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A/N: Hey all. Thanks for the reviews. I'm really glad you like it! Anyway, this chapter starts out from a new character's PoV.
“Mom, slow down! You’re gonna get us in an accident, you bat!” I screamed. Mom was weaving in and out of traffic, driving like a maniac. It was like she had forgotten that me and my two little brothers were in the car too.
“Don’t yell at me, Fae. You’ll only distract me more.” she said calmly. I groaned and slouched in my seat. Don’t get me wrong, I love Washington DC and all of that, but there’s only so much patriotism a girl can swallow. We had been there for a week, count ‘em, seven days, and I had had enough propaganda shoved down my throat to start a whole ‘nother war against people who just weren’t American.
“Ha ha! Sissy got in trouble!” I heard one of my brothers tease. I turned around, holding up a fist.
“One more word out of either of you and I’ll. . .huh?” I broke off, staring out the back window. There was this huge storm on our tail. It rained and the wind blew for a bit. You could tell it was a really big wind, but most of it was blocked by the buildings, although a couple of windows shattered before the storm passed.
“That was a quick shower. Should help take the razor edge off of the heat, baby. Sure you don’t want to stay another week?” This good natured banter came from my mom.
It was the last thing I would ever hear her say.
In the next second, a wall of light flashed around us, entering the car as if it didn’t exist. I heard my mom and brothers screaming, coughing, and then the light faded. So did their noise, and I slowly uncovered my eyes. The car was still moving.
Right through a red light.
“Mom!” I screamed, grabbing the wheel out of her weakened hands and swerving it to the right. We still managed to get hit by three cars before everything stopped. I wiped my forehead, staring out the window.
“Geesum, mom. Way to pay attention to the road.” No response. No excited yelling from my brothers. I turned and looked at them.
Big mistake.
“Ahh! Ahh! Ahh! Mom! Holy shit! Someone help! Anyone!” I screeched. They were all slumped over, looking as though they had been shriveled like year old fruit. I managed to shove open my door and fell out on the street. A windshield near me broke as another car slammed into the pile and another body flew out at me. “Ahh! Ahh! Get it offa me!” I screamed, flailing away from the dry limbs that surrounded me. I crawled off of the street and crouched, catching my breath. Finally, I stood up, using a bench to steady myself. Of course, I had to look at the bench.
“Help.” rasped a voice. I looked at the man sitting there, and then shied away. He was shriveling right before my eyes, collapsing in on himself in a freaky way that I couldn’t imagine before then.
Then I fainted.
They walked around me as if I wasn’t there, just walking down the edge of the Mall as though nothing had happened. Well, they were crying and supporting one another, but other than that. . .
I stood up, and joined the crowd. We passed the Lincoln Monument, and a few more people joined the march. As we walked, we gained more and more refugees until we were a mob of about a hundred or so. Survivors, I guess. And we stormed the Capital Building’s lawn. I stayed at the back, just in case I had to run away from some huge bomb or anything. Me and my paranoid self, you know.
“I’m Deborah James, reporting live from the Capital Building, where Government Officials are expected to tell us exactly what is happening. All over the world, at about 8:45 this morning, a white light was seen, and then people started dieing. This epidemic, called The Shrivel by some doctors, has affected the entire Earth, from China to the good old United States.” I swiveled my head towards the voice. A reporter, complete with a camera crew, was broadcasting from a few feet away. Stupid news media. She continued in her report. “The Shrivel has been felt in more than just it’s initial motion. There has been a wave of secondary deaths, either from aftereffects of this sickness or in multiple crashes when the driver was Shriveled before stopping the vehicle. Excuse me, sir? Could I get a comment or two?”
I looked at the person she was addressing, a boy of about fifteen or sixteen, my age. He had on a blue tee-shirt with some nice knee-length shorts. His hair was dirty-blonde, kind of like a boarder’s, but not quite. His eyes were a dull green, and had a slightly haunted look in them, like he had seen too much. He turned towards the woman with a surprised blink.
“Um, sure, I guess.” His voice was cracked slightly, either from delayed puberty or from screaming or possibly crying, I really couldn’t tell what.
The news woman smiled. “Good. Where were you when this disaster struck?”
“In my hotel.” he said flatly, looking away.
“Mmm hmm. Did you see anyone be affected by the disease.” She thrust the microphone in his face, and he backed away.
“Yes.” His answer was curt, short, an ‘I wanna get outta here right now’ in disguise. The reporter didn’t catch on.
“Do you have any theories on what might have caused The Shrivel?”
