouching as she starts staggering towards me and Dawn. Her mouth opens, howling that banshee scream, revealing sharp, needle-like teeth. There are no eyes in her head, just two black holes. Somehow though, she seems able to see us. I back away from her, trying not to slip on the snow as Dawn cowers behind me.
She whimpers. "Carol? I'm scared."
I swallow hard, keeping my eyes fixed on the woman. "It's okay, Dawnie. Just stay behind me. You're going to be okay."
Crazed, the woman screeches and lunges for me, her long arm swinging at my head. Screaming I scramble backwards to get away, but my heel catches on something and I fall down onto the snowy ground.
"Aaahh!" Dawn falls too, gripping my arm. I shove her away from me, away from the woman.
"Dawn RUN!" I scream, shoving her back. "Find Neil!"
Crying, Dawn runs off, back in the direction we came as fast her little feet can take her. I spin back around to face the woman, who looms over me like a grotesque visage from a nightmare. Fear courses through me, my heart about to beat right out of my chest. Is this it? Am I going to die here? So much for saving the world. The woman leans down over me, roaring as she raises a clawed hand above her head, ready to strike. Turning around, I claw at the ground in an attempt to get up, and somehow manage to get to my feet. I take off running just as she slashes at me, screeching. It's hard to get traction in the slushy snow, but I manage.
I keep running, not looking back. I slip up a few times, but I desperately find my footing again, knowing that if I don't, this crazy woman monster is going to get me. I run until my legs ache, glancing back to see if the woman is still after me. I don't see her. All I see is woods and snow. Has she stopped chasing me? Have I-
"Oof!" I slam into something hard and nearly go flying backwards, but a strong hand snatches my arm and holds me up. When I finally gather my spinning brain, I see Neil's eyes glaring down at me. At his side is a very terrified Dawn, who's crying her eyes out.
"What are you doing?" he asks me, irritation clear in his voice.
"Dawn...ran off..." I pant, brushing myself off. "There was...a monster..."
"I told you two not to leave the campsite!" he snaps.
"It's not my fault! The little girl ran off and I went after her!" I snap back at him.
Neil leans down close to Dawn. "Don't you ever run off. Again. Do you hear me? It's very dangerous out here."
"O-okay..." she whimpers, sniveling.
"Now...if you really saw what you say you saw, I think it's time for us to leave the area at once."
Once we gather all of our things, we immediately leave.
POV: Janette
I cannot believe that Carol is missing. I just saw her the other day. How could she be missing? Mrs. Tyson is probably very shaken by this. Maybe I should go check on her? But honestly I'm very shaken too, Carol's my best friend. The least I can do is pay her mom a visit to show my support. So I get into my big red truck and drive over. I immediately become suspicious when I notice a strange car I've never seen before, parked in her driveway. Parking next to it, I hop out of my truck as worry laces through me. Standing a bit awkwardly on the porch, I ring the doorbell. Before the door opens, I hear murmuring inside, low and conspiratorial. Then Mrs. Tyson answers the door.
"Oh. Janette. How are you?" she asks me, seeming a bit wary.
"I'm okay, but I'm here to see about you. How are you holding up?" I ask.
She sighs. "I'm trying. Would you like to come in?"
"Um...sure."
Mrs. Tyson steps aside so I can enter. Stepping through the doorway, she closes the door behind me. Inside, I see a strange, unfamiliar man standing in her living room. Where there's a dead body lying on the floor. A gunshot wound is prominent on his forehead. Blood's all over Mrs. Tyson's polished, hardwood floor. I feel uneasy as I stare at the dead body in her house. My stomach squelches and churns, feeling my face whiten and my blood run cold.
"Oh...I see you have company. Umm. I guess I'll...leave," I say awkwardly, and then head back for the door.
"Oh no, you don't have to leave, honey. This is Detective Kennedy. He's helping me with Carol's disappearance," she explains to me urgently, clearly not wanting me to get the wrong idea.
"Pleasure to meet you." The detective walks up to me and shakes my hand. "And you are?"
"I'm Janette Loray. Carol's friend," I reply.
His eyes light up with interest. "Oh. Well great, I wanted to ask you a few questions about Carol."
"Okay."
"When did you last see Carol?"
"Two days ago."
"Was she acting strangely? Did she seem upset?"
I bite my lip. "Yeah, she was kind of upset that morning when I picked her up."
"What about?"
"Um..." I offer a furtive glance in Mrs. Tyson's direction. "She was upset because she felt that her mom...Mrs. Tyson was keeping secrets about who her dad was."
Mrs. Tyson sighs. "Oh for Christ's sake."
"Go on."
"She'd...found this piece of paper that had this name on it who she thought was her father...but she wasn't sure," I tell the detective.
"What was the name?"
"I think she said it was Jacobs or something like that."
"Hmm..." Kennedy strokes his chin for a moment. "Mrs. Tyson, wasn't that the last name of your husband's friend that also disappeared at the same time?"
"Uh...y-yes," she stammers.
"Okay. This is definitely all connected in some way and I'm going to find out how. Janette, where did Carol say she found the paper?"
"She found it in the attic."
"The attic is full of my husband's old things and research materials," chimes Mrs. Tyson. "It was off limits for her to go up there, I made that clear to Carol her entire life."
