(Update: 5/20/18 - The entire chapter has been revamped.)
(Tips: Read in dark font with any instrumental soundtrack you see fit.)
The geography lesson might be a little boring, but trust that it will be integral to understand and anticipate what's at stake.
New York City: The overpriced and culturally rich city that harbored millions of people from various parts of the world. There was so much to NYC that made it what it was—public transportation, the city skyscrapers, the 24-hour drive-thrus, the undying cars that sped around past midnight, and the exposure to so many faces that walked the streets.
Being a resident, there was so much to welcome and appreciate, just as much as there was to underrate and loathe: the infectious rats & unwarranted pigeons, late-night muggings, rowdy teenagers, and discourteous pedestrians that yelled at you for accidentally stepping on their shoes. But all in all, it's what enriched NYC into the big apple.
Unlike plenty of other cities, NYC was broken up into five different boroughs: Manhattan, Brooklyn, Bronx, Staten Island, and Queens. Manhattan was where all the money was. It's where all of the top-paying jobs were located including some of the greatest colleges. It was also the golden gate for tourist attractions.
Brooklyn and The Bronx weren't exactly known for its great reputation like Manhattan was. The two were typically stereotyped for its violence and inevitable gentrification, but it still had a great cultural history to it and many natives did what they could to uplift their communities atmosphere for at-risk youth.
Staten Island was pretty self-explanatory. It was the one borough that others felt was isolated from the four other districts. Some would even argue that it wasn't even considered a district at all. Ultimately, the wealthiest people usually live here.
Queens was probably the keenest combination of the other four burrows into one. It was the largest borough of all, but everything about it was plenty mediocre. The houses were decent as well as the people. Queens was the primary source of NYC's diverse and rich culture. Even though people rathered sticking to their own ethnic groups, people from all over congregated in Queens. There were over one hundred spoken languages and it had the second highest population. While that was the kind of representation for any resident of Queens to have sinful pride in, there was more to Queens than the many interesting people the dwelled within.
There was something small and arguably insignificant, something that others would consider meaningless than the many notably important things and people around them: It was a small family that lived in a relatively nice, middle-class neighborhood, but because of the majority of minorities there, it was considered an "urban" part of Queens, despite its average household income. Today was going to be the day that their lives and every other New Yorker's life would change forever.
People may agree to disagree on whether or not NYC's population was something to brag about.
Anything minimal, positive or negative, had the potential to affect hundreds. So what if something really terrible happened-astronomical? Could it be an asset or a liability?
Pandora Chadwell was an independent woman in her early fifties. Head of her household. She was a woman born on a small island in the West Indies and moved to America in hopes of finding the rumored 'American dream' for herself and, at the time, planned family. She was biracial, being half Afro-Caribbean and half Native, having a father indigenous to the people of her home country. She had straight, shoulder-length, jet black hair, and warm ochre brown skin. She wasn't ethnically ambiguous, therefore she shared subtle features that still read as Black—or as politically correct others said—African American. More suitable for someone her age, she was small-boned, possessed an average frame with wide hips and thighs, and stood around five feet, four inches.
Lastly, she had a noticeably mild accent, which her American children, except for one, never developed.
Life, in general, wasn't an easy journey for anyone. Both back home and in America, Dora had her run-ins with some pretty shitty men in her life, and the father of her last two children was the reason she decided to call it quits with searching for a reliable partner. As much as America preached it, there were discrepancies on how you were treated based on many things like your skin color, gender, and creed, but there was nothing much a middle-aged immigrant mother could do. She often wondered what her life would look like if those things truly didn't matter. Instead, Dora decided that all she needed to rely on were her two cats, dog, and undying faith in God.
Even after a long day at work, her job as a mother was never put on pause. She was in the kitchen, standing over four hot pots of food. Today was one of those days where she felt like cooking a full course meal, she took pride in her cooking. She was one out ten children, and it was basic that women knew how to cook from a young age, especially during the time and place she grew up. However, coming to America, she realized that such standards were something for the outdated and having children in this country meant having them build their own identity based on the life they experience.
Dora wasn't exactly thrilled with the outcome of her children, because she felt she failed at instilling the uttermost important thing in her children, and that was an undying faith in God.
Her oldest was in graduate school, currently studying for his Ph.D. in the sciences. Science and God together? His mind was pretty much made up the second he took a science course.
