oOo
Life was a sadistic asshole, or the Universe, or God, or the wizard behind the curtain for all she knew. Just whoever or whatever was pulling the strings responsible for the current events was a major sadistic fucker, getting off to their pain.
After two weeks of relative bliss, reality had bitch slapped Diana across the face; a rude wake-up call, the sting multiplied by the thousands, spreading through every inch of sensitive skin until her whole body felt both numb and sore, a cold sweat breaking from her pores.
Time slowed down and reeled forward simultaneously.
She swayed in place, disoriented and dizzied by the notions that spun around in her addled brain.
This was no one-time thing, no freak accident nor a fluke in the Universe.
An indescribable churn in her stomach made her hazily wonder if she was going to throw up as well. Her vision focused and she caught her reflection in the dusty window of the car she leaning against.
From the base of her neck to under her chin was a fine spray of blood, drying quickly in the hot air, painting her skin with red polka dots.
Red was a pretty color on her, Diana thought dreamily.
The gears in her mind jarred back to motion, clicking again, slowly, dent by dent, until she unfroze from her vegetable state of mind and truly noticed her surroundings. The smell of sweat, blood, burned rubber and smoke burned her nose.
As the buzzing in her ears retreated, Diana was met by a new voice, sawing through her in its grating slur, immediately convoking a feeling of annoyance from deep inside her that made her want to roll her eyes to the back of her skull.
Her eyes jumped to the figure of a man as he approached her, appearing from behind the car she was leaning on, and he bent down to retreat the bolt impaled on the head of the zombie at her feet, his blue eyes attentive on her. He wiped it on the leg of his pants and reloaded the crossbow in his hold.
Diana's heart sunk into her chest and her eyes widened at the vanquished threat. Her eyes traveled to every corpse, the sight of the gore tickling the back of her throat, before they landed on the one she had killed herself, sprawled with its hand reaching out to her, goop widening in a radius around its unrecognizable features.
The act of the kill itself rammed into the front of her mind like a freight train and suddenly red was no longer pretty on her.
Her bow clattered to the ground, nearly landing in the filth, as she desperately rubbed her hands on her speckled skin, scratching and peeling off chips of dried gunk, jaw clenched until the joints hurt. Bile rose to her throat, threatening to propel her lunch out of her mouth, but she swallowed hard, ignoring the bitter taste and focused instead on the newcomers.
The man in front of her observed her ministrations with an attentive nonchalance, mouth slightly curled in disgust, short hair slickened to his forehead with sweat on one side while wild on the other. Another man walked up from behind him to stand on his right, a rifle in his hands; his smile was patronizing and Diana dared to assume the voice from before had been his.
Diana met both their eyes before slowly bending at the knee to pick up her bow and backpack, shouldering both. 'Crossbow' followed her movements with his weapon, which made Sam protest from the back, spouting profanities in half-whispers.
Diana raised her hands in a show of good will.
She was not the enemy.
They were not the enemy.
Everyone should just chill.
"Thanks," she said, quite calmly, still somewhat muddle-minded.
She felt like she was on the verge of something unknown like a flip was about to switch at any moment and turn her inside out, but for the time being she felt oddly placid and like she was in a dream, floating through an imagined plot.
'Crossbow' squinted at her and gave a curt nod, but it was 'Rifle' that responded, "Your words are all good an' sweet, but I think me an' my brother would feel your gratitude better if you were willing to uh- part with some o' the items in your possession." He gestured around with his rifle in a loose hold. "But believe me, sweet cheeks, it don't gotta be willing," he said with a smiling coldness and gripped his weapon tighter, the gesture complementing the spoken threat.
"The fuck is he saying? What does the filho da puta want?" Sam spat, glaring at the man's obvious display of hostility. He wanted nothing more than to stride up to be the one standing toe to toe with the two strangers instead of Diana, but he knew that any sudden move on his part would have the men on alert and he wanted them to keep those weapons lowered as long as possible, even if it meant he had to appear to cower at the back.
Caralho, it really set his blood on fire!
Before either Felix or Alice had a chance to translate for him, Diana lied, "It's nothing."
She didn't quite feel like herself at the moment. To be honest, she didn't even feel real, more like a concept of a person in the concept of a world. That may be the reason why she so boldly turned to 'Rifle' and shot question after question, like a reporter in face of the scoop of the century.
He interrupted her with an amused and condescending chuckle.
