Nothing could have prepared her for this.
Nick's ranting and raving about Gloria merely three months ago sounded like yet another heroin-induced delusion. Matt's fever, she had thought, was nothing more than just the flu everyone said was going around.
However, as time wore on, she was forced to confront her new reality. The dear neighbor who helped the family through Alicia's meltdowns became a snarling menace, arms outstretched through the fence in hopes of a meal. Swarms of rotting bodies groaned as they shuffled across sand dunes as she gathered supplies with the others. And, the most repulsing to her, a biter engorged with sea water clogged the Abigail's water filtration system, tainting what could have been her next shower.
But that was already in the past. The Abigail became nothing but a memory, as well as the man after whom it was named. Strand led them through Mexico for what felt like years after the death of his love, only to fall into a dangerous pattern of psychosis and alcohol abuse shortly before his self-inflicted demise. Travis and Chris disappeared into the desert and, though she hoped they were alive, most likely didn't make it. At least, that's the way Madison saw it. Alicia watched in horror as her mother crept into the cycle of alcohol abuse over the course of two weeks, though she wasn't nearly as damaged as Strand. She seemed to perk up a bit when Nick returned from his "exploration," as he called it. In the past, Madison would have been livid as she had been many times before throughout Nick's addiction, but the fact that he even survived five days alone in the desert was too much of a relief for Madison to analyze and criticize.
Now, three months after the outbreak, Alicia found herself back in Los Angeles, Mexico a distant memory better left untouched.
Madison sobered up for this day, unwilling even in her darkest corners to allow Ofelia, Nick, and Alicia venture out for supplies on their own. As expected, Nick adamantly denied any need for her company. Also as expected, Madison pulled the "you're an addict so you can't be trusted" card, to which Nick rarely responded. Ofelia avoided throwing herself in the middle of their confrontations, instead opting to focus on Alicia.
"How are you doing? They've been bickering a lot lately," Ofelia muttered under her breath, eyeing the mother and son thirty feet ahead of them, careful to keep her voice low.
"Fine." Alicia responded, albeit uninterested. She appreciated the fact that they finally made it past the taller buildings of the city and into the suburbs, each yard covered in either lifeless, brittle grass or chalky stones and cacti. She had few distractions for when Ofelia decided to poke and prod, which was every day, and figured pointing out how the dead grass looked like the grass in the Savanna was useless. She could feel Ofelia's eyes drilling into the side of her head, her peripheral vision confirming it. "What?"
"Are you sure you're okay?"
Alicia wanted nothing more than to roll her eyes. The arguments Ofelia thought were unsettling actually paled in comparison to when Nick was a teenager, sneaking out every night to score with his friends and returning a couple days later, frantic. "Yes."
"Okay, well...let me know if you need anything." Ofelia watched Alicia a moment longer, searching for any sign that Alicia would take up her offer and ease her nerves.
No such luck.
Finally.
"Oh sweet, a liquor store!" Nick's voice jolted Alicia back to the space ahead of her.
He jogged up to the barred windows, cupping his hands around his eyes to get a better look inside. He knocked on the glass between the bars and listened closely for any stirring within the store.
Alicia tightened her fists and pulled her chapped lips taut. Please, please... she begged any deity that may hear her internal pleas. The group was going on day two of no food. Alicia couldn't figure out what she hated more: the aching pit in her stomach or the jagged edges of skin across her lips. She relaxed her lips to run her tongue over them, instantly regretting the decision when the nerves beneath the cracked skin screamed back to her. Without thinking, she dug her nails into her palms at the sensation. Another mistake. A restrained sob croaked from her tightening throat. She hated the fact that she was thankful her dehydrated body couldn't muster up enough moisture to produce tears.
"It's okay, Alicia. I don't see any dead in there," Nick offered, turning his head slightly from the window.
She shook her head vigorously. Seriously?
"No? Can you hear any in there?" Madison took a step closer to her daughter, reaching out to stroke her arm.
Alicia slapped her hand away and choked on another sob. The frustration that had been building up over the past couple days was starting to boil over. Even worse, she couldn't find her voice to explain her distress, only further exasperating her. She continued shaking her head, desperately wishing the transparent doors to the store would open up so she could finally hear the crinkle of a Poptarts wrapper between her fingers, the sugary filling warming her tongue, and the smear of coconut or strawberry lip balm on her stinging lips.