Her second born decisively eloped with her high school sweetheart soon after graduation. She ended up joining the military, started a family of her own and had relocated so many times that Dora could barely list all of them.
The last two were both high school seniors and were probably the most vocal and rebellious. They were respectful but were raised in the generation where they believed you had to challenge everything you thought was a double standard. So the 'teachings of the pastor' was definitely something they double teamed Dora over.
With the way her children had turned out, it was all a part of the unanticipated journey of adolescence and adulthood and she was glad to say that the children of today had a bit more free will than she did as a child. Because of them, they also helped mold her into the more open-minded individual she was today. Overall, Dora was proud to say that they were all productive children in society and that she undeniably compared others children to her own, especially the children of her siblings—many of which were back in her home country.
Dora dabbed her forehead with a wet cloth and glanced over at the clock on the oven. It was past four o'clock in the evening and that was the time her last two usually came out from school. Her daughter did better academically and had a full ride to Berkley in hopes of majoring in psychology. She was a bit more disciplined, so her straight-A grades enabled her to finish classes at an earlier time. But for some odd reason, Dora couldn't get in touch with her.
Giving her arm a break from tirelessly stirring her pot, she reached for her phone sitting on the kitchen counter. She selected her youngest son's name: Jolyn. Using her shoulder to hold her phone up to her ear, she concentrated on her cooking, removing her pork ribs from the oven.
"Hello?" Jolyn answered.
"Jolyn?" Dora said charismatically, having a natural projection in her voice, "Hi!"
"Yeah, mom?" Jolyn answered, already eager to get off the phone with her, as all teenagers did, "What is it?"
"Is Ada with you?'
"No, didn't she text you?"
"No…" Dora said, taking off her oven mitts and throwing them on the counter. This time, she held the phone in her hand.
"Well, she texted me after sixth period and said she was heading to work."
"I've been trying to get a hold of her all day, so why hasn't she answered me, nah?"
'Nah' was an expression a lot of West Indians used. It wasn't used as the alternative answer for 'no' or to decline something; the West Indian version was like a verbal question mark and it was exclaimed at the end of a sentence when the user was especially desperate for a clear answer.
"I don't know, maybe it had something to do with your argument over her hair yesterday?" He responded sarcastically, "Mom, I gotta go."
"Jolyn—"
Dora listened in, hearing Jolyn burst into sudden laughter with a group of other teenagers. Dora could hear one of them swear like a sailor, but shrugged it off, understanding that teenagers will be teenagers. If anything, she would just question him about it once he came home. After he hung up, she tried calling her daughter one last time. The phone rang off the hook until it went straight to voicemail,
"Hey! You've reached Ada. Just leave a message and I'll try to get back to you!"
"Ada. I called you six times already. Six! I need to know if you're okay. Call me back when you get the chance, okay?"
She hung up the phone with the rolling of her eyes. Seeing that she was finally finished cooking, she turned off the stove & oven and decided to walk into the living room and relax. She just couldn't figure out why she was cooking for two American brats who rarely showed their appreciation for their mother who had to work twice as hard to get where they were in life. Having a plate of food on the table was a luxury that even most New Yorkers—hell, Americans, didn't get to have.
Jolyn was the last child who took physical traits heavily after his father with some of his mother's look blended in here and there. Usually, a parent is harder on their daughters, but Dora could always tell Jolyn was a bit different the moment she laid eyes on him in the hospital. He was a very quiet and sensitive boy in his younger years and because of that, he was overprotected. He became a reserved and aloof child, and he only opened up to people he became really close with.
Naturally, he was very open-minded and a creative. He was tall, very thin and had a charming face that he was wildly underwhelmed by. His skin was a mild sepia color, having a bit of a reddish undertone if you looked closely. Due to the ancestry on his mother's side and whatever on his father's, Jolyn possessed features that either made him pass off as Indian, Black or ambiguous. Depending on who was looking at him. He identified as Black and even if it was all he saw when he looked in the mirror, he acknowledged how he was perceived by others and how it affected the way he was treated.
He possessed a mini afro with many curls similar to the loose curls of a sheep's curl...so he's heard before. It wasn't the first comparison he'd accept, but it was one of the most accurate ones he had ever heard of.
Every day after school Jolyn would spend some time with his beloved clique of friends. Even if they luckily shared the same lunch period, they just couldn't get enough time with one another. They were people he knew and spoke to every now and then throughout high school, but some greater force brought them closer together during their senior year of high school. There was about seven of them and Jolyn made the eighth. They were gathered at the park that was only a couple of minutes away from their high school.