"Wo- slow down, sweet cheeks. Didn't get the memo, sista? The whole world's gone to hell and we're aaaall invited." He continued laughing, but the sound became background noise to Diana's ears.
Knowledge is power, that was what Diana had always believed, a sort of motto for her as she did her best to learn as much as she could. But this knowledge left her unconditionally powerless. It carved out a piece of her and left her with an emptiness in her chest.
For a second she fought against it, thought herself foolish and naïve for believing so easily. But, she thought, what other explanation was there for what they'd seen until now? There was no evidence to contradict his words.
They'd been a fact. A cold, hard fact.
And with that, she thought of other facts that maliciously twisted the knife already plunged in her heart.
They would never go back home. She would never again set eyes on Portuguese shores, its rolling waves crashing against beaches of fine-grained sand. Nor would she visit her grandparents' home in the Vila on the mountain, the light of the full moon and constellations illuminating the navy-blue summer skies, undisturbed by light pollution. All those places that had raised her, all those places filled with precious memories would be lost to them forever.
No more lighting a candle on Avô's grave, no more Christmas family reunions, where everyone came to bury past spites and try to start anew.
With all that came a heart-pounding sadness that ripped her open from the inside. Diana felt homesick like never before. She could no longer discern shapes and forms by the time she shut her eyes close, fat tears warm on her cheeks, which she was quick to wipe away, defiant against her sentimentality. She screwed her mouth to avoid crying, aware of the eyes on her.
"Mija, you alright?" that was Irene's concerned voice as she hugged Diana to her side.
"Mmhm," she hummed with a nod, weak and unconvincing, and tried to smile, but it wavered and felt awkward, so she stopped. She sniffed and cleaned her eyes again just to avoid her mother's sincere dark ones.
"Ain't this sweet and mushy and just heartbreaking, really!"
Diana looked over her shoulder at her family.
Sam kept glancing at his daughter and the two strangers. He was seething in his spot, form shaking in rage and muscles tense beyond belief in reaction to what had transpired. Other than that, he seemed to be holding it together, probably because he had no idea what was being said the whole time, only that it had upset them.
Felix's loud sniffles and blotchy red face were evidence that he had been crying. The tall teen stood slightly hunched, hand grasping the back of his dad's shirt in an uncharacteristic childish manner that reminded that despite his mature body and stature, the boy had only recently turned fifteen.
Alice's eyes were hard, her glare vicious and the tight line of her mouth set in stone. From her exuded an anxious and angry energy, almost palpable in the air around the girl.
Irene's motherly instinct had pushed her own worries aside to allow her to give comfort to her children. She could imagine how absolutely pissed she would be at the world for its injustices as she mourned the demise of a normal future for her children, one she and her husband had worked so hard to provide for them.
Diana faced forward. Now, with the actuality of the real world weighing her down - and having been seen at a low point -, she didn't feel quite so bold anymore, and all the dopey audacity that had charged her earlier was replaced with a pathetic meekness that didn't feel quite like her as well.
When her words came tripping out her mouth in a nervous jumble, Irene gently grabbed her hand in encouragement, and even without looking at the woman, Diana felt empowered by the reassuring touch.
She took the ever-present anguish and hopelessness hovering above her like a dark cloud and pushed it into the back of her mind, locking it behind ramshackle gates. There was no time for mourning now.
Repressing was not the best for a healthy mental state, she knew it, but hers had already gone past that point for a long, and with her share of experience with holding in one's worries for years, she hoped adding another one to the pile wouldn't bring it tumbling down.
Besides, she wasn't the only one that had to hold herself in check at the moment.
Diana took a deep breath and steeled herself. Her insides were still trembling, but she fought to control herself. She grabbed onto the hem of her shirt to stop the urge to fidget with her fingers.
"We're not gonna hand over our stuff just like that," she affirmed, her jaw locking with nerves, clipping her words. Her mind started reeling, thinking up a counterargument, a strong verbal defense, even a win-win proposal. She couldn't think under the pressure and the pause was just plain awkward.
Her eyes combed the surroundings, landing on the skyline of Atlanta, smoke billowing into the sky at random places. Next in her sights were the vehicles all around, stuck in never-ending traffic and completely useless.
These men, these strangers, where they traveling on foot? They had to have some mean of transportation, probably not far away if they'd been close enough to hear the commotion.
With an idea solidifying in her mind, Diana held herself a bit higher to give the impression of confidence she didn't possess at the moment. She hated this, she absolutely hated confrontation, with people other than her family she tended to give in too easily, never wanting to rile things up in her never-ending quest to be liked by everyone. This couldn't be one of those times.
