The Survivors Trilogy

BOOK ONE || CHAPTER SEVEN

I don't know how long we've been staring at these people; a minute? Two? An hour? Ten years?

They stare at us wide-eyed. Vicky's grasp on my shoulder tightens, causing my back to arch slightly. Her chest presses against my back, keeping us close together.

A woman, probably the same age as Kyle stares at me with wide, green eyes. Soot, grime, and dirt covers half of her hollow face. Her light brown hair is pulled into a messy ponytail, and strands of her hair hang loose over her eyes. Her mouth has made a perfect O as she continues to stare at us.

A little girl is next to her; she has the same amount of soot and grime all over her face. Her dark blonde hair is tied in two plaits down the sides of her face, but she stares up at me with wide, light brown eyes. Her face is just as hollow as the older woman.

I can see the fear clearly written across both of their faces, but I would have thought that since we have been staring at each other, for what feels like hours, they would have calmed down slightly. I reach my hand out slowly, but they back away quickly.

I guess not.

It's only now that I manage to find my voice. "It—it's... okay," is all I manage to say to them. I don't know who I'm trying to calm down; them or myself.

I see the mother staring at the tip of my not-so-subtle dagger. I retract the blade, and tuck it inside my belt, making sure that the blade is not within eyeshot of the new survivors.

"It's okay," I repeat, holding my hand out to them. "We won't hurt you." My voice stays light and soft, but inside my head is screaming. We just found new survivors! Something we have all been looking for, for years!

I calm my own voice inside my head and inhale through my nose—smelling the rotten smell of corpses—and out of my mouth.

The duo stare at my outstretched hand, then back up at my eyes. I nod my head slowly.

The older woman presses her calloused hand into mine slowly. Her hand feels extremely dry, almost like holding a roll of sandpaper.

I pull her slowly into the light. She uses her hand to block the blinding glare from her eyes, and when she's fully out, her eyes squint, but her hand goes back to her side.

If the basement was unlocked, then why didn't they leave? Maybe they were scared to, my mind marvels. Maybe they thought they were alone, so that's why they didn't try and find survivors.

"What's your name?" I ask softly, trying to keep my voice the same pitch.

The woman doesn't answer my question, instead, she looks at the younger survivor, and grabs her hand, slowly pulling her behind her back.

"Mine's Xander. This is Vicky," I say. "What's yours?"

She opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out. She coughs, covering her mouth with her hand. Dust flies out. "M-my n-n-name i-is... Sera," the woman stutters.

"Sera, don't be afraid, we are just like you. We too are survivors," I say with a smile.

Sera smiles and looks down at the little girl standing next to her. "This... this is my daughter, Cassia."

I smile at Sera and kneel down to Cassia's height. "Hi, Cassia. My name's Xander." Her wide brown eyes search around my face, resting on my eyes. "How old are you?"

"Umm...," Cassia starts, playing with her fingers. "I'm... ten."

"Ten? Wow! You're almost an adult," I say with a big smile on my face.

Cassia laughs lightly. At least they aren't scared of us any more, I think.

Cassia suddenly reaches forward, pressing her cold, small hands against my cheeks. I smile. "Are you... real?" she all but whispers, the sound passing through dry lips.