_________This is not a zombie apocalypse novel._________

This story is a metaphor of the ruins of today's humanity, of the plague that is cultural intolerance, the manipulative elite, the fight for resources, the abuse of privilege... it is a metaphor for the overall madness of modern society.

It is the awareness of how the government capitalizes on this insanity.

It is a reference to what lawlessness could look like. 

Most importantly, it is an ode to the sanest political position: anarchy.

As an author I've always felt that I'm not here to confuse you with a wild tale that seems to start from nowhere. I prefer to give my readers the lowdown on the plot before we dive in:

An illness that kills adults yet turns all children- from infants to teens- into flesh-eating creatures, has fallen upon the entire planet. Due to the nature of the crisis, adolescents are note allowed inside government-regulated safety zones, the only places which provide vaccines for the disease. 

This story is about a boy who pretends to be an adult so his family can be safe.

Except for the introduction, which takes place centuries before the outbreak, this book is a journal kept by that boy.
To accurately picture the environment, imagine this story takes place in rural North America around the early 90s. The country is already industrialized, but technology like computers and phones are only just emerging to the public. 

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Click to open the chapter in a new window. 

i ~ The Danger Game

intro

1 - GASOLINE

2 - DUCT TAPE

3 - AMMO

4 - WATER

5 - SHELTER

6 - FISH

7 - SPEED

8 - DISTANCE

9 - COURAGE

10 - SALT

ii ~ The Final Storm 

11 - TIME

12 - BLOOD

13 - MONEY

14 - ACID

15 - PAIN

closure

Part 1

THE DANGER GAME 

Introduction

   Once upon a time, a tribe resting on the coast of a large island fell under a wicked and cursed illness.
   The day before this disease took the lives of more than half the people, a few children had been playing a game called danger.

   The days were long, and with no toys to play with or stories to pretend, several of the children-released from their daily lesson with their families- would race to the beach to fill the day with fun before the sun slept and it was time to return to the forest. Their favorite game to play was to jump into the waters and all grab a hold of a wooden raft. The last to let go would be the winner.

  As simple as the rules were, this was no easy competition. Especially on this particular afternoon, the waves were rough and cold- the sun hidden behind a mist of grey clouds. When the eldest of the children, Eevia, felt the dampness of the sand under her feet, she paused to look up.
   "We shouldn't play in the ocean today," Eevia determined, "the skies advise us not to."

   No one would argue with Eevia- after all, she was the eldest. But after roaming on the safety of the shore, the eldest of the boys- named Agus- felt bored. He nudged shoulders with his best friend Jasi, who had been walking right beside him. He didn't have to say a word for Jasi to know to follow him away from the group.

   The water felt like ice around his toes. Jasi paused to double-check that the others had not watched them depart from the group. No one had, but he still waited timidly before going deeper.

   Agus was trying to hide that he was shivering. "What, are you scared?" he taunted his friend with a cheesy grin. Both of them took a few steps closer to the ocean.
   Now knee deep with goosebumps all over their arms and legs, their absence had caught the attention of a younger girl, who notified Eevia immediately.

   "Get out of there," Eevia halted right where the fizzy foam divided the waters from the sand.

   "Of course you would be scared," Agus stuck out his chin and tongue and glazed over the crowd behind her. "The weather is no match for heroes. Let's play."

   Agus's words had encouraged a few more proud children to enter the water. "The clouds aren't too thick, sister," Jasi persuaded Eevia.
  With a grimace and a grunt, Eevia retrieved the large plank. All the children started to cheer. There would be a game of danger today after all.

   Clothes were left on the shore, but the winds were so fierce that the children had to stack rocks on the cloth to keep them from flying away.
   They swam out to a distance where no one's feet could touch the ocean floor. "All hands on the perimeter!" shouted Agus,who's voice was barely heard against the crashing of distant waves.

   There was no countdown to the start- the children had begun to tire as soon as they submerged. It didn't take long for twenty hands to drop to six. Eevia, Agus and Jasi were the only ones remaining.

   Eevia dropped her arms to tread water for a moment so she could look out to the shore. "We're starting to drift away!" she cried worriedly.

   Agus was more preoccupied with what she'd done than what she'd said. "You're out!"

  "How am I out?" she snapped.

  "You let go with both hands," Agus nearly swallowed a cup of the sea on his last word.

   "We should go back anyways."

   "You're just saying that because you lost!"

   Eevia looked at Jasi gravely. "Come on brother, lets go. Let him win so we can all swim back safely."

   Agus's eyes shifted to glare at Jasi. "Go ahead, do it Jasi! You knew I was going to win anyways."

  Jasi wanted nothing more than to get out of the freezing water, but Agus had messed with his pride for the last time.
   "I can still win!" he bellowed.

   Eevia tried once more to convince her brother, but at the first crack of lightning she grew too afraid to stick around any longer. Agus and Jasi spent many more minutes on the raft. When the sky turned dark blue, Agus finally said,
   "Just give up! You can't win!"
   "You give up!" exclaimed Jasi, angered by the idea that Agus expected him to let himself lose.

   The storm grew fiercer and a large wave tossed the boys underwater. Jasi managed to keep one hand linked to the boat, while Agus reappeared fairly distant.
   "I win!" Jasi cried triumphantly. When the game was over, it was customary to have the runner-up carry the winner back while he rested on the raft- but with another massive wave, Agus was nowhere in sight. Jasi could not even spot out the shore.

    Suddenly immersed in fear, Jasi's heart beat rapidly in his chest and his head grew dizzy. He abandoned the raft and swam as fast as he could, unsure of where he was heading. The waves were crashing in all different directions.

   Exhausted, he tried to float on his back for just a moment to catch his breath- but the sea was relentless. His face sunk beneath the trembling surface.
   He felt a hand drag him underneath the blue.

  "Little land animal," a voice asked him, "what are you doing at the heart of the ocean?"

  Jasi could not respond. He was sure he was drowning. He opened his eyes and saw what had dragged him under the current, to where the water was calmer. A pair of bright glowing eyes lit the man's pale, ethereal features.
  A beam of light dangling from his finger, the man touched Jasi's lips. The young boy gasped; his lungs filled with water.
   Somehow he felt like he could breathe again.

   "There," the man spoke once Jasi seemed a little more comfortable. "Now answer me," he prodded.

  "I don't know," Jasi stuttered, "I just want to go back to the shore."

   "Your body will surely suffer on the surface, now that I've saved you."

   Jasi did not fully understand, but he knew there was something wrong. How could he be alive without breathing air for all these minutes, much less be able to talk? "What have you done to me!?" he cried in panic.
   The man's eyebrows furrowed in disgust. He gripped the boy's neck and dragged him deeper, screwing downwards in an underwater tornado. "How dare you raise your voice at me! You were just a mortal, a doomed one at that! Is this how you repay your maker?"
  Jasi was vibrating in terror, but the powerful man could no longer sympathize. "Go ahead! Get washed up on the shore and dry out like a dead fish. Maybe then you and your greedy species will learn the consequences of your foolish pride."

   The stream of water unraveled, and spat Jasi's body away. Limp and confused, he was returned to the sand on the back of the indignant waves that same night.
   A group of adults had been pacing the shores in search for the missing boy. Still barely alive, his weakened body was taken to the lodge in the center of the village.

   He was awake, but his skin was hot and pale- his breathing quick and staggered. It looked very much like the end.