Kennedy looks extremely interested now. "The attic? Would you mind if I went and had a look up there? I might be able to find something."
Mrs. Tyson shrugs. "I doubt you'll find anything useful, but knock yourself out. Take a look, if you must."
"Umm...Mrs. Tyson?" I interrupt.
"Yes?"
"Is it alright if I look around in Carol's room for a bit?"
She smiles at me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Of course you can, honey. I know how close you and Carol were. Are."
"Thank you, Mrs. Tyson."
"Please, just call me Meg."
Walking past the detective, I trudge slowly up the stairs to Carol's room.
"Which way to the attic?" I hear Kennedy ask below me. Their voices fade as I enter my best friend's room and close the door.
The room is empty except for all of Carol's things. It looks exactly like it did the last time I was over for a sleepover. I can remember the last time we hung out. Tears spring to my eyes, and I fight to hold them back. I can still see the both of us on her bed, laughing about all of the dumb things we say and do. I really miss her. Wherever she is, I hope she's okay.
There's a strange poster on her wall that I don't remember seeing the last time I was over. This must be something recent because it wasn't here two days ago. Curious, I walk up to it to get a better look. Is this some celebrity or model? If so, I've never seen him before. Something about him seems familiar though. She never mentioned a new poster, she would have mentioned it to me. This is weird. It doesn't look right. The picture looks too real, like the background and the man himself. I'm afraid something might jump out at me.
Just because I'm paranoid, I reach my hand up to touch it. I don't know what I really expect to feel, but when my hand finally makes contact, all I feel is paper and the solid wall behind it. What was I expecting? For my hand to go through it? That's just ridiculous. Shifting my feet slightly, my foot steps in something wet, and crunches on something. Glancing down, I lift my foot up. There's a puddle of what looks like water, and a leaf. Dropping to my knees, I tentatively touch the puddle with the tip of my finger. It's icy cold, like ice or snow melted right here. And the leaf...just looks like a regular, dead leaf that fell from a tree. Did it blow in from somewhere? I glance over at the window. It's closed and even if it were open, there aren't many trees close enough to Carol's house for a leaf or leaves to blow in. Then where did this come from? The cold water could be explained, maybe she spilled something and forgot to wipe it up, but where did this leaf come from?
POV: Detective Kennedy
"What exactly are you looking for, detective?" Mrs. Tyson asks me as I walk around in the attic. The dim light made everything look surreal. There are old boxes covered in dust, filing cabinets that are rusted shut, and lots more junk. Honestly she should really look into getting this attic cleaned, it's a mess in here. There's an old, broken desk in the far right corner, where a smashed computer lies next to it, the screen shattered. There are other odd objects, but I can't name them because I have no idea what they are. Most of it looks like some kind of machinery or tools.
"Anything that might shed some light on your husband's disappearance," I say.
"But I thought you were investigating my daughter's disappearance!"
"I am, but I feel that if we find out what happened to your husband, we can then find out what happened to Carol."
"Whatever you say, detective..."
I start with one of the boxes, ripping it open. I sneeze as dust particles fly everywhere, scattering into the air. "Ever consider cleaning this place up?"
"What's the point? I never come up here," says Meg.
"Yeah well..." The dust finally disperses, and I gaze into the box. It's full of files and papers. I pick a random file out of the middle, wiping the dust off. It's an old, faded manila folder. The file tab has the name Keith written on it. Growing ever curious, I open it up. There's multiple sheets of paper inside, and a few of them slip out, scattering on the floor. I pick them up and look at them, but realize that the majority of the inked words are faded and unreadable.
"Shoot..."
"Did you find anything?" Meg comes over and kneels down next to me. She peers at the paper in my hands.
"Not really...the ink has faded and I can't read most of the pages..."
"What about this one?" She pulls out another paper from the folder, one where the ink is fading as well, but still readable.
I squint at the words. The attic light is too dim, so I take out the flashlight I keep on my belt with my gun. Clicking it on, I shine the light on the paper. The sentences are choppy, but I'm able to read most of them.
"The portal isn't...shouldn't use. Unpredictable patterns of...time. Formula is faulty, the project should be stopped. ...is limited to...seven. ..t good idea. Constant form...unpredict...form..."
"Geez, lots of the letters are really faded in some areas," says Meg, a frustrated look on her face.
"Do you have any idea what this paper is talking about?" I look at her.
She frowns. "The thing about the portal seems familiar. I seem to remember Altan mentioning something about a portal a long time ago."
"What did your husband research, exactly?"
"He was pretty obsessed with...time travel." Meg looks uncomfortable.
"Time travel?" My eyes narrow. "You don't think such a thing is possible, do you?"
She rubs her head, stressed. "I don't know. Altan rarely talked about his research. But now that I think about it, he and Keith had some sort of disagreement. He mentioned it to me briefly, but when I tried to question further, he wouldn't answer me."
Staring at the paper again, I see a familiar name in fading black ink. "...lease, Keith. ...can't go through...this."
I frown deeply at Meg. "Looks like Keith might have something to do with this after all."
"But Keith was his best friend. Why would he...?" she trails off.
"Maybe you didn't know as much about him as you thought. But I think we should look more into this portal thing. I know it sounds crazy, but...what if your husband and Keith really did discover time travel?"