While the rest of his friends were on the swing sets or on their phones, Jolyn spoke privately with one of his photogenic friends, Sanjeet. They both sat across from one another on green plastic benches. Like all the tables at the park, their table was ingrained with a chess board on the top of it, with no plans to pay attention to it.
"Yo, have you ever smoked weed before?" Sanjeet randomly sparked.
"I already told you," Jolyn looked appalled, "I'd never do drugs."
"Didn't you say that during your freshman year about alcohol?" Sanjeet reminded with a smirk.
Jolyn failed at containing his blush before answering.
"Yeah, but that's different."
"Different?! How so?"
They bother laughed,
"Because alcohol isn't a drug!"
"Eh, technically it is…" Sanjeet turned and looked over at one of their friends, Deeva. She wasn't exactly a nerd or anything. She was just one of those friends who knew random facts about everything, "Isn't it?"
"It is. A recreational one," Deeva educated.
Sanjeet wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed and had nothing to offer but good looks and chiseled abs. So getting one over Jolyn was like a victory for him.
"HA!" Sanjeet pointed. He then proceeded to wave his hands in the air and groove.
"Drinking alcohol has ethanol and is a depressant, remember?" Said Deeva.
"Oh, yeah…" Jolyn smiled with embarrassment, "I forgot that we learned about that in chemistry class."
"So congrats, you experimented with drugs before…" Sanjeet laughed along with Deeva.
Suddenly, one of their friends, Stefani, came running along with three other friends. Holding her cell, she announced that their cousin in California sent them a leaked video of some controversial conspiracy video. They all instantly huddled around one another. Some had a hard time trying to get a good view from certain angles,
"Oh my god, is he biting him!?" One of the friends exclaimed, covering her mouth in shock.
"I-I can't see anything!" Jolyn whined, standing five feet nine inches taller than most of his other friends,"
"That's sick. I'm seriously about to throw up," another friend said.
"I'll just send it to you guys," the friend said, stopping halfway through the video.
Before they knew it, they were all individually watching the same video on their own phones. Jolyn was unaware of what was going on in everyone else's mind, but what Jolyn saw was unbelievable. The leaked footage was from different perspectives. Overall, it showed an incident that happened in the middle of a Los Angeles freeway. A dead man was laid out on a stretcher...or he at least seemed dead. Before the EMT could lift the stretcher off the pavement, he reached over the body. Suddenly, the 'dead' man jumped up and attacked the EMT. It was hard to tell from the view, but it looked like he was biting into the EMT's neck,
"What the hell…" Sanjeet said, "That's gotta be bath salts or something."
"Oh please, that isn't real," one of the girls answered.
"Who are you to say it isn't?" Another friend answered, "Cannibals exist, don't they? Wasn't there something like this before where that guy ate another guy's face off?"
"Yeah! And he was on bath salts!" Sanjeet confirmed.
"Oh please," the same friend said, "They shot him and he's…"
The most Jolyn focused on the video, the voices of his friends faded into soft echoes that sounded like they were distancing themselves miles off in a tunnel. They were basically being tuned out the more he replayed a specific part where the victim was being shot at multiple times in the chest. He sustained the injuries, having no effect. The strange man just kept walking forward no matter what happened. Jolyn scrolled the video back over and over again, studying the floundering walk of the man in the video. Although he was walking, there was strangely no sign of life in him.
Until he got a final gunshot to the head, the victim finally fell to the floor. Just as the gunshot went off, one of his friends slammed their palm on the table, shouting "Jolyn!" at the same time. He jumped, almost dropping his phone. All of his friends laughed at how easily spooked he was. He, however, was the only one who wasn't laughing.
"Man, that isn't funny!" Jolyn said, quite irritated.
"Calm down," one of his friends teased, "Come on, you aren't actually bugged by that video are you?"
"Don't you think it's all weird? People randomly falling sick and stuff. Barely anyone showed up in school today…" Stefani reminded.
"So you're saying you think it's real?" Sanjeet questioned.
Well, it can't just be coincidence Jolyn thought as his friend chattered. Jolyn readjusted his attention back to his phone and did an immediate quick search on the internet.
As a person in the golden age of technology, you were lured into inauspicious things on the web like a naive child. The only difference was that you could hold on to two or more things at the same time.
