The Past And The Present (11)

There I was, in my bed. At home.

8 years, before I met Julie and she slowly turned me into a human again. Before I killed Perry, before I was bitten and infected with the plague.

I was at home. And it was the day I died.

How was that possible?

Suddenly my head hurt so much, that I had to bury my face in my hands. A groan escaped my dry throat - dry, because I was incredibly thirsty. It almost sounded, as if I was dead again, not being able to express myself properly.

But I was alive, I was absolutely aware of this. The way my heart raced, the panic, mixed with confusion and fear -

It felt like my skull was going to burst open because of all the memories, I suddenly had again.

My name is Ryan Hunter and I was born on the 18th of August 1992, son of Linda and Adam Hunter.

I had a happy childhood.

Growing up in a big house with a large garden in West Seattle, I had everything I needed.

On the 4th of November in 1997, when I was 5 years old, I became the big brother of my sister Chloe. I couldn´t have been more proud.

When she was a baby, I always wanted to held her. I always wanted to watch her when she was sleeping. I always wanted to take care of her. The second I saw her, I knew, I would do anything to keep her save.

I told myself to be the best brother in the whole universe, forever.

Summer 2003, there was only one thing that I wanted for my birthday.

A dog.

I begged so long until my parents finally gave in, and I got a wonderful Golden Retriever puppy on my 12th birthday - and named him Frankie.
Even back then I had a very explicit and good taste for music and collected records like other kids my age collected video games and action figures.

I had a bunch of good friends, even though they just couldn´t understand, why I liked "old" music that much. And what I thought was so special about it.

We built tree houses, survived school together and sometimes played with Chloe.

She was a small, tender, but curious child. Everyone loved her. Especially my father.

One day before my 15th birthday, everything changed forever.

We didn´t go on vacation often. My mother was working in a supermarket two days a week and my father was head of a big IT company in Seattle, being busy all the time. He still managed to spend some time with us, to be honest. Despite of all the things he later did to me, that was always one of his good qualities.

We used to went to this lake, 20 minutes from where we live, quite often. Mostly when it was warm enough to actually swim in the water. It usually were the four of us, my mother, Chloe, me - and Frankie. He loved the water as much as he loved to rest on the shore and let the sun dry his golden fur.

Even though my mother didn´t work much, she worked hard to contribute at least something, I always guessed. Probably she didn´t want to feel too dependent on my father, who earned more than four times than her.

No one could blame my mother for becoming really tired after lunch that day. Usually she solved her crossword puzzles and read books at the lake, but that day, she closed her eyes for only a moment - and fell fast asleep.

I was one of the tallest kids in school, despite being only 15. It never had been a problem to me, and as everyone liked me, no one made fun of me.

But I trusted myself with things I couldn´t do, even though I was so tall.
Taking my sister on our new white boat, our father had just bought us, was one of those things.

My mother told us several times not to row all alone - the lake was deep, it was too dangerous. She told me, my arms would be tired soon and then she would have to swim to us to take us back.

But I didn´t listen to her. I just wanted to row with Chloe in that boat, today.
And that´s what we did.

At first Chloe was a bit afraid, but then she somehow was struck by my enthusiasm and was sitting in the boat, grinning brightly. I pushed it with all my strength away from the waterside into the lake, then climbed into it myself.
"Don´t leave me alone, Ryan.", she said, looking at me with her big blue eyes - my eyes. I just smiled, pretending to think about it, but then laughed. She chuckled softly.

I rowed until my arms ached - of course, when we were in the middle of the large lake.

"Not so fast... you´re scaring me.", Chloe said anxiously, clinging to the side of the boat so tightly, her knuckles whitened.

I just laughed softly, not wanting to admit, that I couldn´t row anymore.

As I didn´t want to scare my sister, I pretended that I was just taking a break, stopped rowing.
Chloe let go of the boat, reached her hand into the water and splashed around in it until it was too boring for her and she pulled her hand back.

I closed my eyes, relaxed for a moment - and froze in place, as the paddles suddenly slipped out of my hands and sank into the deep, almost black water.
"...Ryan?" I opened my eyes, stared at the surface of the water. The paddles already were nowhere to be seen anymore. "Shit.", I murmured.

I looked around. There were other people enjoying the cold water, but they were too far away to help us.
"Ryan!", Chloe repeated, now sounding really terrified.

I raised my hands, trying to calm her down. "Calm down. I´ll get them back."
Although Chloe could swim she´d always been a little afraid of water.

"B-but the lake is deep... You can´t hold your breath that long..."

She was right. I looked at the water surface again, then shrugged. "Do you have a better idea? Do you want to wait, til Mum wakes up? We´ll get trouble, you know that..."
Both of us knew I was the one to get trouble.

