Foxglove

Warning: moderate horror/gore

Summary: A woman tries to protect a young girl during an evacuation.

...

“You don’t have to be afraid. I’m here to help you.”

Mirian swallowed. A young girl clutched a teddy bear and stood behind a glass door. Mirian could break the glass and pull her out, but she didn’t want to scare her. She tugged the door pull and held her breath as it refused to budge.

Mirian peered inside. Shattered glass and food packages littered the floor. Empty bags of chips and sandwich wrappers surrounded the kid, along with a key she almost missed. She cursed herself for preparing to lie. “Are you waiting for your parents? Did they tell you to stay here?” she asked.

The kid nodded.

“I know where they’re at.”

The kid shifted, her expression softening. She stepped closer to the door.

“They’re, uh, they’re safe,” Mirian said. “I led them to safety, and they told me where to find you. If you just use that thingy-”

The kid picked up the key.

“-Yes! That! Just put it in and turn it, and I can take you to them.”

The kid put the key toward the door and paused. She held the teddy bear tighter, and Mirian frowned.

Mirian glanced back, biting her lip. They didn’t have time. One more minute, and they might be dead. She pressed her hand to the glass and leaned forward, kneeling down. “I want to keep you safe. I promise. Please...just come out...”

Mirian closed her eyes and sighed. She tried, and she fa—

Click!

Her head snapped up. The door slowly opened, and the kid walked out. She flinched when Mirian stepped closer.

“Don’t be afraid,” Mirian said. “It’s just me. I won’t hurt you. What’s your name?”

The kid thinned her lips before answering softly. “Lilly.”

“You have a beautiful name, Lilly.”

She extended her arm, gesturing for Lilly to take it. Lilly glanced, toying with the bear in her hand. She tentatively put her hand in Mirian’s, and Mirian smiled. She led them to her car parked across the street.

When they got inside, she buckled Lilly in the passenger side and sat in the driver’s seat.

The walkie-talkie at her side crackled, and static burst through. She quickly brought the device to her ear, relief washing over her for the first time that day. “Co...do...hea...comm...hurr...now!”

“Hello,” Mirian said, clicking a button. “Can anybody hear me? Hello?”

The radio went silent. Mirian grumbled, clenching the device.

More static broke through.

“Commander Renard, do you hear me? I repeat, Commander Renard, do you hear me?”

“Affirmative,” Mirian said. “Report your position.”

The officer on the other end sighed, and Mirian’s mouth twitched slightly. She, too, released a breath, though it went unnoticed.

“We’ve cleared the other seven districts. We’re just waiting for your team.”

“We’re almost done,” Mirian said. “But I found one more person. I...I didn’t want to leave her.” She looked at the child. “We’re on our way to base four.”

The car ride was silent. Now and then, Mirian glanced at Lilly. Her hands tensed around the steering wheel, and she occasionally stiffened. They’d yet to cross any infected, but still, she found herself peering at the road or looking at the trees.

Her mind often drifted back to one question—why had Lilly been left alone in a locked store?

Her thumb tapped against the leather steering wheel. “So, uh, do you want to talk about what happened?”

Lilly did not speak.

Mirian continued driving, the sound of the car engine filling the space. When she glanced at Lilly, the kid was as stiff as a board, and dark circles were under her eyes. Mirian couldn't imagine what Lily must have endured.

“Your parents, they didn’t go over the details...” Mirian said.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Lilly’s hand twitch.

“Left,” the child said.

“Huh?”

“They left.”

Mirian nodded. She didn’t press for more answers.

When she turned a corner, she drove into another city and stopped for gas. As she filled her car, she scanned the area. A plastic bag tumbled across the street, and she rubbed her fingertips.

It was silent when she drove again. The car engine hummed, Lilly sat still, and Mirian occasionally tapped her thumb, glancing at the kid. She drove for a long time until there were only trees around them, and the long road looked as if it never ended.

“Would you like to tell me what happened?” Mirian asked. “You might feel better if you spoke about it.”

For the first time, Lilly made a sound. It was no more than a sigh, but it was something. Her hands were rigid in her lap, and she stared at the window. “Hungry.”

Mirian's brows creased. The way Lilly said the word 'hungry' was strange.

“Hungry? Do you want some food?”

Lilly did not speak for the rest of the ride.

When they arrived at the base, Mirian held Lilly’s hand. She squeezed the small hand that trembled slightly in her own. “My parents,” Lilly said. Mirian nodded. “You’ll see them soon.”

She expected a smile or a sign that Lilly was happy, but the kid flinched instead.

They stepped into a room the size of a football stadium. Some people stood alone. Others sat in groups. Worried people spoke to officers whenever they caught one, but there were only a few officers present. There were many tables with empty or nearly empty boxes that were once full of food and blankets before they were handed out.

Mirian looked at Lilly. “Maybe we can find someone your age, and you can play together.”

Lilly said nothing. She only tensed as they walked further in the arena.

Mirian’s brows furrowed.

“Are you alright? I’m here if you—”

“—I’m fine,” Lilly said.

Her hands flew to her ears, and she winced as if she was in pain. “I...I...”

Mirian flinched when Lilly dropped to her knees. Lilly writhed, and an ugly sound crawled out of her. Her flesh turned a strange colour, and her neck contorted in a loud cracking sound.

Mirian swiftly turned her head, searching for more officers. There were none.

“Help,” Lilly cried. “P-please. H-help m—”

A shrill howl broke her sentence as her body snapped back like she’d been possessed.

Mirian ran. A caterwaul pierced the air, bouncing off the large walls, slashing her ears, and she cupped the sides of her face.

Her body bashed against a closed door, and she winced. From afar, she saw the kid. Lilly’s teeth gashed a man’s arm and drew blood. His skin turned a different shade, and his flesh peeled off like it was burning. It didn’t take long for the crowd to panic when bodies turned green, people shrieked, and their limbs snapped.

The elderly were the first to stumble. Panicked feet toppled over them, crushing them to the gravel. Parents cried out for their lost children, and the children cried—if they were still alive. It smelled like blood and decaying flesh.

Mirian’s breath caught in her throat as she opened the door. She’d led Lilly here. This was her sin.

All of the people were tumbling on top of each other, transforming, and she’d led them all here.

Her hand did not tremble when it settled on the door. She closed it, pressing numbers into the keypad.

Just then, a human hand slammed against the small circle of glass, blood smearing the window. It was a youth of no more than 20 years old. She cried, mouthing the words ‘help me’ along with something else, but Mirian could not hear or understand her.

Mirian grabbed the radio at her side and clicked a button. “Commander Renard speaking. Do you hear me?”

She’d gathered the last remnant of people; they would all die, and the mission would be complete.