Conspiracies were something that Jolyn had a keen interest in before slowly weaning himself off of it in his senior years. The interest in government conspiracy theories came from a place of doubt and fear, because somewhere deep down, people never really trusted their government. People used it either to cope with fear or to give themselves reassurance; others used it as a scare tactic and for propaganda. Especially when your government has been showing their ass for the past hundreds of years and seemed to get into the habit of it.
He remembered accidentally coming across niche threads like these all over the internet; where people spoke about reanimation linked to testbeds and chemical warfare. It was far beyond Jolyn's comprehension, but he remembered always chatting online to a kid named Tobias; someone who also mentioned living in LA.
At this point, the video had become a viral conspiracy with recorded proof of the actual traffic backup on the Los Angeles news. The only thing that had not been confirmed was the shooting incident.
Jolyn immediately put his phone in his pocket and dismissed himself from his friends' conversation.
"Well, I'm gonna go," Jolyn grabbed his bag, "Got a big dinner to eat and I gotta finish that book report that I haven't started yet."
His friends waved goodbye, finding it a little odd that he was the first to leave when he was usually the last to ever want to go home and be with his mother.
Adaline was Jolyn's [fraternal] twin sister and she was older by only eight minutes. She was the most responsible, but she knew how to unwind and socialize. Unlike Jolyn, Ada was appreciative of her looks. She was slim and pretty, but completely devoid of cockiness, therefore she understood that she wasn't everyone's cup of tea and always valued her judgment and social stance over her looks.
Her style was unusual and it had something to do with the current position she and her mom were in right now. She had recently dyed her hair rose-gold, still blended in with her natural dark brown roots. She wasn't punk, goth or a part of any kind of trending fashion scene. She just rather stand out. She was so sick of people conforming just to be accepted in society, and this was her way of rebelling. She shared features like her brother: Same skin tone with mildly visible freckles around her nose and eyes. She got most of her mother's looks with a few her father's and was more readable as Black with a slight mixture of something else. She possessed full lips and a cute nose and straightened hair that fell a little bit past her shoulders.
Ada worked as a babysitter at a local babysitting center that was of equal distance from both home and school. She was somewhat of an activist, prioritizing human rights, especially that of women and people of color. It, in some way, linked to why she had such a soft spot for younger children. Through her very limited experiences, she's met and come across people who just needed some care and mentorship their whole life, and she felt that she could at least try to be that type of person starting at the daycare center.
Ada sat at one of the smaller tables, smiling and enjoying the company with one of the children who was drawing pictures of themselves and Ada,
"Is that me and you?" Ada inquired the young artist. After the little girl nodded, Ada giggled with full flattery, "You made me look so pretty and even colored the hair the right color, Celine!"
Carlos, one of Ada's coworkers, exited the daycare office. He was a tall Filipino boy who she knew from high school and they kept up with one another after he graduated. Minding his own business, he walked into the room and changed the channel on the television to hear an important news report. Ada momentarily looked away from Celine's drawing and watched the television. Her smile slowly faded as she made out the headline that read 'Mass Deaths Recorded Across States From Unknown Virus'.
"Can you turn up the volume...please?" Ada requested. Carlos kindly did as she asked, sitting closely to Ada and Celine's small table, "That's scary. Do you think it's the reason why only five kids showed up at the daycare center today?" Ada questioned.
"Could be…" Carlos looked at Ada from the side and could identify her anxiousness by the shaking of her leg. After he softly rested his palm on her thigh, she looked up at him, "Go ahead and call her, okay? Go ahead, I'll watch Celine and Max."
Ada nodded and grabbed her phone as she got up and walked into the kitchen. As she unlocked her phone screen, she saw the notifications eight missed calls and three unopened text messages. Right away, she returned her mother's call and rested by the kitchen sink. Dora answered her own in no time.
"...H-hey, mom," Ada responded.
"Ada, I was calling you all day, what happened?"
"Sorry, I…" Ada rested her palm on her forehead and quickly thought of some excuses, "I was probably busy. Maybe I was on the train. You know there's no service underground…"
"Okay. What was I calling to tell you again?" Dora said, attempting to recall her reason for calling, "Right! I cooked some pork ribs for you and Jolyn, so there's a plate of food waiting for you on the table, okay?"
"Okay, mommy. Thank you," Ada said, clearing her throat. She glanced over at the television from where she stood, nervously rocking back and forth on the sink counter, "H-how are you feeling? Are you feeling okay? Do you feel sick or anything?"
