The girls had been tucked in together in a quiet corner. I’d nagged Viola for wasting car space with sleeping bags when we were packing, but was now sheepishly admitting that they were already useful and we’d not even left the Texas yet. Having tripled checked the building, we were sat outside the glass doors in the last of the sunlight. Viola leaned against the door, knees tucked to her chest and a curling trail of smoke coming from the cigarette in her hand. She brought it to her lips, pulling in a deep drag of smoke down to her lungs.
She held it for a second before exhaling slowly, sending a billowing cloud my way, “All I need now is gin. Behold, Viola Gardener - Mother of the Year!”
“I don’t think the occasional cigarette is going to earn you that award,” I gibed, wafting the smoke away with my hands. She smiled weakly at our exchange, unable to laugh off her worries.
“I swear to god, that kid better be alright,” she moaned, putting her face in her hands. She grumbled something unintelligible and then surfaced again for another lungful of smoke.
“It’s just a little temperature, right? She’ll probably sleep it off,” I replied, nervously.
“Yeah, maybe,” Viola nodded, but I could tell she was as unconvinced as I was. There was nothing to do for now but to wait and let Esther recover.

A tap on the glass behind us made us jump. Hallie’s little face and hands were pressed up against the glass, looking out at us. Viola stubbed the cigarette out swiftly and threw it to the side as I opened the door.
Viola held her arms out, “Everything ok?”
Hallie melted into her mother’s embrace, her dark frizz tickling Viola’s chin. Viola rested a palm against her daughter’s back, letting it gently soothe her.
“I’m scared,” she confided, her little lip wobbling. Viola’s face crumpled and she squeezed her eyes shut as she tightened her grip around her child. She wanted to shelter the two of them from everything, but it just wasn’t possible; and I knew it was slowly eating her alive.
“Everything will be ok, baby,” Viola cooed, “Once your sister is better, we’ll be on the move again. We’ll find somewhere safe to live, and you won’t have to be scared anymore.”
“I want to go home,” Hallie whimpered, burying her face into Viola’s chest.
Viola sighed, “I know, but we can’t, Hal.”
“We’re going to have a new home,” I said, gently. “We’re on an adventure to find it.”
“I don’t want a new home,” Hallie pouted, threatening to burst into tears. “I want our old home and I want Daddy.”
Viola grimaced, pulling a sniffling Hallie even closer. We both knew that even if Brendan was alive, he wasn’t coming home until all this had been resolved, which I wasn’t sure it was going to be. There was no end in sight at the moment. I didn’t know if Viola had accepted that idea yet.
Hallie began sobbing, “I want us all together and safe. I don’t want anyone to get hurt like Esther.”
“What?” Viola asked, her face falling. “Hallie, what do you mean?”
“That man…” Hallie hiccuped through her tears, “at the gas station.”
Viola’s head snapped to look at me questioningly, her face panic-stricken, “Marina?”
“I didn’t see anything,” I said hurriedly, shaking my head, “she never said anything.”
We both looked to a frightened Hallie for further explanation. She was clearly reading our reaction to her words and was starting to look rattled.
She flushed as she stuttered, “H-he reached in through the window-”
Viola forcibly shifted Hallie from her lap and stood abruptly. Hot on her heels, I jumped up as well and grabbed Hallie’s arm, dragging her along behind me as we hurried in to Esther.

Viola dropped to her knees next to her youngest, her breathing ragged with utter panic. Esther was laid on the floor in a restless sleep where we'd left her, sweat sheening her ashen face. She mumbled incoherently as Viola inspected her body. Gently, she turned Esther’s face from side to side, checked her neck and then moved down to her arms. I waited with baited breath, holding Hallie tight in my arms. As Viola turned Esther’s other arm over, she let out a pained cry. That was all I needed to hear to know. The pure grief and anguish that escaped from her throat knocked the air out of my lungs. I sank down onto my haunches, trying to work through the thoughts that were tearing around my mind like a hurricane.
“Marina,” Viola uttered my name, trying to bring me back to the present. It registered with me just enough to spur me back into action. I crawled over to her and draped my arms around her shoulders as she leaned in and clung to me as she sobbed silently. She’d left Esther’s arm turned up, the underside displaying the cause of her fever. Into her soft, dark flesh, four short tracks had been carved. It was easy to miss if you weren’t looking for it, but there it was, staring us in the face.
“Why didn’t she tell us?” Viola whispered in between her heaving sobs. I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t think. I felt paralysed. I was trying to will my body to do something, my mouth to speak, but nothing was happening.
“What do we do?” Viola asked, looking at me helplessly. “That’s my baby.”
“Come on,” I replied, finally finding my voice. I stood, pulling her to her feet as well. Leading her out to the front of the building again, I sat her back in her place against the wall and pulled Hallie over to the car.
“Auntie Maz? What’s happening?” she asked, her voice wobbling. She was clearly terrified, but doing her best to hide it. I blinked away the tears that were threatening to start falling.
“Your sister is very sick, sweetie. Your mom and I have to figure out how to help her,” I answered, quietly. I didn’t know how to explain the situation to her without scaring her further, so I left it at that. I opened the car door and ushered her into the back seat. “I need you to wait here, Hallie. Your mom and I need to talk by ourselves. You keep this door locked, you understand? We won’t take our eyes off of you, I promise. We just have to figure this out.”
“Is Esther going to go to heaven?” she asked innocently, eyes wide and lip trembling.
“Just wait here while I talk to your mom,” I replied, dodging her question. I closed the door before she could ask anything else, not trusting myself to answer in the right way - that was Viola’s job. There was a reason I’d not had kids.