She glanced between the two men and found 'Crossbow' and his impartial stare to be less unnerving than the almost cruel leer of 'Rifle'. So she focused on him and spoke to him.
"But," she almost choked on her saliva and swallowed, "if you can provide us with safe transport to the city, we may consider splitting it evenly, according to the number of people in each party and everyone's particular needs."
Cold sweat broke out Diana's skin, her heartbeat audible inside her chest. She couldn't believe the bullshit she'd pulled out of her ass, nor the diplomatic tone of authority she'd said them in. She felt like a character in a law tv-show, negotiating terms of a deal.
She glanced at both men, feeling her heart flutter nervously and her palms begin to moisten.
She had no other offer or idea other than that, that had been her big play. She had expected a more flawed execution, with stuttering and generally fucking up, but had been pleasantly surprised on that aspect. Even so, her anxiety didn't let up, feeding her negativity and thoughts of failure.
A bead of sweat rolled down the back of her neck to disappear into the collar of her top. The rolled up sleeves of her button up made the shirt feel restricting and clingy and she resisted the need to rip it off her. The pack on her back was heavier than ever, the straps digging deeper into her shoulders, weighing her down with each tension-filled second that passed. The bow was oddly silent, and it was worrying.
She really needed this to work. If they were going to have to give these men any of their supplies, at least she wanted to make sure they were left with things that they needed.
Her dad's medication, for one.
As a type 2 diabetic, Sam didn't need insulin injections, but he had to swallow pills daily to keep the blood glucose levels regulated. Those were an absolute must. His health would deteriorate measurably without them, and if left untreated, his condition would lead to a diabetic coma which would mean his demise.
Diana suppressed a shudder.
No, they couldn't lose those to the strangers.
Food could be easily scavenged, if one knew where to look, while meds were almost always the first things to disappear from the shelves. From the most common vitamin preparations to the strongest antibiotics and analgesics. In every movie she'd ever seen, people took no precautions when it came to pharmaceuticals; if it's in a pharmacy, it's worth taking.
The two brothers finished their conversation conveyed only through looks and micro facial expressions, and this time it was 'Crossbow' who spoke.
His voice was low and grave and pleasant to her ears, unlike his brother's grating slurred speech, but it was the words, rather than the voice, that sent a chill down Diana's spine.
"Man, the hell have you been drinkin'? The city's dead," he almost spat out the last word.
Diana's heart fell into the pit of her stomach.
What did he mean?
She muttered that thought out loud.
'Crossbow' frowned. His brother laughed at her ignorance, but she did her best to ignore him and concentrated on acquiring the information she needed.
"What do you mean 'dead'?" she repeated, voice coming out surer, "What about shelters or something, or a- a quarantena, isn't that what happens in these situations? There are safe zones."
'Crossbow' laughed a single disbelieving chuckle. "Situations like these? There ain't never been a situation like this, and sure as hell ain't nobody was prepared for this shitstorm to break out." He gestured around, sounding irate. "The military spread some bullcrap 'bout shelters in the city, but hell knows that shit blew up all over their cammo greens."
He stared her right in the eyes as he delivered the end to his rant. "So, no, we ain't 'providin' safe transport' to nobody." He narrowed his eyes at her. In less than a second, he glanced at every member of the Lobo family, and then some sort of resolve solidified and showed briefly on his face. "Let's get the hell outta here, Merle, this ain't worth the effort."
And they left the way they came.
Diana watched them go, disheartened that her family was now left with no destination and no way to know if her Godmother and her family were still out there or if they had fallen victim to the apocalyptic pandemic.
Diana made that another thing to worry about in the future, caging it away and already feeling the migraine of the century coming on.
However cold and detached it sounded, Diana felt the major goal right now was to find safe shelter – well, as safe as safe could get – and transport – on foot was no way to make it in this new world, she could bet on it. Only after they got settled down could they think of their losses and half-victories.
There was also the subject of food and drink. It would be no easy task to feed three adults and two growing teens, not on the resources they had.
The two brothers had given up way too easily after having made those threats and even going through the trouble of helping them instead of letting them get killed and looting their corpses. That lack of desperation let her think that maybe they already had their own source or stash and had only been looking to score some extra with them.
The gears in her mind rotated faster. Quick, think of something, anything. She couldn't just let that opportunity to strike a deal in their favor to slip through their fingers so easily.
