Chapter Text
“Callie, wait up!” Marie called out after her cousin. She giggled, trying to climb up to the next branch, but her hands were small and her legs weren’t as long as Callie’s yet. She grunted, attempting to swipe at it, fingertips instead just barely grazing the leaves.
She just turned seven and she's finally old enough to keep up with Callie's energy. Instead of being grounded, watching her cousin crawling and swinging and singing, now she can too! And she has, and she will, with Callie forever and ever!
“Here, Marie! Give me your hand!” She looked up to see the gap tooth grin that’s beaming down at her. “I’ll lift you up!”
“O-Okay!” Marie said and she stretched up, impressed by the girl’s confidence.
Their hands interlocked, grip tightening, before she was slowly hoisted up.
Centimeter by centimeter, Marie felt Callie's muscles quake. Her own feet attempted to find purchase of the rough bark, though it kept slipping. She was a hairs length away from grabbing with her other hand when there's a gasp-
And then she's falling.
Time slowed. The world tilted. Marie's mouth fell open in shock.
"Marie-!" Callie's eyes were wide as she reached, but just barely grazed her shirt. In the split second, Marie watched as her grip loosened from the bark as she jumped after her.
Her cousin's arms circled Marie as they fell, and, briefly, Marie felt a sense of calm overcome her with them.
And then the world crashed into reality.
"Ooph!"
Marie winced. The impact hadn't been that bad. Nothing really hurt, which was good, but maybe there was a bruise on her knees and some scrapes from the twigs.
"M-Marie, are you alright?"
Marie opened her eyes. Callie was looking at her with a wobbly smile. Wait…
She scrambled upwards. Her cousin winced, and Marie looked down to see blood. Oh god. There was so much. On her leg was a large gash that had been carved into her by a passing branch.
Marie began to shake, unable to look away from the wound. "C-Ca-Callie—“ She trembled, shaking her words as they left her. "Your leg!"
"Hey, it’s okay! I'm alright." The dark haired girl laughed as she winced again, slowly sitting up. "I just got a n-nick, help me up?"
Marie was too terrified to move. The blood was leaking onto the ground, mixing the dirt with gore.
"Marie, look at me." Callie said, and the quietness of her voice snapped Marie to do as she's told. Her face had a bit of dirt, and there were twigs and leaves that decorated her hair.
"I'm—" Marie warbled. Tears began to form. "I'm sorry—"
Callie smiled, even though there was a flash of pain that flickered across her face.
"I wanted to do that, okay?" Callie said gently. "I won't let anything bad hurt you, not while I'm around."
"B-but what about you?" Marie cried out. "Who's going to look after you?"
Callie shrugged.
Marie swallowed hard. Wiping her tears angrily on her arm, she stood. "Th-then I will."
Callie's eyebrows shot up. She opened her mouth before Marie glared at her.
“Promise me,” Marie said. “P-Pinky promise me that if you ever get hurt you’ll find me, okay?”
There’s a heartbeat between them, and Callie’s eyes softened as she beamed. “I promise!” she said, but before she latched pinkies she huffed. “But before I do, you have to promise we’ll be together forever!”
It was Marie’s turn to look surprised. "Of course!" she said, because that was a silly request. Why wouldn't they be together forever? Marie beamed back, determined and happy as they locked pinkies.
“Together forever.” She promised again.
Callie beamed. "Together forever."
----
Marie dropped the bowl she was holding. The soup splashed, scalding against her leg but she didn’t felt a thing.
“Martial law has been declared for Inkopolis.” The reporter’s voice crackled over the old television her parents had bought years ago. “The government has prohibited anyone from entering or exiting due to the outbreak in discolored bodies showing up. We advise those to stay in and quarantine while the situation gets resolved.”
“Callie.” She muttered as she raced to the landline. She hurriedly dialed the number she’s known for the past decade. She hit call. “Come on, Cal, pick up, pick up.”
The phone rings.
And rings.
And rings.
“Hi! I am so sorry I can’t come to the phone right now, please leave a message after the beep!”
The beep clears, and Marie coughed, mouth choked up by fear. “Callie, please tell me you’re alright, I just saw the news? What’s going on? What’s happening?” She took a breath, feeling a stutter in her chest. “Call me back when you can, please. I love you. Together forever.”
The line clicks dead. There’s a scream outside, and she lets the phone fall from her fingertips.
------
“Hi! I am so sorry I can’t come to the phone right now, please leave a message after the beep!”
“Callie, it's me, people are getting sick here. They haven't figured out the cause yet. Uh, your family is safe, I checked on them yesterday. They said they haven’t heard from you either. I couldn’t get a hold of your manager. I know it’s busy. I’m staying here just in case you find your way out somehow. I hope you’re okay. C-Call me back when you get the chance, okay? I miss you. Love you. Together forever.”
-------
“- I can’t come to the phone right now please leave a message after the beep!”
“Callie, please call me back. If this is a game, it isn’t funny, like at all. I’m worried about you. I s-saw something the other day. It was far away, but people were worried. Everyone’s tense. Less people have been around, and if they are they look skittish. I feel skittish. The news said the dead are coming back to life like those cheesy horror movies we used to watch. It can’t be true, right? It feels like a dream. A nightmare. I love you. Together… Together forever.”
-----
“- right now please leave a message after the beep!”