I returned to Viola’s side. Her face was pale and she was frantically puffing away on another cigarette, not caring this time if Hallie saw.
“You okay?” I asked dumbly, even though I knew it was a stupid question. Viola’s eyes slowly rose to meet mine. The devastation on her face broke my heart. She took another deep drag of her cigarette and looked away.
“She’s going to change, isn’t she?” she said, slowly, her voice cracking as she spoke.
“We don’t know that,” I tried to offer, but she shook her head.
“Don’t do that,” she clipped, shooting me a warning look. “I know it, you know it. She’s going to change and she won’t be my daughter anymore.”
“Vi-”
She cut me off, her words becoming more hysterical by the second, “She’ll be one of them. I can’t- I- I don’t know what to do. I can’t see that happen. We have to stop it. Please, Marina. I need you to do this for me.”
“Do what?” I asked, my head flooding with thoughts of Esther becoming one of them, just like Miles had. Viola was shaking her head as the tears rolled down her cheeks. She buried her face into her knees as she held herself tightly.
“Someone has to stop it,” she whispered, just loud enough for me to hear. I blinked a few times, not comprehending what she was suggesting. She tried again, “I need you to stop it. I can’t do it.”
“Stop it?” I repeated, still numb as I tried to fumble my way through her words.
“Marina,” she breathed, looking up at me. “She can’t come with us, but I can’t leave her here. I’m her mother, though, I can’t…”
My words stumbled as they fell from my mouth, the realisation beginning to dawn on me, “Viola… what are you asking me?”
This can’t be real. My ears are ringing, my heartbeat is thumping so loudly in my head and I can’t hold myself up. As I sink to my knees, she looks up, staring at me with dead eyes.
“I need you to stop her pain. I need you to… to kill her.”

“Whoa, deep in thought there, huh?” Brian laughed, as I walked right into his stationary figure.
“Oh god, I’m sorry,” I stuttered, the collision breaking me out of my thoughts. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Yeah, I could tell by the way you crashed into me,” he smirked. He swept his arm across the room, gesturing for us to take it in.
“This is Avenged HQ,” he announced, inviting us to admire the gigantic room.
“Avenged?” I asked, taking in the fixtures and fittings. It had once been a lounge, made apparent by the large TV on the wall and the more-than-adequate amount of seating. There were boxes stacked in a corner holding enough food and water to last for months, plenty of weapons and ammunition, and an ungodly amount of cigarette packets stockpiled in another corner.
“Oh, that’s just a stupid nickname,” Brian muttered, shrugging it off. “What do you think?”
“Well, you certainly won’t be going through nicotine withdrawal any time soon,” I quipped, calling upon my poor knowledge of maths to try and estimate how many packets were there.
“Gotta have some luxuries,” Brian winked, looking amused. I realised my brow was furrowed as I had furiously attempted multiplication in my head. I shook it off, settling on a final answer of ‘lots’.
“What will you do when this stuff runs out?” I asked, turning to look at the wall that Hallie was inspecting. It had been covered in scrawl and child-like pictures. Make no mistake - these images were not drawn by children, just by… artistically disadvantaged adults. It kind of reminded me of the sort of stuff you would see etched into the condensation on middle school buses.
“We’ll find more,” Brian answered, shrugging again.
“What happens when you can’t find more?” I countered, raising an eyebrow.
Brian gave me a quizzical look, “Do you have any friends?”
“What?” I turned back to face him, challenging his stupid question with a pointed look.
“It’s just, you’re kind of depressing,” he smirked, his tone dry.
“I didn’t think an apocalyptic viral pandemic was the sort of place to pick friends up,” I replied haughtily, smarting from his jibe. “I’d rather be by myself than ripped to pieces.”
He let out a short, but playful, laugh, “See? Depressing.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, but let it slip, turning my attention back to the room.

A lot of hours had been clocked up here, clearly. There were various empty packets strewn around, overflowing ashtrays and a very tall pyramid of cans.
“You guys drink?” I asked, incredulously. Brian’s lip curled upwards.
“Luxuries,” he repeated, wiggling his brows. “It helps to pass the time.”
I had to admit that it prickled me with jealousy knowing that Hallie and I had spent the last two years almost too afraid to sleep, while these guys were lording it up at ‘Avenged HQ’ and getting well and truly sauced - judging by the sheer height of that pyramid, anyway.
“You want one?” He asked, noting my yearning look at the cans. He dug around in the small fridge behind him and tossed me a lager, which I caught, much to my amazement. I hesitated for a moment before succumbing to the impulse.
“Fuck it,” I shrugged, letting a smile crack my face as I flicked the can open and took a long draught. The sweet bitterness hit the back of my throat, refreshing my drive in a way that only alcohol could. I was so taken in by the sheer pleasure of it all that it took me a second to realise the glaringly obvious. Brian lapped up the look of bewilderment on my face with a smug grin.
“Hold up a second,” I blurted, looking from Brian, to the can in my hand, and back again. “This is fucking ice cold. That fridge works?”
Brian gave me a knowing smile and one word.
“Luxuries.”

Notes

Am I really about to go to that dark place? :/