Radiation Point

Forty

The sun shone so bright through the tops of the trees, I could feel my nose tingling with the hints of a coming sneeze. My eyes burned from crying--made worst by the brightness around me. Trudging behind my sister, I kept walking, burning eyes and tears blurring my vision.
My parents were dead. Both of them--dead.
Our camp was destroyed--overrun by contaminated. And I was bit. Bit! Condemned to turn into what? Another one of those lifeless husks. I couldn't--wouldn't let that happen. I'd rather die.
My arm stung with pang. I could feel a crust hardening from where I had been bit. Though the bite was further up my arm, I knew it was still somewhere that would hurt to move. Every step I took sent another jarring pain down my spine.
"I can't do this," I said, my voice sounding hoarse. "You have to leave me."
Mia turned around, her blue eyes rimmed in red. Her pale body racked with silent tears, but she didn't speak. Instead, she hurried back to my side and wrapped her arms tightly around my body. I could feel her shaking from tears I knew I was shedding, too.
How could this happen? How could we be so alone?
"No."
Mia's voice was muffled against my chest. Her tangled blonde hair was protruding in every direction, a birds nest of golden straw.
I swallowed back more tears.
"Please, Mia. Go."
But her grip on my chest didn't lessen. She didn't speak again. Mia simply clung to me until I felt I couldn't stand anymore. The weight of her clinging body, the pain, and the sheer exhaustion tugging me down to the forest floor. I fell of my knees with a thud. This was it. It was over for me and Mia.
"Nessa, don't leave me," Mia said, kneeling over me.
The sun was too bright. It was hard to open my eyes to look at her, so I peered up at her through squinted eyes. My sister looked like an angel with glowing blonde hair and golden, pale skin. When did she get so pretty? So vibrant? So alive?
"You stay with me, you hear?"
Her voice sounded different somehow. More grown up. More southern? Confusion muddled my mind as I squinted up at Mia. Something was wrong. This wasn't right. Her hair had gone from golden blonde to short and brown. Her face seemed to round out before me, lines of worry creasing into wrinkles.
Mia, what's wrong with you? What's wrong?
"Is she gonna wake up? I can't lose them both. Not like this."
Lose them both?
"We need to keep her warm. She's going into shock. Losing her sister may have been too much for her," a deep voice said from somewhere above me.
Shock? Losing my sister?
The words seemed foreign and yet, crushing. My lungs felt tight in my chest like every breath would make them explode. Burning pain seared through me with every breath.
It couldn't be true. Mia couldn't be gone, too.
Instead, I closed my eyes and let myself drift back to the forest and back to my sister's arms. Back to Mia's embrace in the woods as we sat in a tangled heap and cried.

"No, Nessa," Mia said, with a trembling voice. "I need you. I do."
I looked down at her big blue eyes and her shaking lips. She was so fragile. So young. She couldn't survive out in the woods without me. And yet, would I even make it myself? My arm hurt so bad. And if my parents were right, I could turn into a contaminated and kill Mia myself.
No. No. Be strong. For Mom. For Dad. For Mia.
"You need to help me clean this," I said, slowly untangling myself from Mia. "I can't go much further until we take care of this."
I tried to use my strictest voice, trying to smother my sadness with my plan. We had to survive. We could mourn Mom and Dad later. But we had to survive. Mia had to survive. I already had a death sentence, but not Mia. No, this bright ball of energy had to go on. She had to.
"Help me to a stream," I said, leaning on Mia. "And I need something to put on this to stop the throbbing."
"Part of my shirt?" she asked. Mia sounded more normal talking about taking care of me. It was like caring for people was in her blood. She could survive as long as she kept caring for people.
"I don't care," I said, grinding my teeth against the pain. "Every step I take makes this hurt. I just need something--anything--to stop it."
"Got it," she said. She sounded determined. Her face was still red from crying, but she stopped shaking as she led my through the forest, her shoulder supporting me and lessening the pain from each step.
"What if I can't find any water?" Mia asked finally. We had walked for what seemed like forever, crunching on twigs and dirt beneath us. I couldn't go much farther without resting. I could feel it. Though the bite was in my arm, the pain was shooting up my back. Throbbing; burning.
I scanned the forest, looking for any break in the trees. Why didn't the radiation affect the trees at all? I wondered bitterly, wishing they were thinner so I could get an idea of where we were. It seemed like the forest was never ending.
"We'll look in the morning. I need to rest," I said finally, desperation taking hold again. How could I survive if I couldn't even find water for me and Mia? If the contamination didn't take us, dehydration would.
Mia helped me down to the base of a tree, where I leaned up against the familiar bark. We had a large oak tree in our backyard before the bombing. I would sit outside and read in its shade all summer long. How I wished it were that tree I was laying against.
Closing my eyes, I pretended I were home. Home against that tree. Home with Mom and Dad.
A splash of cold sent my eyes fluttering open. I looked at confusion at liquid on my arm. Using a finger, I poked the drop. It was thick like syrup, with an amber color. Looking up, high in the branches of the tree hung a large amber mound. Another bead of liquid was hanging by a thread ready to drop.
Maybe it was delirium setting in, but I knew what I had to do.
Rolling up the sleeve of my shirt, cringing as I did, I revealed my wound to the night air.
It was an angry shade of purple, puckered up with teeth marks. Blood coated my arm at each teeth mark. My entire arm was swollen around the wound--from the upper part of my arm to my shoulder. The wound looked terrible. Looking back up at the dangling syrup I waited. It had to fall sometime and something deep in my soul told me I needed it. I needed that sap to survive.
It fell with a flash, and I held out my hand, cupping it as if to catch rain. The syrup molded against my hand, dripping through my fingers slowly. Without hesitation, I pushed the sap over the wound. It was like ice, numbing the wound; numbing the pain. I could feel the sap working, going deeper into the opening on my arm. The longer it sat, the less my wound throbbed and the more I could breathe. With a final look at the angry marks on my arm, I closed my eyes and let myself drift off into a restless sleep.
Maybe, just maybe, Mia and I would survive the night after all.