   This tribe did not have a doctor; the wisdom of the chief was all Jasi's grieving family could look to for an answer to whether or not the boy would survive.

   "It was the son of the earth and the stars who has laid a curse upon this boy," the Chief explained, "his days are numbered."

    A tear splitting from her eyes, Eevia pointed her finger at Agus in rage. "It's his fault!"
    Agus had made it back to the shore safely just minutes after he'd lost sight of the raft, but he too felt somewhat sickened by the events. Ashamed, he turned away and shied his face between the bodies of his parents, who'd been part of the search team.

   An argument commenced between the families, but the chief silenced everyone with a smack of his walking stick on the dark oak floor.
   "There can be lots of discussion on who is at fault, but words of blame will not save the child! We will try to help him, and becoming pitted against one another will ruin our odds."

    Everyone's lips were pressed together tightly as the chief led a march of his people with the boy wrapped in a thick blanket carried in his arms. They journeyed back to the shore, where the thunder was booming and the rain was pouring like a violent mist.

    "Rage, God of the Seas! We accept you here on our shore. Please explain your reasons for harming this innocent boy, so we can accept if fate leaves him passed too soon!"

    A whirlwind of water swept across and the man emerged, his feed locked into the waves beneath him. He stared downward upon all the people-gathered around the body of the boy he'd sent back.
   "You are mistaken," the god speaks righteously, "I have gifted the boy, not harmed him! Your kind is rude... selfish! The other animals only care to survive, and they would have thanked me for what I did. I spared him, and he showed no gratitude."

   The wise chief understood what had occurred now. The god had discovered Jasi when he was drowning and did all he could to save him, which meant converting him into a creature of the sea. The child was too young to acknowledge the terminal consequence of playing the danger game, and yet he was too old to cluelessly accept this wild sentence. Poor Jasi had only been too afraid to express gratitude.
 
    "He's just a child," the chief tried to reason with the god, "it is too soon for him to leave his family and adapt to a life at sea."

   The god pondered this for a moment, then gazed deep into the wide eyes of Eevia and then the face of her distraught parents.
   "Very well," he determined, "I see here a loving family. A caring community. A just leader.  But-!" He raised his arm, and thunder struck all around them, "humans! Your kind keeps me suspicious."

   "Worry not!" the chief called out victoriously, "if a rational leader and a righteous community is what you desire from out people, that is what we will continue to be."

  The god turned away without a further word. The tribe was not sure what that meant- for both the fate of the boy and for their own lives.
  The chief assured everyone that all would end well.
  But that night, Jasi's sleeping body rose from its slumber. His eyes were rolled backwards; only the white parts with their vessel-stained underbellies showed through his cold, crusted eyelids. He mindlessly roamed through the village, terrorizing the people with a hunger for their insides.

  At sunrise, the chief woke to discover what had become of his tribe. Avoiding the twitching bodies of the other children who had been infected as well, he took off for the sea, begging the god to return once more and undo what had become of his village. But even if he did had the power to reverse events and return lives, which is beyond the ability of even the divine, the god would not have taken this tragedy back. He had intended it.
   Why had the god allowed such an undeserving thing to a village he even claimed himself was rightful...? One can't truly know. The chief knew perfectly well, however, that the god he'd asked for mercy from goes by the name of Rage. And though the god did not emerge, from the water he heard a voice, "What use is a warning with no experience of the consequence?"

   And that was the day humanity was warned:
   If we lose the justice in our leadership and the empathy of our people, the sea will come back to steal our children.

  What do you think happened next?

~

begin Jace's journal:

THESE CONTENTS, PLUS ALL OF THE IMAGES TO FOLLOW, WERE ARTIFACTS FOUND TAPED INSIDE AN OLD THREAD-BOUND NOTEBOOK WITH "PROPERTY OF JACE ORION" WRITTEN ON THE INNER FRONT COVER.

Chapter 1 - GASOLINE

    

   I've been lying about my age for so long that I forgot how old I really am.

   It all began when I was about twelve I'm guessing. My family and I were living in one of the few trailer parks that still had a stable community. There were break-ins every week, if not every night, but it was the only choice we had because children my age weren't allowed inside government-created SafeZones. It was too risky. Complaining about it was selfish - just one fluke in the system and you could have a live zombie stuck inside a city with walls two stories tall. Besides, nobody really complained anymore anyways. The whole world was a nightmare.

   I still remember the first time I saw one. My father had his back pressed to the door, my mother handing him just about anything she could find to see if we could wedge the exit shut until help came. Though drops of sweat dripped down his cheek, his face showed no fear. Just pure frustration.
   He looked me between the eyes and said "I am going to do whatever it takes to get us inside a city."

   We traveled westwards for so many miserable months- sleeping in abandoned cars each night. We were told if we continue down the interstate, we might find a SafeZone that would allow me in. One morning I heard something rather unusual: the sound of engines roaring. It was impossible for cars to move on the highway; there were too many stationary ones blocking the way. however, these engines were loud- these vehicles were moving fast.
   My father threw off his shirt and waved it in the air.

   It was a gang of motorcyclists. It had never crossed our minds that motorcycles would be able to weave through the obstacles on the road. They stopped to greet us. They needed gas.

    Upon exchanging stories, we were handed a card. A man who sported a thick gray beard and a studded leather jacket told us about a Ramecha. There was a SafeZone no more than 100 miles north, and they would accept a kid my age. We were overjoyed. I watched our heroes as they stuck these strange pipe devices down the tanks of old cars to retrieve fuel for their bikes. I remember that one of them scruffed my hair as a goodbye, and I had been smiling cheek to cheek in awe and relief as we watched them disappear beyond the horizon. But the sounds of their engines had stirred the hungry children, lusting for a meal.

    The three of us were alone again. We fled, hopping inside a car. The engine would not start, and we knew that the bike gang had been a rare sight- there would be no more help for a long time.

    After an hour passed, my father darted out of the car and raced to another one. He managed to kill all the zombies by pinning them between vehicles, but had not succeeded without a grizzly bite on his arm.

   We were lucky enough to find another inhabited park along the way, and my father survived after suffering through a painful amputation. It's took many months for him to recover and many more until we decided to resume our journey to the SafeZone- except I had changed. I was taller, my jaw more angular and speckled with soft hairs. My mother joked that I would pass for an adult easier than I could pass for under 13, but it no longer became a joke when another group of people admitted that they too were on their way to Ramecha. Traveling in a larger group would make the journey much safer for us, and living in a city finally seemed possible again.
   The only way I could get in was if I lied about my age, so when we eventually arrived with the other group, that's what we did.

   All adults are required to be vaccinated, but the vaccines were proven to be ineffective on children.    An early vaccination meant that I would be penciled in the system as clear, and would never again have the opportunity to prevent the disease.
   It wasn't ideal, but it was too late by the time we reach the border's infirmary. I was trembling from the moment my father wrote me off as 19 to the second the nurse injected the needle in my skin.
   I would never be safe.

   Memories of life before the outbreak were dim until we moved into an apartment inside Central Ramecha. This place felt a lot like the town I used to live in. The only thing that was reminding me of the danger outside was the lie that got me in here; I was not allowed to go to school with other kids my age that had grown up inside of the safety zone – I was supposed to be several years past that kind of education. I join classes for other young adults that were willing to catch up, but it was obvious after just a few weeks of adult school that opportunities for citizens who missed their prime years of school were much more limited.