Their personalities appeared to be incompatible thus far. They didn't have enough supplies, only had basic survival skills, only that day had they found out about the freaking apocalypse! Diana could only think of cons, no pros.
"Quick, tell me something they need we can offer them!" She asked all four, wringing her hands and cracking the knuckles of her thumbs in a nervous tick.
Sam, who had been brought up to par on the situation via translation from his teen children, looked at his oldest daughter like she'd grown a second head. "You got little fucking monkeys inside your head or what? We want fuck nothing to do with those motherfuckers." He pointed in the direction they'd left in, which was a reminder to Diana that soon they would be gone and so would their transport.
Diana bounced on her feet and groaned softly, now she just had share her realizations with the rest of her family and hope they saw eye to eye on her plan. She wasn't optimistic. "They probably, very likely have a car, we don't. They gave up real easy on our things, which, for me, equals they don't really need them, which means if we wanna catch a ride with them, we gotta have something else to offer," Diana ranted and gestured with her hand to wind forward. "Komm jetzt, people, give me something, they gonna be gone soon if we don't hurry."
Sam and Irene shared an incredulous look. Sam pointed at her in disbelief and Irene shook her head while rubbing her forehead.
"Safety in numbers!" Felix spewed out, and flinched and stepped away from his father at the look he was receiving. "Just sayin'."
Diana snapped her fingers at him. "Perfect, let's go!" She was anchored in place by Sam's hand on her upper arm, his grip like a vice.
"D'you take a fucking hit to the head, we just got rid of them!"
"Yeah, man, and now we're going back." Diana pulled out her arm from his grasp and stepped over the zombie 'Crossbow' had wiped out with a shudder.
Sam plowed through, grabbed her by the backpack and turned her around with the momentum. His glare would make a grown man piss in his pants, but Diana was used to it, and her driven stubbornness was not about to let her cower in face of it.
"They could be dangerous!" he yelled in her face while grabbing her by the shoulders, his northern accent rolling off his tongue. "Correction, they are fucking dangerous!"
Diana nodded, she was well aware of that fact. "Yeah, but pai, we're five and they're only two. We got that on our side."
"They have weapons!"
"So do we," Diana defended.
"Real weapons, not a toy and a fucking whatever-that-thing-is."
"They could have a bigger group," Irene supplied from her husband's side. "Of thugs and murderers, we don't know. They looked like the type. We don't wanna risk that."
Diana didn't resent their worry and scolding. It was rather reckless, what she had in mind. But if it went well, it was their best shot. It was a big leap, but that was the way things were sometimes.
Her family shouldn't have to go through this alone. And the men had been skilled, they could get to be powerful assets, good additions to their team. Diana had watched a lot of zombie movies in her time, and one thing they always made clear, is that sometimes you need a couple of trigger-happy rednecks by your side. If not for their skills, then as cannon fodder.
Something in the back of Diana's mind rang, warning her of how fast she was going with everything, feeling guilty for moving on too quickly. But what other choice was there? They couldn't stagnate and let themselves get killed. The world had been moving on without them for two weeks, it was time they caught up. And that meant acting now and feeling later.
Diana laid a hand on one of her dad's and looked him in the eye. "I can't promise it won't be dangerous, pai, because like, have you looked around you? All I'm asking is for you to take a leap of faith. Please, just trust me. I mean, they helped us, so they can't be all that bad, right?"
"You forget the filhos da puta threatened us and wanted to take every-fucking-thing from us?" Sam reminded with a deep set scowl, hazel-green eyes gleaming with fire.
"No, I'm not forgetting, but- but they didn't follow through with it," Diana reasoned, trying her best to tame the heat in her father's expression with soft words, her best negotiation tool with him. "Hell, they could've just let us be killed and take our things anyway, but they didn't!"
"We could get ourselves killed, we don't know those people. Santo Cielo, for all we know, they could be waiting around the next car to jump us," Irene said, "we could go falling right into a trap."
Her mom's words only served to fan the flames fueling her dad's conviction, and Diana could see herself fighting a losing battle if she didn't come up with better arguments.
Her stomach was hurting with the anxiety of the situation, and her headache only worsened. And she felt like crying. She swallowed the painful lump in her throat and raised her watery eyes to meet her father's gaze. She felt his grip slacken as his expression softened slightly.