"No. I'm just tired, but other than that, I feel fine. Why?"
"Are you watching the news?"
"Well, yes."
Ada paused,
"What do you make of all of it?"
A paused told Ada that Dora was obviously doing some thinking,
"Maybe it's like the swine flu scare that we had last year."
"No, mommy," Her voice softened, to avoid alarm from others, mainly the children, in the next room, "This is different. They're saying people are dying in masses. Something's wrong. Today, barely anyone showed up at school today, kids have gone missing, and only five parents brought their kids to the daycare center; more kids showed up during that crazy blizzard we had earlier this year."
"Well, that is a bit unusual..." Dora said, growing worried from her daughter's discomfort, "But it's nothing to worry about. You'll be okay. Just...come home right away after work, okay?"
"Yeah…"
"Okay, bye, Ada."
"Bye. Love you, mom."
"Love you, too."
Ada rested her phone on the counter beside the sink and washed her hands, splashing a little water on her face to hopefully calm her nerves. Reaching over to grab a paper towel, she nearly shouted at the sight of Carlos spying on her from the corner of her eye. He was leaning on the refrigerator. She covered her mouth and let out a nervous chuckle as he laughed with her. She held her chest and let out a huge breath,
"Carlos," she smiled, "You scared me."
"Sorry about that," he said, flashing his appealing smile to her, "Sounds like that went well."
"It did…"
Carlos pushed himself off the refrigerator and prowled toward her. Once they were face-to-face, he looked down at her and linked his arms around her waist, pressing his body up against hers,
"Either one of you apologize?" He said, sounding more sensual than usual.
Ada scoffed,
"West Indian parents never apologize. The word 'sorry' never escapes their lips, because apologizing would actually mean acknowledging what you did wrong.
"Hey, hey, hey, do not take all the credit. Filipino moms can be like that too." Carlos joked.
They both shared some laughter.
"Did you speak to yours?"
"I texted her. She said she's fine. She hasn't really been up to much other than being depressed ever since dad died of cancer. Seeing her like that just frustrates me sometimes," He paused, still having Ada wrapped in his arms, "He was my dad but you don't see me giving up on everyone."
"Give her time," Ada suggested, "He was your dad, but she's still his wife. She's known him her entire life and when something like that is just...forcefully taken away from you, I can't even imagine what that's like."
"I guess you're right…" Carlos admitted after giving some thought.
Completely riveted by her words, Carlos leaned in and gave Ada a soft peck on the lips. Their smooch was rather soft and passionate, but Ada had to cut it short, taking the company of the children very seriously. She accepted one last kiss from Carlos and he returned to the dining area to monitor Max and Celine. Peering at them through the open space in the kitchen, Ada proceeded to read her missed text messages from Jolyn.
Hey, where are you? Mom's been calling you all day was a message sent at 4:10 PM
CHECK OUT THE VID I POSTED ON MY FACEBOOK was the last message sent at 5:18 PM in all caps.
After replying, she did exactly as told. Ada logged into her Facebook account and looked at the video that her brother tagged her and many others in. His social media presence wasn't huge, but it seemed to be a video that was certainly gaining traction. Ada was shocked by the video and covered her mouth once she saw the gunshots. The unintentional volume of her phone notified the others in the room.
Over time, Ada and Carlos were the last two at the daycare center, doing things that their mothers would probably condemn. It involved a lot of intimacy and inappropriate touching, but it went no further than that. When the time came, it was time to clean up the rooms and lock the place down for the night. Since there was a lack of rugrats today, there wasn't much tidying up to complete.
What normally would be an hour of endless vacuuming and nitty-gritty carpet scrubbing, was only a few pickups and dirty dishes. Before Carlos and Ada knew it, they were already headed for the exit. Ada was the first to walk out and noticed a figure that definitely matched Jolyn's skinny frame. They were just outside the daycare center, leaning on the black railing of the ramp that mazed towards the elevated porch.
"Jolyn?" Ada called, getting no answer. Ada watched him slowly sway back and forth in the same spot continuously. She identified his graphic shirt from the back, immediately recognizing his minimalist style, "Jolyn!" Ada called again, this time more sternly.