   Two years after our arrival I was offered a choice:
   Either I would have to find myself a paying job, or the Department of Safety would assign me one as a recruiter. I would leave the safety of Ramecha and join a team of other bodies who were currently useless to the system. We would travel around the abandoned roads of the state and hand out cards just like the one that the bike gang had given us.

   Upon this news I wondered whether or not the bikers where recruiters themselves, but after meeting some of the people who are already in this business, I knew they couldn't have been. The bikers were probably offered that card by a recruiter and denied- knowing that freedom was already ripe for their taking on the lifeless roads.
   Recruiters were all young and dumb; even though I was certain I was the youngest, I felt much more mature than some of the kids who are raised inside the SafeZone. They were all excited to finally leave the confines of the city when I knew they should be terrified. I was especially nervous, knowing that I wasn't properly vaccinated. Would I die if I was bitten, or would I turn? Which would be worse anyways?

   My mother gave me this journal when I told her my choice. We all knew it was dangerous, given that I was probably still a young teenager, but everyone knows that it's impossible to find a decent job in Ramecha. It seems there were only two professions left on our barren planet worth anything anymore. Food and produce dispensers were a difficult branch to join after the industry had become monopolized. Position openings were unheard of. Then there was becoming a doctor. Readily available? Yes... but who would let in a kid like me? I knew nothing of blood and bones except for the awful stench of it when it's fresh outside your lawn.

   We head out of the city tomorrow. Saying goodbye will be hard, but my parents have accepted that I've become an adult now. They've passed into that sighful, comforted state that parents come into when their children are no longer children anymore. Sometimes I feel like they're lying about their age too.

   One of the reasons I picked this fate was because we are going to be given motorcycles.

   The other newly drafted recruiters and I were all driven in a large tank to a motorcycle factory a few hours south of the border. Some people attempted to converse during the trip, but we were in the belly of the machine too loud for comprehension. It left us staring at one another- or at our feet- the whole time. I found myself staring at a girl sitting a few steps in front of me, though I politely tried not to. A lot of us were staring at her though. She looked like she was only sixteen years old, but she was bigger than all of us – well, heavier. She seem to take up two seats.
   I've been trying to catch glimpses of her strange shape, for she was such an outlier to the rest of our group. But then, as the tank jostled us over another car, I saw a lock of her hair shy behind her ear. Her face was miserable, and she quickly unhooked the brown curl so it could shade her eyes from us again. She knew we were watching.
   I should've done something more, but I spent the rest of the time giving disappointed looks to the others whom were still watching.

   The structure of our training was anything but organized. There were a couple old-timers among us who were hired to teach us how to survive the roads. They mostly taunted us, prying on whether or not we were tough enough for this job. I stood before the men respectfully as their voices took up all the peace in the cavernous warehouse. "This is a commitment. This is a service to Ramecha. Are you ready?" It all felt morbidly doomed. If I wasn't feeling ready, how could these giddy fools itching to receive guns be any more ready for this than me?
   Once they quit slandering our inexperience, we were given a few tips. It did feel slightly more preparing to be taught some tricks of the road. One of them was how to extract gasoline from abandoned vehicles. I was reminded of the day we were handed a Ramecha card by the bikers. "Wishing you a safe trip," he'd chuckled. The irony stung now. Just as the memory invaded my mind once more I heard an instructor say, "...and remember to set up camp a good distance from your bikes. The sound will attract the kiddos."

   We were asked who wanted to be in the return crew in case someone got injured. I thought about raising my hand, but two things made me stop:
   If someone was bitten, and I had to carry them on my bike there was a chance I could get infected.
  Secondly, I would've thought that more people would be open to the idea, but no one was volunteering. It was the way the man had said it; his tone was condescending, as if he'd asked who was scared enough to already want a free pass back to safety. I couldn't let myself be the weakest of this crew.
   Eventually there were some volunteers, but I wasn't one of them. Neither was the chubby girl. Her chin stuck forward firmly. I couldn't tell whether she was tense because she was determined to prove herself brave too, or maybe she was trying not to cry.

   It was early in the morning when they open the warehouse's main door. My whole body stung to see the pale light of open sky.

   We were to travel in groups of ten. The girl is in my group. That made the other nine of us nervous and frustrated. How far could we get with her on our team? We would be paid depending on the area we covered. Sure we were on bikes, but how many stops would we have to make because of her?

   A boy nudged my side with his elbow and joked, "well at least if we get hungry will have a meal for the next three weeks."
   I snickered under my breath as well. It couldn't hurt if she couldn't hear it.

   The keys to my bike were pressed into my palm, and for a moment I closed my eyes and pretended like something good was happening to me.

Chapter 2 - DUCT TAPE

   We've been on the road a couple hours now. I think I'm going to like this job after all. Our journey picked up slowly as we got used to the bicycles. They're fairly large and not nearly as cool as the ones I dreamed of owning back when I was just a kid- where the element of balance was involved in riding. These were easy to adapt to, therefore making the most difficult lesson how to navigate between cars. But that became pretty self-explanatory too.
   In the survival-packs we were given, one of the tools was a sharp gadget that could carve through metal like a can-opener. Our instructors stopped us at a large, overturned cargo truck and showed us how to use the tool to open up the metal siding  and retrieve more resources for our journey. After that, they turned back and left the ten of us on our own.
  I remember that moment feeling much more liberating than I'd expected. We were officially on the clock now, I guess.

   During our second stop there was nothing more to discuss regarding survival, which allowed us some time to introduce ourselves to each other. The boy who had bumped my arm to share his joke spoke his name the loudest; a greeting between him and one other seemed to be a statement to all nine of us.
   His name was Augustus, and although he may have been just a few years older than me (In actuality, on paper I was considered 22) he was tall, fit and charming. It only took a few minutes for everyone to deviate to the circle he was a part of.
   Like most of the younger recruiters, Augustus had grown up within the barriers of the SafeZone, and never really experienced the full breadth of the apocalypse devastation. He and a couple others in the group were Ramechan natives. The rest were older, and had seen -to some extent- their share of this reality. They were much more cautious, but the warm, inviting nature of Augustus's conversation persuaded them to stop peeking through the window blinds and spend a moment off guard.

   We were inside a gas station. Most everything had already been ravaged if it wasn't already well past its expiration date. There were a few products I wondered would be worth the extra weight in my bag.
   I noticed the chubby girl paying attention to an item- she wasn't interested in making small talk with the others. I wasn't sure what she was looking at because the aisle between us blocked my vision. She picked it up and slipped it in her bag, returning to gaze out the window.
   I pretended it was a coincidence that I had also decided to scope out that particular aisle. She picked up duct tape. When wasn't duct tape useful? When I was certain she wasn't looking, I too threw a roll into my bag. I didn't want her to think I was watching her.

   "The sun hasn't set yet," I heard Augustus announce, his voice filling all the space in the small building. "We should ride for a little more."

   We were all surprised by who decided to counteract his proposal. "We should stay here," spoke the girl firmly.
   Her tone was stern, enough to earn a moment of respect from Augustus. "What's your name?"
   "Eva."
   "Well... Eva. I know you might be tired. We all are. But the more distance we cover, the larger our paycheck. So I say we ride."
   She pressed her lips together as the others brushed past her, refusing to accept their condescending glares. She did look up at me.
   For the brief moment our eyes matched up, we both understood that we were in agreement. It was not a wise choice to continue at this time of day.