"We coul-" she cleared her throat, "we could still get ourselves killed if we stay here. Who knows how many zombies are around here or how long it'll take 'til they're on us. We only have whatever food we have and our feet to guide us. What happens when we get tired? And when we run out of food? What about then?" Diana looked at her parents, brown eyes wide and pleading. "They're the only other humans we've seen 'til now, could be the only ones we see in a long time. Anda lá. Just, give them the benefit of the doubt. They're our best shot at surviving right now."
"You don't know that, mija," Irene pitched in, somewhat subdued. "I just- I got a flea behind my ear about them."
"And we don't know otherwise. All I know is that I feel we have a shot if we stick with them. I mean, they survived this far."
"And so have we, goddamn it," Sam roared back and lifted his hands in exasperation.
Diana raised her eyebrows at him. "We didn't even know anything was happening! We were running on pure luck and the bliss of ignorance. But that's over now, you know I don't like strangers, nor socializing with them, but we need allies. Good people-"
Irene scoffed. "Oye mija, they didn't seem like very good people to me."
"Circumstances, mami. Imagine the impression we made on them. First impressions are almost always bullshit." Diana turned to her dad and gestured at him. "Everyone always assumes the worst about you, pai, because of your-" she mimicked his glare. "-Doesn't mean it's true!"
Sam narrowed his light eyes. "I don't go around waving guns at people's faces tryna rob them."
"And they told us the truth. They didn't have to do that. They didn't have to go that far."
"Yeah, they're your average Saints," Alice interrupted. "Look, don't we get a say in this or are we just Christmas decorations? What's this dictatorship?" she complained, pointing at herself and Felix.
Convinced she had found allies in her quest, Diana gestured for her sister to go ahead.
"In all honesty, this is stupid. You're too trusting and those guys just stank of inbreeding and blatant racism."
"Even your sister sees it! Why the fuck can't you, Diana?"
Diana felt betrayed, she was starting to enter a deep void of despair at their stubbornness. They were wasting enough time as it was discussing it. Diana's gut told her it was the right play, and her gut had never wronged her before. I mean, she misjudged small things all the time, but not the big decisions. It was like she had a compass inside her, and right now the needle was pointing 'get the fuck going, girl'.
There was a sense of foreboding hanging in the air, urging her to make the right decision, and she knew they had to take the plunge, had to take the leap of faith and trust the strangers that had managed to simultaneously save and terrorize them. It was now or never. "Pai, please, listen to me! Just. Trust. Me."
"Sam," Irene interrupted before Sam could shoot her down once more, and pulled him down by the arm to whisper in his good ear.
Diana strained her ears but didn't pick up on anything. She cracked her knuckles again, dissatisfied when they didn't pop and waited impatiently. She watched her father's expression change drastically with every whispered word.
He jerked back when Irene was done and raised his eyebrows at her. "Caralho, you too!?"
Irene stared at him, a look that seemed to say 'sadly, you know I'm right' on her face, and Sam furrowed his brow and rubbed the bridge of his nose with a heavy, defeated sigh.
"Foda-se! Fuck this motherfucking damned world to hell and back," he muttered, dragging his hand over his mouth, and looked back up to his oldest daughter, his eyes flickering to her shoulder, and there, a hiccup in his resolve, "You stubborn girl, I got water up to my fucking beard with you, I fucking swear, I oughta beat your ass for thinking of this." Next, he pointed to his wife. "And you! I'm not even gonna say anything." All bark and no bite. "You're crazy, both of you."
Irene winked in conspiracy at Diana's inquiring frown, which only confused her even more. Her mom had been steadfast against her plan, and just like that, like the flip of a switch, stood with her. What was going on there?
Diana was beyond curious as to why and what she could have possibly said to Sam to convince so easily after her struggle, but she didn't let it win over, instead she thanked them a thousand times and tried to swallow the anxiety that repeated premonitions of failure and regret into her mind like a broken record.
Her compass pointed in one direction and the rest of her in another.
Finally leaving the massacre behind, they trekked after the long gone brothers, hoping to not stray from their trail.
Sam took the lead, but this time they amassed together instead of filing up. To Diana, he said, "At the slightest, tiniest fucking sign of trouble, I will end them and then you, you get that?"
Diana gulped dryly and nodded at the fake threat. Well, fake the part regarding her. The other part, however, she was sure he would go through with.
Come Hell or high water, Samuel Ravi Lobo would always do everything in his power and beyond to protect his family, and Diana hoped for the two men's sake that they didn't try anything.
i love diana, but her judgement's kinda broken
please leave a comment. tell me your thoughts, i'd really appreciate it