Still, there was no reaction from him. As Carlos proceeded to lock up, Ada walked ahead and slowly made her way down the ramp. She stopped midway just before exiting, standing in the spot where Jolyn had his back turned. She reached forward and poked his shoulder. Quite startled, he turned around and revealed headphones pushed into his ears with maximum volume. His dull 'swaying' was his way of bopping to his depressing alternative R&B music. Yanking them out by the cord, he tossed them over his shoulder like one would a beach towel,
"Oh, hey," he greeted.
basically relieved. She tucked one side of her hair behind her ear,
"Why do you do that?" Ada asked,
"Do what?"
"Block everything out with those headphones? I was calling you and you weren't even aware," Ada made gestures and motions with her hands, "I thought something was wrong with you. What if I was a guy with a shank or something!"
"A shank?" Jolyn made a face, "What is this? A daycare for ex-convicts? You sound just like mom," Jolyn leaned over to glance over Ada's shoulder, "Hey, Carlos!" He waved.
"Hey, Jolyn. Sup?"
"Just came to pick up your mistress."
Ada slapped him in the chest with the back of her palm.
"Carlos, I'm gonna take the bus home with Jolyn instead," She informed while looking back.
"You sure you don't need a ride home?"
"Uh!" Jolyn interrupted with his hand up, "We'd very much like a ride home!?" Jolyn answered for Ada.
Ada continued walking, fully making her way down the ramp and circled towards her brother. She forcefully made him do an about face,
"It's nice out and we need to talk."
"See you tomorrow then…" Carlos waved.
As they both walked down the sidewalk, Ada hooked her arm unto her brother's while they happily sauntered down the sidewalk famous for it gum stains. While walking past a black dumpster beside a small, fenced off area, a man suddenly jumped out from behind it. He was pale with one of the skinniest noses the twins had ever seen. His grey beard was long and matted just like the hair atop his head. He let off a putrid scent that stung the sibling's noses, even as distant as they tried to keep themselves.
He was sobbing, and his face glistened in tears like he had been in endless turmoil.
"She's gone! SHE'S GONE! And it...was death's fault!" The homeless man screamed while sobbing, "It was death's fault!" he repeated over and over again before stepping closer to the siblings. He reached forward and grabbed Ada's arm,
"L-let go of me!" Ada struggled.
"I SAW IT WITH MY OWN EYES! DEATH CAME OUT OF HER! DEATH WILL COME FOR YOU!" He pointed at Jolyn, "DEATH WILL COME FOR HIM! DEATH WILL COME OUT OF ALL OF US! DEATH—!"
To cut his session short, Jolyn stepped in,
"Yo, back off!" Jolyn pushed the senile man off of Ada, indirectly causing him to rip the shoulder of her white top.
"HEY!" Carlos barked from the parking lot, still being in close range.
He power walked out from behind the brick wall that separated the parking lot from the sidewalks. The homeless man then grabbed and shook Jolyn by the shoulders and started rambling unintelligible words. Jolyn pushed him far more aggressively, this time pushing him into a trash bin at the edge of the sidewalk. The homeless man tripped over two trash bags and stumbled into the road that merged into the freeway. Suddenly, a burgundy Mercedes ran into the bearded homeless man, having the impact forcefully slam him into the windshield. Considering that it was a busy road, the man's body bounced off the car and slammed into another. As the second car skidded to a stop, the strange man rolled off the cracked windshield and rolled onto the dark pavement.
The teenagers were in total shock by how quickly things escalated and were all stunned, giving dissimilar, yet shocked, reactions.
The driver of the Mercedes exited their car and began to screech once she saw the body.
Being partially blocked from the angles of stilled cars, Carlos decided to take a closer look. From where Ada and Jolyn stood, they could tell something was wrong after Carlos looked deeply saddened. Melancholy and burnt rubber was all that was present at this point. Nosey and noisy bystanders and residents inside of their apartments looked at the accident, all interested in what happened.
Jolyn was afraid of the anticipated news, and he watched Carlos exchange a couple of words with the drivers involved in the accident. The woman who screamed couldn't contain her emotions. She was a nervous wreck and was crying in her driver's seat as she was on the phone with the police. Carlos nodded after one last exchange and jogged right back to the siblings,
"Carlos…" Ada wondered, "Is he okay...?"
Carlos took a deep breath and shook his head, unable to look at either of them in the eyes.
"He's dead."
Jolyn couldn't bear to hear those words. He instantly dropped into a squat, burying his face into his palms. Ada kneeled beside him, wrapping her arms around him and rubbing his back as he released hysteric yet silent sobs. Ada could feel the intense shaking of her brother's body, and all she could do was be there to comfort him.