   Eva and I trailed in the back. The wind was too loud for much more communication than basic signals. After half an hour she pumped her fist forward twice. I wasn't sure what that meant until she began speeding ahead of the group. I followed her, dashing through more narrowly spaced vehicles in order to catch up to the front.
   She'd halted the entire group. We all took off our helmets to hear hat she had to say. Again, she suggested, "We should stop here."

   "You're wasting our time!" Augustus growled, "We've got plenty of daylight-"
    "We don't have enough to get us safely to the next stop."
    "I understand you're scared, but-"
    Suddenly she was yelling. "I am not scared, and I'm not your burden! Now all of you, get that thought out of your head and listen to me!"
   Everyone was silent. Her last words had definitely gotten the attention of us all; she'd even widened her gaze to the entire group. She didn't have to look at me to confidently explain, "We just passed a sign that said last stop for the next thirty miles. Maybe we could get there in time, but why risk it? Driving like this... weaving through cars in the dark... I don't imagine its easy, and this is our first night. We should turn back- I saw a motel just a mile off the freeway a little ways back."
    It was the voice of reason, and though none of us expected it coming so assertively from her, we knew she was right. Another girl piped up, "I saw that sign too."
   "Alright, fine," Augustus sighed.
    Our motors back to life, the team followed Eva this time.

    The motel was a good choice for many reasons. We were given sleeping bags, but laying on a floor somewhere would have made us all stiff and cranky for the next morning. Another pleasant surprise was that we found other people. There was an older lesbian couple- the owners- who had proudly wielded their rifles to protect anyone who came through in exchange for food and company. They welcomed us in willingly with what we had to bring.
   Currently the only occupants other than those women was a family of three- a father and his two sons of eight and fourteen.

    There was an awkward hesitation- everyone was privately wondering whether or not we should recruit them for Ramecha. We all knew that the young teen would be turned down at the door. When the father asked us who we were, however, one of the girls in our group felt obliged to explain.
   "I get more worried every day," he heaved a defeated sigh after we mentioned our age cap was thirteen. "Luckily we have Barb and Milly. I'm sure we'd be up with their mother right now if it weren't for those two angels."

   As our group began to filter into the remaining secured rooms of the motel, I noticed Eva depart. I followed her until I saw she'd stopped at the door the family of three resided in. As she knocked, I hid behind a wall.
   It was only incomprehensible mumbling at first, but after a few minutes I could hear a clear sob break from the father's chest. "Thank you," he cried, "thank you so much!"

   When the door clicked shut and I heard Eva's footsteps on the porch hallway, I tried to make a casual escape. She stopped me.
    "What's your name?"
    "Jace," I turned to look at her. I was afraid of the curious expression I might have been wearing now that I had permission to gaze upon her. "What did you tell that man?"
   "There's a way to get into Ramecha when you don't fit the age requirement. You heard about it?"

   Now I felt put on the spot in an entirely different way. I could only shake my head.

   "I noticed that the older boy has a scar on his leg. If he fakes a limp well enough, they'll let him in. They're usually lenient in evaluating disabilities if the family has more younger children involved."
   I did know that. It just never pertained to me since I was an only child. I knew it wasn't in my place to question the ethics of her statement- but to keep up with my own lie- I asked her if she truly felt that was right.

    She bowed her head. "I'm only seventeen, you know?"
    "You're not an adult yet? You don't have to serve..."
    "Eh," she shrugged, cutting me off, "I wanted to. I was sick of my family. I have two younger siblings, and we don't have a dad. I knew my mom couldn't do it anymore on the road. We came to Ramecha when I was fourteen, and they wouldn't let me in. My mom read the guidelines and figured out that obesity counts as a disability. She wasn't willing to permanently injure me to get all of us in, but after I gained all the weight I was never able to lose it, so I guess you can say it was permanent."

    It all made sense now- why she looked so young yet knew so much about survival. I felt sorry at once for ever thinking her size was caused by gluttony, when in fact it was created in pure selflessness. I wonder how she might react knowing I too was just around her age, but what had I sacrificed?
   "You must've lived outside too, she added after some silence. I nodded.

    "Let's stick together," she said, "I know what I look like. But you and I know better than anyone how to survive on these roads."
  She offered her hand, and I took it with a firm grip and a smile.

   The next morning, Eva and I led the pack.

Chapter 3 - AMMO

    After a week on the road, it was pretty clear that Eva was now our leader. Every call she made was sound and agreeable. Augustus wasn't taking it well. He usually glowed, constantly cracking jokes with a sunshine grin. On day three Eva brought us to a packaging factory that had more food than we could carry. Augustus had sneered, "Of course 'Fattyva' knows where to find all the munchies, huh?" No one laughed. Augustus was shut down, like a factory in an apocalypse; he delivered rude jokes no more, and always looked like a dark cloud was hovering above his head.

    We'd been lucky with the weather up to today. The sky is grey, and bares little sun on our planet. No rain yet, but its imminent. At noon, Eva herded us to a restaurant: Doobie's Diner. The seats are glittery red under a thick layer of dust. One of the lights is somehow still working.

   She looked out the window, where a half crispen building seems to be melting around a tall redwood tree. "We shouldn't move today," she tells me, "it's going to rain."
   It's a bold decision- we’ve never paused more than a couple hours in daylight. Then again, there wasn't much daylight to call it that.

   Augustus had heard us. He took it as his chance to make some influence again. "Stop now? You've got to be kidding me." Once again, his loud voice brought everyone's attention to our conversation. They were all listening.
   "It could start pouring at any minute. That's going to be a miserable ride."
   "Since when did you become the weather girl? And since when was this job supposed to be comfortable? It's not our job to cruise around in the sun all day. We have to move." Augustus had actually made a valid argument. Some of the others were joining his side now, a chorus of head nods and excited mumbles.
   "The point of this job is to survive," Eva grumbled. "You keep acting like this is some kind of competition. Well guess what? You can't get anywhere when you're sick with a fever because you've been riding around with soppy clothes."
   "Maybe your body can't handle a little drizzle," Augustus scoffed, "but everyone else here- I'm sure of it- could take a little challenge. Besides, if it starts to rain- worst case scenario- we end up back at Doobie's. We can push ourselves, right my friends?"

    A few teammates were already settled on Augustus's decision, and the zipping of bags was all the sound that remained now. No one argued for Eva- not even me. I was one of the people who still quietly remained on the fence, wondering which of the two would compromise their plan first. Eva, slightly dejected that her merit was no longer being recognized, still seemed adamant on staying.
   "Its not worth it, Augustus. If something bad happens, it adds a whole new layer to the problem if the weather is like this."
    "Fine," Augustus raised his eyebrows, like he was suddenly struck with an idea. "If this is all about comfort levels and not about the actual job, what’s to say we can't split up? D-1..." he pointed at himself, and then to Eva, "...D-2."
   Splitting the group had never crossed any of our minds until now. We all knew there were many safety benefits to traveling together, but it wasn't always convenient to have nine other bodies to look after. Eyes were shifting around in confusion and uncertainty as Augustus and a few other boys- his closer friends from the group- heaved their bags over their shoulders and started towards the door.
   The reality of it was all the remaining people would leave with D-1 too. As great of a leader as she'd proven herself to be, Eva couldn't perform as well in an emergency situation compared to those three well-built men.
   I did what I had to do to keep the group together.
   I grabbed my bag and hurried out the door behind them.
   The cold was already biting my arms. Eva chased me outside, but she couldn't get a word in before Augustus.
   "Ah, the loyal sidekick decides to switch sides! How interesting..."
   "Jace, what are you doing!?"
   I hopped on my bike in silence. Already three more recruiters had come out as well. I was sure the other two were getting prepared to leave already. Eva lowered my arm forcefully as I tried to put my helmet on, and her aggressive action sent chills down my body, I ignored the sparkling sensation between my legs and gave her my reason. "Let's not split the group, Eva. Augustus might be right. Like he said- in the worst case we can turn back. You can say you were right."
   A girl had Eva's bag strap across her arm. "Come on Eva, you shouldn't be alone."
  She took a deep breath and gave in.