She looked to the meadow in the distance, where our mother and Frankie could be spotted. "No...", she murmured.

Before she could add something, I took a deep breath and jumped into the cold water.

That was the last time I saw my sister.

I had my eyes wide open while diving, but I barely could see anything in the green water.

Though my lungs burned like hell, I kept on diving - I didn´t want to give up, wanted to be the hero for my little sister.

When my hand finally felt the bottom of the lake, then touched the rubbery surface of one of the paddles, I grinned triumphantly. There you go, I thought.

I was sure that I would find the other paddle in the next diving attempt.

But as I gasped for breath when diving up, the paddle in my right hand, the boat was empty.

Chloe was gone.

Absolutely confused, I looked around. Where had she gone? "Chloe? Where are you? ... Are you hiding from me?"

After a while I got scared. I dived again, now searching for her.
After 10 Minutes, I panicked. I shouted her name over and over again, until some people noticed me and hurried to help me. Soon I was told to wake my mother and explain her everything - so I swam, as fast as I could towards the shore.

A tear escaped the corner of my eye, as I remembered that day. My eyes fell on my whiteboard at my desk again... Chloe...

But... It wasn´t my fault.

A cerebral hemorrhage killed my sister. It made her fall head-first out of the boat and into the water, where she drowned in the end. When she was found, blue from the cold and her lungs full of water, she already was gone.

My mother thought, it was mostly her fault. But it was no ones fault that the vein in her brain disintegrated.

My father disagreed.

He couldn´t handle her death. And he didn´t want to. Instead he directed all his rage, all his pain on me. He always thought, that it was only my fault, that she died.

He thought that until his own death, seven years later.

"Chloe...", I whispered, as I slowly sat up in my bed. My aching head still between my hands.

That day changed everything. At the beginning, I was too traumatized, too shocked to understand what my father did.

But after six months, I was more and more aware of the fact, that it wasn´t my fault. I spent hours in the internet searching for the phenomenon that killed Chloe - and understood, that it could have happened anywhere. At home. In school. At the waterside of the lake.

But my father didn´t listen to me, when I tried to explain this to him one evening.

My mother worked full-time at the supermarket after Chloe´s death, she tried to somehow forget her loss. My father also worked much more than before.

But this evening, me and him were alone at home. That was the first day he beat me.

He did it on a regular base from now on. Usually not particularly strong, but sometimes I had lilac bruises afterwards.

I didn´t tell anyone, especially not my mother. Plus I somehow had the feeling, that I deserved his punches.

I became more quiet. I lost many friends and ate less.

During the rest of my remaining childhood, my dog was almost my only friend. I took him out as often as I could, but most of the time I buried myself in my room, listening to music, trying to keep on living.

When I didn´t apply to any college, I felt depressed for a short time. I was 17, my father beat me up every week and my mother didn´t see it. Or she didn´t want to see it. And my little sister was dead.

I had no idea, what I was doing with my life. And it became more and more less important to me.

But one day, I saw the job advertisement in the newspaper.

It seemed like fate to me.

I had been to the little music store before, loved the atmosphere, the nice staff and the fair prices. But I never thought, I would work myself in that store.

I called the owner of the store, then was there a week later for a short interview. When I got hired, I couldn´t have been happier.

Of course I didn´t earned very much, and there was no way I would be able to move out and live on my own - which became slowly one of my greatest wish. But at the same time, I didn´t want to leave my mother alone with him. What would happen, if I was gone and he got angry and sad about Chloe again?

I couldn´t do this to my mother.

On the other hand, he barely hit me anymore. I was now taller than him, and even though we never talked about anything, something about my appearance must have changed.

I was 18 years old, when I met Carly.
She was one of the few loyal customers at the store, and I watched her, roaming around, looking for new CD´s and more.

I liked her natural red hair, her pale blue eyes, which always seemed to look in my direction.

A sting as sharp as a knife made me stop breathing - Julie. I stared at the wooden floor of my room. I mean, she had have other boyfriends. Perry included. But...

It felt really strange to remember Carly.

We went out together a few times, had our first kiss and became a couple. She was, apart from Julie of course, my only romantic relationship.

Although I never told her about my sister or my father, although she never quite understood my love for Frank Sinatra - she had her own taste of music, and it wasn´t a bad one - I was happy with her.

At least for a while.

In the end it was her, who broke up, after almost two years. I wasn´t really surprised, but I was sad about it. We didn´t see each other at all - we both didn´t want to stay friends.
During work I met a few guys my age. I played guitar in a small amateur band.

I was, overall, happy with my life.

But then the Zombies came.

