Chapter Four—Kyra
“Wakey, wakey!” Tammy sings as she ruffles my hair. “Time to spill the beans!”
“What time is it?” I groan.
“9:22 in the morning, Ms. Lazy.”
I sit up quickly and push my hair back. “Why didn’t anyone wake me?”
“Because your lover told us to let you sleep in. He said you deserved a break,” she tells me.
“Tamsyn, he’s not my lover.”
“Yet!” she falls into giggles.
“Ever. He said I remind him of Faith and—”
“See! So he does looooooove you!”
“Let me finish.” I hold up a hand to silence her. “He said that I remind him of Faith and his little sister.”
“Wait, what? That makes no sense. He doesn’t have a little sister. He only has brothers,” she says as if she knows Danny better than he knows himself. I crawl out of my sleeping bag and start to get dressed.
“They were just boys after his sister died.”
“Oh. So you remind him of his possibly dead girlfriend and of his for sure dead sister. Well, isn’t that lovely.”
“When you put it like that it’s not. But it doesn’t matter. I’m not looking for a relationship, all right?” I pull my dad’s old Coldplay t-shirt over my head and head for the food storage where I smell breakfast.
“Kyra! You’re up,” Danny says with a smile.
“You might not be looking for a relationship, but it appears as if someone else is,” Tam murmurs in my ear.
I shrug her away and say, “Yea, thanks. I needed those few extra hours.”
“You’ve been doing so much for all of us, I thought maybe it was time that we give back to you. Even if it was just a couple hours extra of sleep, I thought at least it was something.” He smiles bashfully.
“Thank you. I appreciate it a lot, Danno.”
“Do you mind? I’m trying to eat over here,” Archer grumbles from the box he’s sitting on in the corner. I hadn’t even noticed he was here.
Izzie and Graham hand Tams and I each a bowl of oatmeal. The gray slime is something I would have refused to eat in the Before, but now I practically live off of the stuff. It hasn’t expired, is small and light, and doesn’t require a lot of effort and/or energy to cook. It’s perfect for us.
“Merci,” I say to Graham.
“De rien, la Patronne,” he replies without missing a beat.
“Graham! You speak French?”
“Un peu, mais pas couramment.”
“That’s pretty fluent if you ask me,” Tammy voices.
“I studied in high school,” he answers.
JE LEEST
Journal of the Survivors
TienerfictieSeventeen year old Kyra Leigh North just wants to survive. Well, that and to know what was in "The Cure" that changed cancer patients into zombies. Since her family and best friends had Turned, Kyra's been on the run looking for answers along with a...