  After riding a week in the front, I was too used to the position to give it up. A few minutes into the ride I noticed that Eva was somewhere in the middle of the line. It was Augustus who was next to me this time, his two buddies close behind us. With his incredibly loud voice, he was still able to talk to me- although I couldn't say much as yes or no in return. He seemed to prefer the one way conversation anyways.
  At one point he asked, "so are you and Eva like... a thing, or something?"
  "No!" I shouted back. I wasn't sure why I sounded so defensive.
  "Oh good," he laughed, "'cause you can do so much better, man! I know there's not a lot to look at around here, but I mean, even Wilda Kenks beats oink-oink back there, am I right?"
   "She's not that bad man, come on." Being serious with him would serve no purpose, but his slandering humor was starting to annoy me. I may have thought Eva was beautiful, what was so wrong with that? Ever since she'd opened her story to me and taken charge of our group, I started to look through her physical features and see her for the courageous girl she actually was. In fact, I was starting to believe I had less of a chance with her than she did with me. She was too focused on the task of getting us through our assigned route while reaching out to as many drifters as possible; if she thought about me becoming more than a friend she didn't show it. Her indifference to me didn't make my secret attraction to her any easier.

   Augustus's laughter roared louder than his bike's motor. "You're funny, Jace. You're one of those nice guys. Every group needs to have one I guess. You should join me, Tid and Masco. We'll be unstoppable!"
   He was charming, alright, I had to give him that. I liked the sound of having a quartet of bros to depend upon in this wild recruiting game, and I was already somewhat convinced. Tid and Masco were decent men from what I'd seen. Augustus? I guess he's "one of those mean guys." Every group needs to have one, right?

   We sighted something unusual in the distance. A car had been flipped over, and the rusted metal works of its belly had some white markings on them. Augie and I halted the group.
   The spray paint had faded, and it took some time to decipher the message.

   Port Antigone Shelter - 50 miles South

   "That's just an hour and half," Augustus exclaimed, "we can stop there for the night, and have an early-off day! Let's push this last stretch, people!"
   His engine roared back to life before anyone could differ from his suggestion. A deep mist had already coated the atmosphere, and it didn't take long for the rain to start pouring down. My knuckles felt numb with the combination of wind and wet handles. I looked over at Augie occasionally but he kept his head forward, moving along while pretending he wasn't feeling what all of us surely were.

   Ten minutes went by and then we heard a series of honks. One of the people in the back had started to tremble so badly that they could no longer control their bike. Eva was waiting with her, as well as one other person. A third had sped up to us to stop the group.
    "What do we do?" Masco looked to Augie for a solution. Although he may have been wrong in pushing the limits, he was still the leader in the present moment.
    His eyes flickered to the distance, and then he looked at me. "I guess we should find the nearest place to take shelter."
    But there was nowhere to go. We'd been traveling along a narrow highway, only one lane to the east and one to the west. The rest was trees.

   The girl who'd fallen wasn't too badly hurt -only suffering from rashes from scratching the asphalt- but she was shivering worse than the leaves in the wind. She kept apologizing when she was Augustus and I approaching, her eyes red and framed with teardrops.
    Eva, who had been crouching next to her to comfort the girl, stood up to meet us. Though it was obvious in her face that she was frustrated her advice had not been heeded, she did not mention anything. "She needs to get somewhere warm, or she's going to be too sick to move tomorrow."
   "She can sit on the back of my bike," Augie suggested, "we can still make it to Port Antigone."
    "Penny isn't the only one struggling," Eva snapped, and a crack of thunder followed. She looked up to the sky and then sighed down at her feet. "We have to find the next place on foot, and leave our bikes here. The zombies must already be on their way because of the noise."
    Something I'd picked up from living in Ramecha was that the z-word had become as triggering as a cuss to the people who'd lived within the confines their whole life. After all, most of the natives had never even seen one in real life. Augie seemed startled by her statement, but nevertheless nodded in agreement.
   Another crash, and the rain poured even harder. Now I could barely hear anything under the sound of water droplets panging on my helmet.
   Eva led a group off the road while Augustus, Tid, Masco and I took care of everyone's bikes, parking them all where we could find them tomorrow.

   Then I heard another boom- but it wasn't thunder. It was a gunshot.

  "Look out!" Masco screamed.
   This one was large- maybe a teenager. It was so deformed I couldn't tell whether it had been a boy or a girl. Half of its skeleton crept out of its skin. It was just a few feet away from me, disguised between the trees and shadows.
   Masco had shot it once, but anyone who knew about zombies knows it's not that easy. They don't respond to pain, and their chests are useless to puncture; it was as if they didn't need their lungs. A shot to the heart could stop one, but that required precision, especially in the younger ones. Even then, they seemed to gather themselves and keep coming at you. A shot to the head would eventually kill one, but still, they could keep moving for enough time to do some damage.
   I had never used a gun before. I sure none of us had. We were given guns, not training, not training. One was useless without the other, but I wasn't sure if I would be able to even draw my gun, much less shoot it. I'd only ever had to fight a zombie when I was with my parents, and we never killed them ourselves. We did what he had to do- hit them- run them over- then we'd make a run for it.
    I shot the zombie in the head just as my mind finished racing with all these thoughts of self-doubt. It slowed, and then flopped over.

   There were several more coming from behind that one. All of them were teens.

    Unlike the tales in stories, these creatures moved just as fast as they could. Only a serious injury could stop them, and that didn't mean a hole in the leg, it meant a missing leg. All of these were mostly healthy compared to the first-comer, and they were charging.

   I knew we had to flee, but Augustus stood his ground. He had his gun raised, parallel to his face. He shot several times in a row- until he ran out of ammo. It caused some of them to fall, but three were still sprinting right at him.
    "You have to run!" I cried, but he responded too late. He kicked one of them off his leg, barely managing to scamper back to his feet.
   I'd been so preoccupied watching Augustus struggle to catch up with me that I'd forgotten to keep moving. Tid and Masco were already out of sight.
   Augie was beside me now, and we were speeding down the road as fast as we could- but running straight meant running in a random direction. We were lost.

   He slowed down and both of us looked behind. Had we shaken off our pursuers?
   We pressed our backs against a van, and both of us were trying not to breathe as hard as we were. The van began to shake. Zombies were not very intelligent at times; they tried to walk straight to the smell of their target, often mindlessly banging their bodies against solid surfaces to the point of dismembering themselves.
    Finally one had found its way around the side, and I promptly shot it in the neck. At the same time, another had climbed over the van and jumped onto my back.
   Augustus tried to help me pry it off, but it was too late. I felt teeth entering my skin.

   The first stage is absolute pain.