But, instead, her family's usual unawareness drove her further and further into the unlocated pain ravaging her mind. It took every ounce of concentration she had to prevent her fingers from grabbing onto the roots of her hair and squeezing. "Food," she forced out in a husky whisper. "Food, food, food," she repeated, squeezing her eyes shut and pressing into her temples with the palms of her hands.
Ofelia scrambled to the door, ripping the board of wood from the handles and pulling the doors open, right hand immediately on the knife sheathed between her belt and jeans. After a sharp whistle and a kick to the ATM machine just inside the doorway, she turned, glaring at Madison. "Come on, Alicia," she held out her hand to Alicia, palm to the sky. The younger girl gently placed the tips of her fingers on the tips of Ofelia's, allowing the older girl to maintain contact as they entered the musty store.
The place was an utter wreck, with chairs carelessly thrown about, dirty papers towels and empty food wrappers littered across the floor. Dark, dried blood splattered the floors and walls. Red hand prints slid down the glass counter at the front of the store, continuing their path to the restroom in the back. Alicia grabbed Ofelia's hand, unable to stop her eyes from following the tracks to the dark blue door, barricaded by an overturned metal shelf.
Ofelia looked over her shoulder and immediately stopped to turn around and face her new-found sister. "It's in the bathroom, I have my knife. We're okay. This place doesn't look too bad, I bet you'll find something you'll like in here." She smiled, assuring, trying to get the wide-eyed brunette to look at her. Taking a few steps back and pulling Alicia with her, she grabbed an unopened bottle of water from the mess of items strewn upon what must have once been an organized shelf, keeping her eyes on Alicia. "Look, we've been needing this."
Alicia hesitantly turned her gaze to Ofelia's other hand, grasping a clear bottle of water with a blue label. "Thank you."
Ofelia sighed in relief as Alicia twisted the lid and wrapped her lips around the opening, guzzling down about half the bottle before she stopped to breathe.
"Here." Alicia handed Ofelia the bottle, and within seconds the remaining water was gone.
"Is it clear?" Madison peered in from beside the doorway, squinting to adjust to the darkness.
Nick strolled right in, caution to the wind. "I sure hope so, I'm not trying to become a snack on my search for some munchies."
"Nick," Madison warned. "Dark humor isn't exactly the best way to keep a light spirit in this situation."
Nick threw his hands up in surrender, back to Madison as he made his way over to the two girls in one of the snack aisles. "Anything good over here?"
Ofelia tossed another water bottle to Nick, then placed ten more in her backpack. "Can you get the rest?"
Nick went to work scavenging through the aisles for anything to drink, throwing each bottle he found into the disarray of his backpack. A glossy silver wrapper peeking out from under the shelves caught his eye. Excited, he snatched it and held it up for Alicia to see, a victorious smile plastered on his face. "Look Leesh, Poptarts."
"Poptarts?" Alicia whirled around, eyes bright, a laugh of pure joy bubbling out from her chest. "Really?!"
"Really really," Nick grinned and lobbed it over the shelf to Alicia. "I don't know what flavor it is, but I'll look for more."
"Thank you!" Alicia beamed at her brother before ripping at the package, immediately recognizing the light brown pastry with white icing squiggled over the top. "Cinnamon roll, my favorite!"
Ofelia felt a surge of glee course through her body. "You enjoy that, kid. Nick and I will pick up what we need." She glanced over to the open doors, a lock of blonde hair floating in the breeze by the entrance. "Madison? Are you standing guard?"
"Sure am," she replied, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over her chest. "This area seems to be dead, in the good way."
Alicia planted herself on a nearby chair. Her process for eating cinnamon roll Poptarts was precise, and could not be done any other way. It just wouldn't be right. She snapped off the long edges of the pastries, eating them as she went. Then, the shorter edges. The icing was the next to go, made somehow even more appetizing if it came off in larger pieces. Finally, she ate only the smaller pastry first, then the other. Though her hunger had overpowered most of her other senses for the previous half of the day, it was not so intense as to disrupt her specific pattern. Appetite satisfied, the burning issue of her lips became the next priority. "Ofelia, did you happen to see any chapstick anywhere?"
"Oh yeah, I think I saw some at the front counter," she called from the back of the store, hidden behind a cardboard cutout of a dinosaur from Jurassic World.
"Coconut, coconut, coconut," Alicia whispered to herself, hoping for yet another pleasant surprise as she marched to the bloody counter. A plastic container, to Alicia's elation, held tropical, strawberries and cream, and mint sticks of lip balm, destined to be shoved into her front pockets until they couldn't hold any more. The mint balm she settled on to soothe her lips first burned as she applied it, but this burn was that of relief.