Cured [ManxMan]

Chapter Twenty-Six

My father stood at the far end of the hallway, glaring at me over the heads of the dozens of students between us. They passed mostly unaware, only a few casting glances at one or the other of us, but by now none were surprised.

Still, I was rooted to the spot, frozen beneath my father's anger. It didn't matter how much time passed—days, weeks, now over a month—I still felt like a child every time I caught my father's eye, and I froze like a deer in headlights, afraid to so much as move for fear of further angering him, or drawing him into approaching.

"Topher." Mattie stepped in front of me, blocking my view of my father, and I sucked in a sharp breath. I hadn't realized until that moment that I wasn't even breathing, afraid even that small motion would be enough to draw my father's fury.

"It's alright," he said, his fingers tapping my chin so I would raise my eyes to his in time to catch his brilliant smile. "Don't even look at him, Toph, he's not worth it. Just focus on me, alright?"

Always, I wanted to say but didn't.

Then I was still staring at Mattie, but he looked different. There were lines set into his forehead that weren't there before, and a crease between his eyes had replaced his warm smile.

"Topher? Can you focus for me? Just focus on me, alright?" he said. Gone was the calm, confident teen of my memories, replaced by a tired, worried young man. It was still dark, his face lit only by the dim light from the lamp, but I could still make out the dark circles under his eyes.

Then it was daytime, sunlight streaming through the windows to illuminate Mattie as he paced across the living room. I sat on the couch next to Kiara, watching his progress as he worked toward wearing a hole in our carpet.

"Useless!" Mattie threw his phone for what must have been the tenth time—a real testament to his case, somehow the thing wasn't even cracked—and stopped his pacing to run his hands through his already disheveled hair. "It's been days. Days! Is no one out there doing something about this?"

The power flickered, and we all froze, but it showed no signs of failing. It was only a matter of time, though. Cell phone service failed within hours of the outbreak, and since then our only contact with the outside world was the TV, which we occasionally switched on to check that the screen instructing us to shelter in place hadn't changed.

Assured that at least we still had power, Mattie resumed pacing, his hands still pulling at his hair. "If I had enough gas to make it home and I could make it two hours without getting overrun I could just check on them myself, but of course the day the fucking zombie apocalypse strikes my car is running on fumes and would be lucky to make it out of town."

He stopped to kick the door, not seeming at all bothered by the dent he left there. "Fuck!" he yelled, pulling his foot back for another go.

"Calm down, Mattie," Kiara said placatingly, finally standing from the couch to put her hand on his shoulder, only to be immediately shrugged off. I had to commend her effort; I'd given up trying to calm his frenzies the day before and had resigned myself to holding him in the moments between, where the anger and pacing were replaced by grief and tears. We hadn't been able to contact his family before the phones went down, and by the looks of things, even if they were alive, there would be no way for us to make it to them.

"Don't tell me to calm down!" Mattie yelled, except when I blinked it was dark again, the early light of dawn just lighting the dim bedroom. Mattie stood near the window, breathing hard, his hands buried in his hair.

Ajay stood several feet away, his hands held out toward the younger man, clearly trying to pacify him. He glanced to the side, his eyes briefly meeting mine.