Long after the police and ambulance had finally arrived, they put the deceased's body on a stretcher before covering the entire body with a white sheet. He was immediately pronounced dead after their arrival. All that was left exposed was the man's right hand. It was nearly ten o'clock at this point, and no one had gone home yet. The area was lit by multiple car blinkers and red & blue emergency lights from both the ambulance and cop cars. Looking over, Ada could see news reporters, just about prepared to get their inside scoop.
One of the cops, wearing your typical navy NYPD attire, walked away from his conversation with one of his comrades in the street and returned to the sidewalk to speak with the teenagers, sitting on the edge of the sidewalk, who had confessed their involvement in the current situation.
"So you said you pushed him correct?" The cop asked Jolyn. Jolyn nodded, eyes still glossy and dingy from the trauma, "But you said that it was after he was antagonizing you and your sister, is that correct?"
"...Not really antagonizing. But he was going off about something to me and my sister. It didn't make any sense," Jolyn said, still perplexed by it all, "Something about death coming out of us."
"Well, you've got witnesses here. People said they saw what he was doing and you won't be held accountable for anything."
"Okay...but…" Jolyn briefly paused, "Why?" Jolyn asked in confusion.
"Look, kid. For now, he's a John Doe without any identification and it wasn't your fault okay? Besides, he was probably some junkie who was doped up on drugs or something. Cases like this happen all the time and there's really nothing we can do about it…"
Jolyn felt a little underwhelmed. He was thankful his name was clear, but guilt got the best of him in terms of what would happen to the victim afterward. He paused before answering,
"Why because he's homeless?!" Jolyn snapped, "He's still a person."
"Listen to me, alright?" The cop asserted, "You're lucky enough you even have witnesses here for me to let you go okay? Something like this is actually pretty serious if you did it on purpose. Do you know what that's called? It's called murder. Now, do you want to look at me in the face and tell me that you…" He pointed at Jolyn, and then back to the white sheet in the road, "Murdered that man?"
Jolyn became tearful again and shook his head. The cop knew when to be more delicate with the situation, but harshness was needed so Jolyn could face the facts of it all,
"I've been a cop many years and dealt with situations like this. Don't beat yourself up over this, okay? It was an accident."
"So, there's nothing you can do for him?"
"We can try, but other than that...that's just how the law works for something like this. No one was responsible. We'll contact you tomorrow to fill out a police report, but as for right now, you kids should really be getting home. No one deserves to see this."
"Come on, Jolyn. He's right…" Ada added, "Carlos is gonna give us a ride home."
Jolyn faced the opposite direction and was welcomed into the arms of his sister and Carlos. However, the owner of the burgundy Mercedes began shrieking. All three of them turned around and listened,
"Officer! I-I saw his hand move! I swear to God I did!" The driver announced.
Carlos was the first to quickly dismiss the woman's paranoia and quickly called Jolyn and Ada to join him. Jolyn and Ada briefly exchanged glances that spoke the same exact questions they immediately understood. They walked into the parking lot, carefully maneuvering around the cops that were directing other backed up cars, to the main road. The cars were basically led through the parking lot, to circle around the accident, and exit out the other end.
Once they all sat in the car, Carlos didn't waste any time in starting up his Volkswagen. Looking back to reverse, he had no choice but to encounter the horrid look on Jolyn's face once again,
"You alright?" he questioned considerately, not having his concentration broken.
All Jolyn could do was shrug.
Next, Ada was answering her phone, bickering back and forth with who was presumably her mother on her whereabouts and what was taking her and Jolyn to get home. Repeatedly telling her mother that she'd "Tell her when she got home," she hung up the phone and groaned in exasperation.
Carlos successfully backed out of his parking space and drove towards the exit of the parking lot. Once the car got moving, Carlos slammed the breaks without warning,
"What the hell, man!" Carlos roared, attempting to sink his palm into the center of his steering wheel. Do people not learn?!" Carlos looked through the window on the passenger's side, seeing the same inquisitive bystanders beam back into their apartments or down the streets, "The hell are they running from?"