   The second stage is doubt. You doubt it just happened to you. You think maybe it wasn't that bad, maybe its survivable. You think of just about anything to keep from giving up. Fear kept me from allowing these things to continue eating away at my body; the thought was disturbing.

   The next stage was anger, and I used that anger like fuel. I yanked off the door to the van; it wasn't difficult since the metal hinges were already aged with rust. Wielding the door like a shield, I pressed it up against the remaining zombies and watched them sloppily tumble to the ground.
   While they fought against gravity, trying to find some way back to their feet, I managed to shoot each of the between the eyes. Four eardrum piercing bangs, and just one zombie left. Augustus was wrestling the one that had bit me. He screamed in agony as the creature sunk its teeth into his wrist.
   I didn't have another bullet to spare, so while he continued to pin it down, I came around with the door to the van, placing the ridge across it's neck. With the energy I had left, I managed to sever the head from the body in one push.
 
   They were all dead. Augustus and I had both been bitten. We looked at each other, completely out of breath. We wore blood all over our bodies- some of it, our own.

   Eva broke into tears when she saw us. Tid and Masco were already at the campsite they'd created, and probably had relayed the news that we might not make it. "Are you okay?" she wrapped her arms around me for a moment that felt too short.
   "We were both bitten," Augustus spoke for me, "we'll need to be disinfected and sewn up, but the vaccine should take care of the rest."
    "Of course," she nodded her head, "come, follow me. We found a truck in the forest. Looks like someone tried and failed getting around the traffic. It's not big enough for all of us, but Penny is feeling better- you two can stay inside."
    Everyone stared as we entered the circle. They built a fire beside the truck, and I was enchanted by the flame.

   The fourth stage is wonder.

   Will I die soon? Will I turn?
   What if I turn and I infect more people? What will happen to my parents  when the world discovers that I have lied about my age? What if they can't kill me in time, and I continue to roam around and kill, fully conscious yet unable to stop myself?
    The fire dances, taunting me to come closer. Should I save everyone the trouble and end my life now? Should I walk into the flame?
    I try to take a step forward, but my body is stiff. My neck aches and pulses. I just realized that Eva had been calling my name multiple times. "Jace, are you-"
    The sound goes mute. The flames grows darker. My eyes close; I don't exactly feel it when my back touches the floor.

    Just dreams now.

Chapter 4 - WATER

   The next morning, a few members of the group departed for Port Antigone to see if they could bring back help. It turns out there's a quicker way to the shelter from where we saw the overturned car- by sea. It was a fisherman's town, perhaps the only one left since the outbreak. The open water was a dangerous place since contact with it was the first cause of zombification, but the people of Port Antigone continued to regularly sail fishing boats, now in search of resources and stragglers rather than edible products of the sea. No one really knows if eating a fish or a crab would infect someone- no one tried.
   The port was on the coast of a large island, and the majority of its survivors were indigenous. They were able to support themselves with the resources they found on sailing trips along the state, as well as weaponry they'd  stolen from the evacuated military base on the opposite side of the island, which is where the bridge to cross over by foot was.
   I learned all of this with my eyes still shut.
   Despite all this knowledge I'd picked up from a conversation passed over my paralyzed body, I had no idea where I was now or how I got there. Eva and the doctor of Port Antigone had been discussing the history of his resilient town which chose to remain by the water despite its potential hazards. I heard everything they said, but I could not respond. I could barely breathe.
   Eva pressed something cool up to my lips. It was water. I allowed it to trickle into my mouth, and then I coughed back to life.
 
   My eyes opened. We were in a strange room, with windows placed only at the top edges of the walls. It was daytime, but I could not see much else outside other than the sky. The storm had cleared the sky back to its blue brilliance,
   I slowly tilted my head, gazing upon Eva. She was standing between me and another table with cloth draped over the wood. After inspecting a moment longer, I could see beyond Eva that Augustus was sitting with his back to mine, moaning as the doctor stitched up his arm. I'd been wondering where that occasional pig squeal was coming from.
   "Doctor Veras, he's awake!" She smiled nervously. The doctor had a look at me. He wore a grave frown.
   "How do you feel, son?"
   It was a difficult question. The truth was, I did not feel. I did not feel anything at all. "Okay," I lied.
   "You must have been out cold. You did not flinch at all when I sewed up your neck." Just as he finished speaking, Augustus let out another sharp yelp.
 
   Another man I did not recognize entered through a door at the other end of the small room. "We're near the shore, Doc." He wore the hat of a captain.
   "Stop the ship, We're not ready to dock."
   The captain now bore a concerned expression. "Is everything alright?"
   "Yes. We just need to have these two young men back on their feet." He stared at me again, and if I was capable of feeling panic, this is where it would have kicked in. "Can you stand, my boy?"
   I could stand, although I shouldn't have been able to. It was such an unusual state, not feeling anything. I was tired, practically drained of energy. Yet my body felt light as air. The ground below me felt like clouds.
  Eva tried to help me walk but the doctor stopped her. "He can do it. Come, follow us up to the deck."

  The sun was so bright I couldn't see at first. Even when my eyes adjusted, everything still seemed blurry because of the intense light. The boat we were on was large, meant for many passengers. I peered over the edge as we came up the first set of stares. The waters were dark turquoise and churning pale as the vessel pushed through. Slowly the chaotic garble of white water ceased.
   I heard a loud gunshot.
   Eva screamed. I looked at her, but she was just gaping at me- the only pain she showed was in her face.
   "Why did you shoot him?!"
   I'd been shot? I assumed she was talking about me. A couple other recruiters came to gather around me. I stared down at my body to check for wounds, and finally noticed the deep gash in my chest dripping with fresh blood.
   "He's infected," the doctor said plainly.
   "We've all been vaccinated!" Augustus argued on my behalf, "we can't be infected, he's just recovering like me!"
    "Look at him!" the doctor spat impatiently, "he didn't even know where he was shot!"
    The truth in that was undeniable, and everyone was staring at me now. It wasn't enough, but I'd given some time to consider the outcome of all this... lying. The secret was out now.
    The blood began to trickle on to the wooden deck. My mind felt void of choices on what to do next, but when I heard the captain say, "you ought to finish him off before he gets hungry," I didn't think twice to throw myself backwards, tumbling over the gate and splashing down into the water.

   I could still see the boat above the surface, peering through a blue and red mosaic of ocean and blood. A couple heads peered over the edge to watch me sink deeper...

   There was some sadness as I contemplated,
   the end of my time on this world
   the faces of my parents
   I cried...
   Oh, if only I knew that death would have been much easier that what I had in store for me... (reader, how do you think this journal was finished anyways? Certainly not by a corpse underwater...)
 
   My sobbing caused me to innately take a deep breath, but I knew if could not hurt me anymore than I was already damned. Somehow, taking all the liquid in through my lungs felt reviving! I was slowly able to feel again, and yet I did not feel the pain of the bullet in my chest.

   Then I heard a voice calling out to me.