“W-Whatever it was, it spread. We've had to find weapons and stuff. I even saw a few bring guns into their house, even boarding up the windows! We weren't able to find any, but we did build a fence around our house. I can hear them moaning at night, can you? I’m scared, Callie. I don’t know what to do. I miss you. I hope…I hope you can hear this. Please, together forever, right?”
----
“- after the beep!”
“I had to…I had to bury them. All of them. I'm tired of digging. I don’t know where you are, but I hope you're safe. Please be safe. I don’t think I could lose you too.”
----
“Beep!”
“It’s me. I’ve…I can’t stay here anymore. The town is running out of supplies. There’s nothing here for me. If…If you’re getting these I’ll be at Gramp’s old place, he’ll know what to do, just—” Marie choked a sob. “I’ll be waiting. I love you.”
She hung the phone back in its socket. The house was empty, a shell of what it once was all those weeks ago. She shouldered the backpack that had a few days worth of food and a couple changes of clothes. It was heavy, and she was tired. The metal bat she had was dented and already dirty with blood.
When Marie turned to look at her childhood home for one last time, she could almost view the ghost or memories like family parties, laugh, staying up late at night, sleep overs, like everything was normal again.
But when she blinked, it disappeared, leaving the shell remaining once again, so Marie turned away and closed the door behind her.
————
She didn't know how long it had taken to get there, but she estimated at least a month due to her constantly needing to refill her supplies. Marie didn't sleep much, the night terrors of decaying flesh and monsters that lurked in the shadows that looked like her lost cousin came to her each night. Instead she shambled on, almost like the dead herself, perhaps almost halfway there.
The town had been barren. No signs of human life remained other than the memories with worn down asphalt and rusted metal. The birds and cicadas that brought sounds of summer on their backs was the only noise besides the wind. That, and the distant groaning one could hear if they listened close enough at night.
She remembered the code after all these years and entered it correctly the first try. Not that it mattered. Even if she had forgotten it, it looked as though the power had gone off. It made sense: with no one around, there was no one to distribute it anymore.
She knew each street like the back of her hand and each house reminded her of distant memories long since past. The old couple that lived across from Gramps’ house, the middle aged guy that somehow got a house here down the road—her and Callie always loved playing with his husky when it got out sometimes.
All of them were now empty, though. A ghost of a town; the life that had previously inhabited it was long gone.
Her grandfather's house was one of the first houses visible from the town's entrance. Even if it wasn’t, she’d be able to find it within minutes. She knew the exact address, she’d known it for years.
She hesitated on his doorstep, scanning the worn weathered door for some signs of life. The only thing that stuck out to her was the dead wreath hanging, parts of it withered away and fallen into bits on the stoop.
A part of her didn't want to open the door, the part that was more comfortable with living in the moment where there was a chance he’d be on the other side. A chance that he’d be here, alive, to hug her, to hold her tight and never let her go. To sweep her up and know exactly what to do like he always did when she was younger. As long as the door was shut, he was there, waiting for her to get the bravery to join him.
A wind came and blew through her dirty hair, making her eyes naturally shut in defense. She could smell rain in the air, and she heard Gramps’ words echo in her mind, telling her that every drop of water was vital.
(He probably had something that could catch rainwater inside, if not already set up in the back.)
With a deep breath and an already familiar tension in every muscle, she turned the doorknob and…
Oh, it was locked. Of course.
Her eyes found the one plank of the house that was aged enough to hang away from the rest of the structure and she peeled it back a bit, finding the spare key hidden behind. Then, she unlocked the door, turned the knob, and stepped inside, the carpet giving way to her shoe beneath her.
“Hello?” she called out, the fear in her voice obvious. If someone was here, that was good. Unless they were infected, then she just alerted the predator to its prey’s presence.
But there was no response, except for a few droplets of rain pattering against the window. This house should relax her, it brought her comfort for all those years prior, back then it was bustling with sounds. Whether from cooking or speaking, there was always something to be heard.
But now, only the windchimes jingled outside, singing for their long awaited audience. No warm laughs or chuckles. No untuned keyboard sounds.
Nothing but the rain and her uneven breathing.
“Gramps?” she tried again.
Somebody had to have locked the door. Had to be alive…right? The dead can’t open doors, they can’t use keys…he has to be alive! He’s just not here.
He had to be somewhere, out maybe getting supplies. But then again, he would never willingly leave the home he spent so long preparing for the apocalypse during the apocalypse, he had to have been forced out, there’s no other option that makes sense. What happened? What if he’s…
Like Callie.
“No,” she interrupted her thoughts with a shout. “No, not right now. They're still alive. They're coming back.”
She realized at that moment she needed to prepare for Gramp's return, and maybe, hopefully, Callie’s as well. She had to bolster defenses, find a steady supply, and make plans for what to do after.
She had things to do. She could worry about the logistics later. Right now, all of Gramps’s odd preparations and journals were clear in her mind. If he hadn’t taken them with him, they’d still be here.
Maybe he had them in his office, or information around. And so she set off and searched.
Each room she opened served as a new wound in the monster that it was. Each empty area, with a thick layer of dust, served as a chip against the hope burning in her heart.
"They'll come." Marie whispered to herself as she huddled on the couch with moth-chewed blankets and an empty can of beans. "It's only a matter of time."
Time, she would soon learn, was a terrible thing.