“I really don’t want to talk right now.” he said quietly, turning to go.
“And. . ?” The woman still persisted, and I saw something snap in the boy’s eyes.
“Look, I have no idea what is happening to my family. I just saw an entire hotel and street full of dead people. I don’t know where most of my class is, and I just watched my best friend die in my arms. Is that enough?” he snapped. The reporter drew back in surprise.
“And how did your friend’s death affect you?” she asked finally. The boy just looked at her. She shoved the microphone at him, even as he tried to leave again. I felt sorry for the guy, and that chick wouldn’t leave him alone.
I guess I would just have to do something about that, wouldn’t I.
Chase
“And how did your friend’s death affect you?” the woman asked. I turned away, but she followed with the microphone. All I wanted to do right then was sit down and cry, and I was about to do it on live TV if she didn’t leave me alone.
“Hey, lady, leave him alone. He obviously doesn’t want to talk with you, get it?” A girl strode out of the crowd, face set in anger, arms crossed over her chest. I noticed her relaxed boy-shorts and black tank-top before I finally looked at her angry face. Her hair was a light blonde, drawn back in a ponytail with one strand lose so it framed one side of her face. Her brown eyes glittered dangerously, as though daring the reporter to keep bothering me, and I noticed the still-bleeding cuts on her arms and face.
“Yes, well then. We have a new interviewee. What do you think is the cause of this outbreak?” The woman focused on the girl, who sighed loudly.
“You really think I want to talk to you? I just watched my family die and was involved in a seven car pile up. Don’t mess with me, lady, or you’ll get burned.” she sneered, and the reporter quickly ended her segment and hurried away.
“Um, well, stay tuned for the address to the world that will be given here momentarily. This is Deborah James, saying back to you, Bob.” She shot us a glare and walked off. The girl smiled and brushed off her hands.
“Hmm.” she murmured happily, and turned to me. “Hi, I’m Fae Reeves. And you are. . ?”
“Chase Samson. Thanks for scaring her away.” I smiled weakly as she blinked in surprise.
“Chase.” she muttered, and a sad look crossed her face.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. She glanced at me before looking away.
“Chase and Darren were the name’s of my kid brothers.” Fae admitted, sounding a little choked. I put a hand on her shoulder.
“I’m sorry.
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault everyone died. If you said that to everyone who lost someone today, you would be saying ‘sorry’ until you ran out of breath!” She laughed, and for a moment, I was reminded of Whitney. I smiled back, though. That part of our lives was gone. Fae looked into my eyes, seeming to read them. “Yeah. They were from the before time. Pre-Shrivel.”
The name stuck.
Fae
“So, why were you here in DC?” I asked, trying to make conversation. Chase gave me a sideways glance. We had found a bench in the shade of a tree that had, miraculously, not been occupied by the living or the dead.
“Class trip. Each year, Mr. Simmons’ Social Studies comes down here to see ‘all of the history’. Lucky us, I guess.” He smiled slightly before returning the question. “How about you?”
“Family trip. I’m home schooled, or, at least, I was.” I felt myself frown. “I went to public school until about seventh grade, then my opinions got too big for the classroom. I was kinda sorta expelled, you know? Sit-in for more lunch time, organized by me of course.”
“Sounds like you’ve had an exciting life.” Chase said pleasantly. I laughed and shook my head.
“Yup, that’s me. Traveling from one peace protest to another. Yo ho, yo ho, a protester’s life for me!” I sang in a shaky soprano. Chase looked surprised, then clapped and laughed.
“That was good!” he cried, and then a haunted look entered his eyes. “You sound like Whitney.”
“Who’s Whitney? If you don’t mind. . .” He shook his head.
“She was my best friend, my girl-friend, I guess. She was. . .Shriveled.” Chase whispered. I averted my gaze.
“I’m sorry.”” I murmured. He smiled.
“Broke your own rule, Fae. Good job.” He laughed slightly as I punched him lightly in the arm.
“Rules are for squares!” I cried, flipping my hair, and then noticing the silence all around us. We looked up as one to see most of the crowd staring at us.
“Sorry.” Chase called, holding up his hands and smiling apologetically. The people turned away with a little murmur.
“Chase? I thought it was you!” I heard a voice call. We looked up again to see a black haired boy push his way through the crowd.
“Max?” Chase whispered, squinting. Then, he stood up, yelling. “Max!”
“Thought I’d see you here, buddy!” The boy ran over and commenced in a strange handshake with my new friend. I could only stare.
“Um, who?”