At first it were only strange rumors, nothing specific. Some said it was only a commercial for some company. Some thought they were part of a secret group, who tried to take over the world. It just sounded too strange to be true.
No one took it too seriously for a few weeks, expect for a few apocalypse-fanatics, who locked themselves in their bunkers and ran around in the city with signs.

I didn´t believe it myself, until I almost got bitten by a Corpse on my way to work. This was in spring 2013.

Suddenly, the whole world went crazy. I managed it to get home safely, although I didn´t know where I wanted to go, I knew one thing: I wanted to get away from my father.
I just wanted to safe my mother, so I got back to the house. I wanted to get her in my car, an old, but cheap minibus, and just drive away with her. It didn´t matter where, we would survive, I believed. And then I would tell my mother everything about my father.

But I didn´t get that far.

When I closed the door, just in time to safe myself and my dog, who usually came with me to work, I suddenly felt the steel-hard grip of my father on my shoulder. I froze.

The look in his eyes said everything. He had thought he´d finally get rid of me. But he was wrong. And I was wrong too: I wouldn´t get away from him.

We stayed in our house almost six months. Although there were massages in the radio about a nearby community - The Safe Zone - my father refused to go there. My father´s mood got worse. No day passed without him yelling at me. I knew he´d like to hit me again, but for some reason, he never did it.

One day I heard a gunshot from downstairs - when I ran down the stairs and entered the kitchen, my dog was lying on the floor. Dead.

My father murmured something about Frankie being sick.
But I knew, he was lying.

Several times, I tried to convince Mum to get away from him - but it was hopeless. She was too afraid of the Zombies, cried every night, but never talked with me about it.

I pushed my hair out of my face and had to laugh softly about the irony of that. My mother was terrified of the Corpses, and her own son was the first one to heal himself and became a human again.

There was something, pounding in the back of my head, as if I forgot something really important. But I ignored it, was too deep in my memories.

For a while everything was... okay. Even though I could barely resist the urge to run out of this terrible house, away from my father.
But the Corpses were everywhere, it was hopeless.

And I didn´t want to die.

Almost too late, my father finally gave in and we grabbed the most necessary things. Ready to get into the Safe Zone.

It was quiet in the car, I looked out of the window and silently said goodbye to the house, where I had lived for so long. Even though it had brought mainly unpleasant memories since I was 15, it was also the house of my happy childhood.

My mothers voice was soft, almost apologetic, when she asked: "Do you think, they will let us in?"

My father remained silent for a while, of course. He never spoke more, than he had to. At least that we had in common.

I watched him through the reflection in the rear-view, his hard, serious expression and quickly looked away, when he noticed my gaze and glared at me angrily.

"It´s called Safe Zone. Besides, me and... he..." - he didn´t say my name anymore, since that day my sister - "...can get into their militia there."

A protest formed in my throat, but I said nothing and swallowed. I hated rifles. I knew, my father thought, I was too sensitive to shoot Corpses, but that wasn´t true. I simply hated it. That was all.

It was early evening, when my father finally agreed to stop the car for a while, after hours of driving. I didn´t tell him, that I urgently needed a toilet, but my stiff legs really ached and the air in the car was getting stifling.

So no one said anything when we finally turned into a small country way to take a short break.
"Finally.", I couldn´t resist to mumble.

"...What?", my father asked quietly, his eyes gazing into the rear-back-mirror.

I stared at him. My mother looked at me desperately. But I had enough.

"I said: Finally.", I replied calmly.

He continued driving down the small path, which wasn´t really made for a car. His gaze remained on mine. "If you´re not okay with anything I do for this family ..." - It sounded like he was disgusted about being a part of that family - "... the family I took care of for years... Go ahead."

I knew, I shouldn´t say anything. But... I hated him so much.

"I´ve enough of being in this family. I have enough of you telling me what to do. I am 18, and without you, Mum and me already would be in the Safe Zone, living a better life."

My mother sighed softly now, looking anxiously at my father, but said nothing.
My father, as always, stared screaming without warning. "Shut up you..."

"Is that all you can think off? Shut up?" I raised my voice as well, I was so angry, so tired of him being an asshole.

He turned back to me now, his piercing glance seemed to burn into my eyes.

"You little..." He clenched his hand into a fist, struck out and -

My mother´s scream...

I cried. Mum...

Wait a minute.

If today was the day, I was bitten...

I froze. I turned as white as the board, where the picture of Chloe and me hung.

Nothing I had done had happened. My parents were alive. Perry was alive.

Julie was 12 years old and probably just got into the Safe Zone with her father and her mother.

I trembled as I stood up, opened the door, ran downstairs as fast as I could.

The two Corpses suddenly were in front of our car, in the middle of the path.
We hit them, my father turned around, pulled the steering wheel - and everything seemed to happen in slow-mo. The car fell aside, close to a small river, that suddenly appeared in my line of sight.

