The Heart of a Nightmare

I gripped at the air in the empty dip of my collarbone, she was supposed to signal by now. She knows the rules, and she’s never faltered before. Flick the lights twice before sunset, so I know she’s safe and won’t be wandering home after dark. Escorted by the General and his walking-Dead cavalry or not, it doesn’t matter. Jesse and I call the dead horses he controls, “Nightmares,” and she, being the English major, came up with it long before she caught the General’s eye.

We met him for first time at the town hall meeting before the breakout began, and he would smile at her between sentences.

“Do you think he’s looking at me? Or is it just me?” Jesse nudged me to look up, but instead I rolled my eyes.

“Jess, they’re always looking at you, don’t play dumb now.” My sister’s glasses broke last year, and she’s saving her final pair of contacts for only she knows what. Apocalypse problems.

It was on this night where the General revealed our new transportation method: covering yourself in blood to mask your scent.

“I doubt he does that, sounds like he looks so clean.”

“ If he has access to a bath, I’d marry him on the spot.” She nudges me again, and slowly pulls apart her hair braid pattern. Her raven hair drapes down to her waist. The General stumbles in his speech, and we both can barely contain ourselves. “Looks like he likes the look of you too.” Jesse smiles to herself. “Good thing he can’t smell you.”

“Shane.” She always gets so serious about the General; she never uses my full name. “Seriously, Shae, come on.” She presses her heeled boot into my toes and I wince, eyes bulging, “shut up please.”

I will admit: the General won’t take his eyes off of my sister even as he finishes his speech. She continues to play with her raven hair, looking forward as if he does not exist. He shifts in his seat and adjusts his military patches. His blond hair, pulled back in a ribbon, gleams under the stage lights.

The Moderator steps up to the podium, and taps the side of his ear to amplify his voice, “a warm thanks to General Daro. Remember, through these difficult times, we will prevail.”

I lean into Jesse’s ear, “if I hear that phrase one more-“

She leans into mine. “Fake smile, right now.” And I listen to her. But I’m not faking it, hearing her say that reminds me of the old days before this crisis. Before when we were sisters out on the town on a Saturday night, not packed into a former nuclear shelter, waiting underground for the Watch’s cue it is safe to exit. This girl didn’t pack enough clothing for the apocalypse, that much is certain.

Jesse thought he was going to propose. That’s why I gave her our late Mother’s locket. I tried to clean it against my shirt. It didn’t really remove the dirt, nothing is clean anymore, but Jesse’s bright blue eyes, same as mine, warmed as I handed it over.

I feel naked without its sentimental weight on my neck. I miss the slight pulse it would do against my chest as I pace back and forth in front of the window waiting for her signal. Something is wrong. I start to hear the howling of the Dead on the wind as the light fades. The Dead rise the moment the sun is gone. If she’s trapped, if she’s alone, or if the General has taken her to the colony, I need to know.

I rush to my pack, it’s light, but full of everything I need: family pictures, beef jerky, the lip balm we’ve been rationing for half a year, and my hunting knife.

“If you hesitate, you’re already dead.”

I pulled the knife hard through the neck of the Dead, feeling the bones and arteries pull and release as I do. The Dead’s legs squirm in AJ’s hands until it met true death.

“Good. I call her Rambo. My favorite. Remember-“

“If you hesitate, you’re already dead.” I pause, and watch the blood swirl across the blade. “How was Jesse’s training?”

“Our dear sister dropped the knife, and caught her own vomit as she tried to stop it. If this was a different world, that’d be good and fine, but…” I look to the tree line, where Jesse is hunched over, and waving at us that she’s okay. AJ follows my gaze, and we exchange a truth that’s harsher without words. The moment lasts forever. He unleashes another Dead from the shed.

“Again.”

It was a dog, I wonder what their names was, but quickly shake myself from that thought when it bares its teeth and I can see through its rotting jaw. I brace myself.

Buckets of blood are kept at the at the bottom of the stairs. The Watch leave them daily in exchange for what little food we can spare. But I didn’t have a chance to hunt today.

“No!” I kick the bucket hard, and it bounces back from the wall. I scramble to catch it as it rolls around all over the floor, and hold it close to my chest. I’m never this loud, especially at night. The problem isn’t if someone hears me, but something.

“I’m okay, I’m okay.” I mouth to myself, a silent prayer. I’m so still, it’s as if I’m hovering over myself. Nothing, not a sound, until, the back door suddenly jolts, someone or something pulls at it from the outside. I set the bucket down, and slide up against against the wall as flat as I can be. The way I used to hide under my duvet from monsters, thinking I was flat made me so.