Carlos looked at Ada, expecting some type of back up from the girl who rarely agreed with him, but as he watched her, it was obvious that she shaking in her seat and had her attention in a totally different direction. It wasn't too long before they all followed Ada's gaze and noticed that the beggar was now sitting up in the middle of the road. As the white sheet slid off and revealed his face, there was something ominous and that wasn't present in any human life on earth. Despite the multiple chatter and cars speeding on the freeway beside, everything became dead silent. The only thing that could be heard was the trepidation that swelled in one's own heartbeat.
At this point, the homeless man had made it to his feet was stumbling and strolling to whoever was in his sights with a visible bone protruding out of his right arm. The cops were already cautious of what was happening in front of their very eyes but, like everyone else, probably assumed that he really must have been some junkie high on some shit you'd find in South America.
Backed up in the narrow and curved path of the parking lot, the cars behind the teens honked for Carlos to get a move on, presumably wanting to get the hell out of there.
"Go, Carlos!" Jolyn gulped.
Carlos sped off without a second's thought and hit the highway for the quickest route home. He looked in the rearview mirrors. They all looked back until, what was happening, was no longer in view. The last thing seen was police officers withdrawing their firearms.
Out of all the houses in the neighborhood, the Chadwell's house was amongst the few, two-story row houses in their block. Every other house was your average home and they always looked much ornamental and bigger from the outside.
Once Carlos pulled up to their house that sat at the very end of the block, Jolyn quickly expressed his bitter farewell and exited from the backseat of the minivan without even waiting for a reply. Carlos briskly rolled down his window and called out him,
"Jolyn! Hey, Jolyn! Where are you going?" Carlos pressed.
But Jolyn didn't respond. He was seen digging for the house keys and entered the house like he was being chased by something demonic.
"Why is he like this, man?" Carlos asked looking at Ada, "Freaking out over everything? We have to talk about what we saw."
"He obviously doesn't want to…" Ada understood, still having an obvious shakiness in her voice.
"But, I saw it too! He's so dramatic about—"
"Shut up, Carlos!" She snapped, "Please, just shut up. We get it. Not everyone is so thick-skinned like you."
Carlos didn't bother to retaliate because he knew it was going to be a never-ending confrontation. He put his car into the parked gear and powered off the car. Being double-parked, he toggled on his hazard flashers so that the cars that drove through the block could easily drive right past without any issue. They sat in quietness for a while, having the street lights color their dark environment, each time is changed, behind the windshield.
"What the hell did we see, Ada?"
Ada shook her head and folded her lips inward before talking,
"I don't know," she whispered. She looked over at him, "The news reports, the video, that beggar. I feel like...all of that stuff is connected."
"What video?" Carlos pried.
"There's a leaked video going around of some guy killing EMTs on a freeway in LA. Like...eating them, Carlos. And before they take him out, he's shot four times in the chest," she exhaled shakingly, recalling every second the footage, "He falls to his knees, but he gets right back up before they finally shoot him in the head."
"No one can survive a shot to the head…" Carlos said, briefly looking over.
"But no one can survive five shots to the chest either, can they? Not even with a bulletproof vest on," she shook her head, "The point is that people thought that the man in the video was dead. We thought that homeless guy was dead...and they weren't."
"But what if they were?" Carlos wondered, following up with non-lexical vocals to mock The X-Files theme song. He looked over with a light chuckle, hoping to lighten the mood. Seeing that nothing worked, Carlos presented his palm and Ada held it, "Will I see you tomorrow?"
Ada nodded without much to say. She gave him a quick peck on the mouth and exited the car. As she walked around the front of the van, Carlos stuck his head out the window,
"Can I get one more?"
"No," Ada smiled, approaching the steps to her yard.
"Look at my face!" Carlos said making the ugliest frown on the face of the earth, Ada didn't budge, "If you don't give me one more kiss, I'm gonna sing for you like last time."
"Please don't…" Ada said with an exhausted grin.
Channeling his inner Whitney, Carlos began,
"And iiiiiiiiiiiiiii-eeeeeee-iiiiiiiiiiiii-eeeeee-iiiiiiiii," he purposely took the most dramatic breath ever, "WILL ALWAYS—"
"Okay! Okay! Shhh!" Ada quickly dashed back to the driver's side and gave Carlos a couple more smooches through the opened window, having him hold her chin with his digits. As she backed away from the window, Carlos remained parked until she made it into her house safe and sound. After she vanished, Carlos' pleasure didn't last too long. He exhaled and rested his head back, unable to get his mind off that homeless man back at the daycare center.
What the hell could have happened after they left?