I lost consciousness.

When I awoke, everything was a blur. I was squeezed between the air back and bags filled with our stuff. It was so cold...
Then I felt someone pulling at me.
I turned my head.

It was my mother. She cried, her head was blood-stained, but she was alive.

My father was dead.

Bent forward, his head a bloody mess, his hair full of shattered glass from the windshield.

I closed my eyes, I knew he was gone, but I felt no grief.
"Ryan... The Zombies..."

I tried to nod weakly, managed to free myself from the belt and slowly climbed out of the car, swaying. I felt terrible, everything hurt.

Suddenly I heard a gunshot, my mother was standing there, trembling, the gun still raised. My gaze fell back to the car, where the rest of the guns were - but I couldn´t think clearly.

I felt my legs giving in and fell on the ground again. "Ryan?" My mother´s voice seemed so distant, as if I already was in another world, far away from her.

I stumbled down the stairs, then stopped in the hallway, stared into the living room, where a person with blonde hair was sitting on a table, back to me. My mother.

I opened my eyes, even though I couldn´t remember closing them. Pain.

Something, was hurting really bad... My foot... It wasn´t hurt in the accident, so why...

Then I felt a terrible burning sensation in my ankle and screamed as loud as I could.

"No!", someone shouted, my mother. Another shot, close to my own head, and someone dropped next to me. No, not someone, something.

A Corpse.

"Ryan, please...", my mother cried, knelt next to me, I gasped softly as I saw her arm. She was bitten.

"M-Mum, what..." I tried to sat up, but struggled. I felt so weak, and my ankle, it felt now like my whole leg was on fire... then, I understood.

I was bitten too.

I groaned disbelievingly covered my aching ankle. I looked at the dead Corpses laying around, then back to my mother. Helplessly I stared at her, unable to put into words what I was feeling. It was son unfair.
"Mum...", my voice trembled. I hesitantly laid my hand on her shoulder, tried to comfort her somehow. I didn´t want to die... I didn´t want to become one of those monsters... I suddenly had a strange taste in my mouth.

"Y-you have to... do it...", she whispered. Her body was shaking as much as mine, the virus was spreading fast.

I didn´t understand, I didn´t want to understand. I shook my head again and again.

But she took her gun, put it in my hand and looked at me with red eyes. "Please... I can´t..."

I shook my head again, closed my eyes. "No...", I stammered. My whole lower part of my body was cold as ice, I barely could feel my legs anymore. But my heart was racing as if it wanted to escape my dying body.

"R-Ryan..." She turned around, her normally sad eyes were full of pain. But she smiled. I stared at her, unable to say anything.

"Do it for me, Ryan." Her body was shaken by seizures, her breath shallow. My own numbness crept now slowly into my chest and arms as well.

"I love you, Mum.", I murmured as I lifted the gun to her head, closed my eyes and shot her in the head.

Her lifeless body collapsed beside me, her eyes, still blue instead of that strange silver, were staring into space.

She looked almost peaceful. Was she with Chloe now, a part of my brain wondered.

I laid down on my back, stared at the sky. I couldn´t do it. I killed my own mother, but I couldn´t lift the gun to my head. Just one movement, one lifting of my hand, and it would be over. But I couldn´t.

The sky was so grey. Too pale.
My breathing stopped. I closed my eyes.

This couldn´t be the end, I wanted to experience more in life, wanted to see more, wanted to do more.

I felt the numbness taking over my chest, my heart made one last beat and then...

I died. And lost everything I knew, just like that.

"Mum..." I couldn´t resist hugging her tightly from behind, burying my head in her shoulder and inhaling her scent. She was there. She was alive.

I was alive.

Nothing of what I remembered up to this day had happened.

I couldn´t believe it. Why had Perry done this? What was I supposed to do know?!

I wouldn´t be a Zombie. But how else could I save humanity?
How else should I be with Julie? She was 12.

But I couldn´t kill my mother again. And my father...

I wasn´t Ms best friend. I hadn´t killed anyone. I hadn´t eaten anybody alive.

Perhaps I had just imagined everything that had happened?! Had it all been a weird dream?

"Ryan? Are you okay?" My mother turned around, stood up and soothingly stroke my back.

I couldn´t tell her, what was going on. I let go of her, completely confused, my heart pounding excitedly. "I..."

But I was interrupted.

"What´s going on here?"

I turned around and stared at him.

My father.

Of course. He was alive, too.

Hey! Please note that I wrote this before reading "The Burning World". I can´t wait till 7th February!

I´m really anxious about this chap. I don´t like it that much, to be honest. Please tell me, what you think about it.