The Dead’s skeletal hands claw up and down the doorway now; it’s weak and needs to feed. I hold my breath, and I think it’s backing away. I’m safe. Nothing happens for a few minutes, I’ll leave through the front.

A thunder-sounding boom blows the door off its hinges, and I fall forward onto my face due to whatever force of nature just did that. Bones crunch, and I’m lying in a pool of my own blood. Silence again. What in the hell- I hear it before I know what it is. Did the Dead use a horse to knock down the door? Something pulls on my leg, and I have half of my answer.

It’s a Dead all right. Scrambling for my pack, I twist around as I’m pulled through my own blood, but can barely see. This stupid thing broke my nose. It heaves and pants as it tries to pull my boot off searching for flesh. I kick it fiercely. If it bites me, and I’m infected, tonight will be my last night. “Get off of me!” I throw my pack at the Dead, and it hurls itself back, and screeches. It bites into my pack, and everything spills out, including my knife. My hands go for it, but the handle slides out of my hands. I donkey kick the beast right through my pack in the center of it’s chest, and it stumbles back, pieces of rib and flesh shower over me while I reach for my knife.

The Dead throws my pack aside and focuses it’s gaze on me. I hear it struggling to breathe, panting like a bitch in heat, it must be starving now and my blood everywhere is only turning up the temperature. I kick off against the wall, and launch myself towards it into the darkness.

I land on top of it, and grabbing its greasy hair, pull back hard and slice across the throat in one swift motion. “Disgusting,” I drop the head and it rolls away from me. But I’m not alone.

“Impressive.” Moonlight pools in from the empty door, and the stranger kneels down to examine the Dead’s head. He steps into the dark, now or never. Kicking out his legs, he tumbles fast, but catches himself, and somehow he lands on top of me, and we’re wrestling. “Novelty is so rare these days.” His voice echoes in the stairwell like my conscience used to inside my mind. Whoever this is, he’s enjoying it. Practically purring but I have places to be. “Violent, trained, and female.” It might be impossible to see, but I know he’s smirking, enough is enough, I plunge my knife into his abdomen and he hisses. “You’ll regret this.” Curiosity killed the cat, almost.

“No I won’t,” I twist the knife twice, and any air he had left in his lungs to say another stupid thing is exhaled. I extract the weapon and wipe his blood on my shirt. He’s passed out, well, good riddance. I struggle to stand thanks to the all of the blood that pools on the ground from the Dead, the stranger, and my own wounds. Naturally, I scoop up as much as I can and pour it over myself.

Peering out into the night, I see a Nightmare gracefully grazing from a piece of the Dead’s arm. The stranger must have given his horse a snack. “I remember when you used to eat apples, believe it or not.” The Nightmare’s tattered ears perk up, and red eyes pierce through mine leaving me breathless, I’ve never seen one this close before. I can see through her ribs, and chunks of flesh rot off of her even as she stands, but somehow, horses only look infected. Must be a testament to their spirit. I wonder if certain people could share the same fate. My heart skips. I go for her reigns and she nuzzles at my touch.

I get into the saddle; it’s eerily quiet, but that means there are no Dead close to me. I turn the Nightmare and we race to where Jesse was supposed to signal me. It’s a small tree house on the edge of the forest, which marks the halfway point to the colony from the center of the city. It has two windows Jesse was supposed to light the candles in.

The Nightmare runs fast, and as I dismount onto soft ground, she licks my wounded face. I feel a fresh tingle where her tongue licks, and can see better than before. My nose is healing, and I realize I’m standing on rose petals. They’re everywhere, like autumn leaves. He was going to propose. At the base of the tree house, I see why, and I grab at my empty neckline again. The Nightmare neighs and chuffs.

A Dead straddles and eats out the heart from the General’s chest, military patches ripped from his broken coat speckle amidst the petals. Blonde hair streaked red in the midnight sun. The Dead must have heard the Nightmare because it turns to face me.

“No, please, no.” My own gaze drifts down to the Dead’s chest, where my Mother’s heart shaped locket rests against rotting flesh. I lock eyes with my sister for the last time. She's gone. I know her blue eyes will haunt me until the day I die.

The Dead sees me, and fully fed, lunges fast, but I know her, even in this form, and duck to my left. She stumbles, and catches her feet on her dress, the lace we sewed by hand together this morning. I whimper, and tears cry down my face.

The Dead spins to face me, and with one hand I grab our Mother’s locket, while the other hand slices her head clean from her body. My sister falls into pieces on a bed of roses. Cradling the locket, I fall to my knees. Now it is all I have left of my family, as the Nightmare steps forward to feast on her flesh.