   "Who are you?"
   I looked around, but all was dark.
   Finally my eyes began to adjust, and I could see clearly, a jaded figure swimming towards me.
   I wasn't sure how to answer. What good would my name do? Jace Orion was a dead man. The figure, although he appeared with human features, seemed supernatural. His eyes glowed and his skin was smooth and amphibious.
  His presence did not strike me as fearful, but I remained on guard as he swam around me a few times contemplatively. "Are you an adult..." two swirls, three swirls, "...or are you a child?"
  "I'm not sure how old I am."
   "How old you are plays no role to that matter," he told me instructively, "are you an adult, or a child?"
   I considered the strange question, nearly stranger than the appearance of this mysterious man himself. "I'm not an adult, but I'm not a child."
   "Then you are neither."
   With a whimsical gesture, he created a current inside the sea that sunk us deeper under the layers of water. I could no longer see the faint light of the surface.
  "What is neither?" I asked.
   "Neither is anything but, but a bit of both!" he sang, pleased with himself.
   He motioned again, and again we sunk.
   He placed his hand under my chin, observing my gaze like a scientist. "Neither," he addressed me, "would you like to live with me and the children?"
   I didn't, and that was mostly because I did not have a clue what a creepy statement like that could possibly mean. But I was even more afraid of how he might react if I refused.
   "Perhaps," I said softly.
 
   Suddenly I felt dozens of trembling fingers touching my skin. Little hands surrounded my ankles, drawing me down to the sea floor. A few fish swam around their small, docile bodies.
   They were children.
   Real, human children... living at the bottom of the ocean. They wore empty grins.

   The man floated behind them and petted their backs kindly. Upon each touch they seemed to tense up and vibrate, a behavior which resembled a muted giggle.  "They don't think or do much, but they are happy- this I am certain of. Soon you will be happy too."
   The fear started to set in. I shook my head, "No.... no... I can't become like this."
   The man frowned. "Well... I assume you want to walk on the shore again."
   I did, but I assumed two things; I felt fine now, but I still carried the infection. If I went back to land I would probably still turn. And the second matter was that this man carried a great pride for where he was living. Stating that I wished to leave would be offensive, and whether it was true or not, it wouldn't help to share it with him.
   "Not the shore," I explained, "I suppose my time on land is done. But these children... they're mindless... meaningless! As long as I'm still alive, my life has to mean something. I can't just be happy without reason."
   He nodded as I spoke, understanding gradually. "That is noble," he claimed. "Unfortunately, my dear friend Neither, you have adult aspiration in a child's body. I have not encountered one like you before, but you are still human. You must choose an element. Be pacified by my waters... or be maddened by the air."
   It was the final option, I realized.
   I chose peace.

  The man's name is Naceo. and he claims he is the god of the sea. I have no reason not to believe him. He's many centuries old, but stuck at seventeen. That was when he left the Havens to live out the rest of his days in his own creation- to be alone and far from home.
   Naceo respected me for reminding him of himself, so he passively allowed me to roam from his den at the ocean floor. Occasionally I would journey to the surface and look around at the world I left behind. At first it was a way of keeping time- knowing how many days and nights had passed through the cycles of blue and black skies- but then I realized that balancing myself between the above sea and below was keeping me sane. I never seemed to fade away into the mindless bliss that Naceo warned me of.
  He noticed this too.
  "You leave often, Neither," he mentioned one day while combing his fingers through the hair of a young girl as if she were a doll.
   I was accustomed to the god's strange but peaceful nature by now. His actions worried me less than his question: "Where do you go?"
   I was honest, and I admitted that I had not quite chosen between air and water. "It's kept me well," I tried on a smile, "and I'm considering... going up... just for a day... to write a letter that I hope will reach my parents."
   Naceo was nodding, but he looked quite bitter. "Your parents? Figures... you're a child."
   "A part of maturity is loving your parents," I stood my ground, knowing Naceo would prefer me to speak my mind rather than accept his insult. But I recalled his history and reasoning for leaving Haven. This concept he did not comprehend- or refused to.
  "Well Neither... you may do as you please. You've spent a good time down here with me, and it has not satisfied you. You must own the judgement on which life you want."
    "I'll be back soon," I confirmed, "it's only for a day."
     I pushed off the bottom.
    "Do not break your promise!" he scowled, suddenly turning grim. "You humans are good at breaking promises."
    I wasn't sure what he meant, but I took it as permission to begin my adventure up.

Chapter 5 - SHELTER

    A storm was brewing by the time I broke through the surface. I lost count of the days when they became weeks, but it was clear that autumn had long shifted into winder. Months of traveling through water hand transformed me into a skilled swimmer, and once I sighted Port Antigone it only took a few minutes to reach the shore. A massive wave carried me violently to the beach.
    I knew better not to approach the shelter from the ocean side, so I walked around the island for as long as I could until someone who’d been tracing the perimeter found me.
   “Are you alright?” said the woman, who was old and thin.
    I nodded, feigning that I was out of breath. “I saw the sign. I’ve been walking for days. Is this Port Antigone?”
    “You nearly missed it,” she laughed warmly, “follow me. I’ll take you to our doctor.”

   I had not forgotten that the doctor was the one who ruthlessly shot me with no warning, yet I was not afraid. Even if he recognized me, I could make up a story that would be more believable than rising from the dead. The boy could have been my twin brother. Lying was never that difficult for me anyways- as I followed the clueless old women in silence, it dawned on me that the first words I’d even spoken after emerging from the sea had been lies.
   However, the tall tales I’d been inventing in my head as the woman led me to the small house (the hospital) vanished as I came face to face with a familiar friend.
   “Jace?” Eva’s eyes bulged in disbelief.
   “Eva…” I gasped. If it were a surprise for me to see her here, I could not even imagine the shock she was experiencing. She had watched me drown.
    “You two know each other?” the woman smiled curiously.
    “Yes… he’s an old friend. Thank you for bringing him Mrs. Geets, I can help him from here.”  She grabbed my wrist and hurried me away into the next room.
   
      I was still wearing the tattered clothes I’d died in. Eva tossed me a new shirt and a fresh pair of pants as she muttered on in disbelief, “how is this possible? How are you still alive?? How are you not a zo-”
    “I am.” I cut her off before she could name it. That identity didn’t quite suit me anyways. “I turned, it’s true.”
    She stopped her pacing and met eyes with me once more. “I don’t understand.”
    “I can explain everything in a moment. First, I need you to tell me that you can get a letter back to Ramecha.”
    Her gaze shifted up as she thought. “Yes, maybe. When you… left… our group, I decided not to continue. I stayed here in Port Antigone, and became an apprentice to the doctor. Right now he’s helping a group which was on their way to Ramecha. If you need to send a letter, you can deliver it through them.
    “That’s perfect,” I already felt somewhat relieved, “Now all I need is a pen and paper.”

     My eyes trembled across the empty page as I searched inside myself for an appropriate tone.
   

   It was as honest as I could concisely be.

   When I set down the pencil, I took an extra moment to gaze at Eva. Her long hair was tied back in a  bun and her eyes seemed brighter. If she lost any weight it wasn't apparent, but she looked happier here than she was on the road.  Perhaps leaving behind all her connections to Ramecha had lessened an emotional load on her shoulders.
  There may not have been much change to Eva, but there was certainly a change in the way I saw her. She was strangely desirable.
    She noticed I folded up the letter.  "Here," she offered her hand, "I'll do my best to get it to Ramecha." My fingers smoothed her palm as we exchanged the paper. The temperature of my skin was noticeably colder, and reminded her of the explanation I owed. "How are you still alive?" she whispered again.
   Could I tell her about Naceo? Would she even believe there was a demented god living at the bottom of the sea? I’d made an important discovery for our doomed generation, and that was related to the ocean- the entity which caused modern society to crumble into apocalypse. “The ocean,” I began, “is the root of all zombies.”
   She already knew this, but she still remained on the edge of her seat and yet perfectly patient. I admired her as I continued, “somehow, breathing ocean water stops the bloodlust. It makes the zombies passive… like living objects. I’ve seen them down there. They aren’t like the ones tormenting us on the earth… but they’re still not right.”
    Eva nodded, a sudden idea lingering excitedly in her eyes. “You must meet Zupak. He had apparently foretold the outbreak, and he also believes in sending the infected to sea… but despite his premonition, not many people believe him.”
   “If I’m to meet with anyone, you should take me soon. See, the only reason I’m still capable of thinking straight is because I was able to find a balance between living above and below the water.”
   It occurred to Eva that this meant I couldn’t stay, and the eager look on her face paled. “How much longer do you have?”
   I’d arrived on the shore earlier in the day and now the sun had just begun its descent on the horizon. I had until next sunrise until Naceo expected me back, but I’d never spent enough time treading water to know how long my sanity could last. When the curse of the sea even slightly began to subdue me, I would immediately travel to the surface and fill my lungs with sobering air. All I knew of the reverse effect was from the day I was bitten, and trying to recall the number of hours from the fight to the fall from the boat was like trying to count change slipped down a dark sewer drain.
   I’d paused long enough for Eva to accept that it was a difficult answer. She wrapped her arms around me suddenly. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Jace…” she pressed her cheek into my collarbone, sending shivers down my spine. “Whatever happened to you- it’s just such a relief knowing you’re not gone. When you threw yourself overboard…. I couldn’t believe what was going on before my eyes. Seeing you now… it’s much nicer to believe, even if it’s much more unbelievable.”
                                                                                           
   We were embracing for a while. I must have allowed her to rest upon me for a moment longer thn I should have, because she pushed away for a moment and firmly laid her hand on my heart. She was large enough that even when unhooked from each other’s grasp, her skin would still be touching mine. "Your heartbeat..." her eyebrows twinged.
   For a moment I was worried that it had been racing, proving I was nervous and overly elated to be in her presence. But I listened for a moment and realized what she'd been stunned by.
   It was missing.

  With one last look of potential flirtation, she led us out from the side door. "Zupak needs to hear your story," she looked back at me but kept moving, " I promise you can trust him." Her priorities were noble.
   "I'm sure I can," I might've been too willing to agree with anything she proposed.
  The neighborhood was large, but the homes were a great distance from each other. I kept wondering which one we'd enter, but we walked further and further until we abandon the large properties altogether. At the edge of the forest there was an ancient house composed of wood that seemed aged far beyond any of the trees beside it. It looked more like an old temple than it did at home. Eva rapped on the door.
   A young man was there to open it almost immediately. "Eva," he gasped, "is everything alright?"
  "Yes everything's fine. I know it's a bit late for a visit, but I was hoping we could speak to Zupak." I wasn't sure whether it was a mention of "we" or something entirely else to cause the man to finally noticed me -a few steps behind Eva's side. The way he was staring informed me that this man's guests where were rarely strangers.
   "You are?"
   "He's a friend," Eva filled in for me. We were allowed inside passively. He did not look at me again.

   The building seemed even older from the inside, but that was mainly because it felt full of history. There were tanned hides of animals I did not even recognize draped over archways. The seats were mostly just stumps, but all of them bore unique patterns carved into their sides. A glowing fire in the back corner was all the heating the room had. I was entranced by the flames like I'd been the night I was infected. It took a jolt of Eva's arm to peel my eyes away.
   There was a fireplace in the next room as well, but I managed to keep my focus on the thing right beside it. In a rocking chair sat a man a century old, wrapped in a fur-coated blanket. His wispy white hairs grew long down his back, and his whiskers were adorned with wooden beads. It took him a moment to summon the strength to look at me, but when he did, his foggy eyes went wide in fear. He cracked open his mouth and sputtered, "What… is… this?"
   Eva got to her knees to comfort the man, who'd begun to tremble before me. "Zupak, this is my friend Jace."
   Both Zupak and I knew what he was seeing. I wavered backwards, not wanting to threaten him. He looked to Eva. "You must know… what he is… is that why you brought him here?" She nodded with a faint smile and asked me to explain my story.

   "I… I'm only seventeen, I guess. I was infected, so I went to the ocean."
   "You found… Rage... God of the Seas." I met eyes with Eva while confirming his statement.  
   "Yes… well, he found me."
   "I still don't understand," the old man croaked, "Rage spares no one. How is it you are here?"
   "My time is short," I admitted, and for a second I felt a deep lump in my throat which demanded that my time was over, but I swallowed it down and forced it away. "I balance between land and sea in order to avoid losing my mind."
   His body still as wood, he studied me with his glassy eyes and then returned his gaze to the fire.
   "About 200 years ago, my grandfather was the chief of the Araki tribe," Zupak began to paint his story. "The day came where the Araki were attacked by their own children. Not many survived, but my grandfather was spared for an important reason: he held the responsibility… of warning the next generations to come… of the return of Rage."
   I'd always had a strong suspicion that Naceo had a major role in the fate of the human species, but I hadn't held it against him. He wasn't sane enough to be evil. "Rage caused this?"
  "Rage began it... We as people caused it. The day my grandfather met the God for the first time, he had made a promise. The deal was… As long as humanity continue to behave purely, Rage would leave us be."
   "The promise was broken," I recalled Naceo's parting words with me, "You humans are good at breaking promises."
   "Long before his return, I already sensed the end was near. Businesses served themselves more than their clients and labor. Government and law became out of common control. Change was impossible… We dehumanized every institution we created… and turned our own species against one another… I thought the end was going to come much sooner, so as a... more youthful man," a sickly cough ironically interjected his speech, "I had tried taking some action against the establishment. I was the last living member of my family, and though I had many followers, the descendants of the Araki tribe were not nearly enough to influence a new way of thinking for all of the world. I waited in fear for rage to return, and had I known that the world was under prepared for his arrival, I would've crowed louder."
   I wasn't sure if I understood his last sentence. "Underprepared?" He bowed his head. "Rage does not know what he's done to the world... the toll his punishment has taken. He intended his actions to wipe away the population like a selective tsunami." Both Eva and I perked up at this idea, curious what it could possibly mean. But Zupak had begun coughing again. "The God..." his cough intensified, "...was expecting..." he managed to sputter between one final hack of the throat that I had to avert my eyes from.
  "...a sacrifice."
   Eva and I turned to see who had finished his sentence. It was the young man, the caretaker. "Rage only wanted our children, not the whole population."
    If that was so, why would the disease kill adults? I was patient to voice this, for Zupak's voice had reentered. "He wanted was to raise a new society of humans – a better one – by taking away everyone's children and raising them in the sea. But once again humanity proved it was too selfish for its own good, and in trying to salvage our lost offspring, we lost more than half the people in our world."
   As he finished with a defeated release of air from his tired chest, I glanced at Eva– wondering if she believed all this jumbo about gods and unsettled debts– after all, I don't think I would have if I hadn't met Naceo myself. She approach the conversation with some doubt. "Jace told me that the children who live in the seat…" she trailed off, looking to me to finish my own observation.
   "He can't have been aiming for a better humanity. The children are... they're incompetent."
  "Well..." breathed the man halfheartedly, "that does not surprise me. He may be a God, that there is a reason we call him Rage."
  "He is chaos," the young man added, "aware of sentience, and yet incapable of controlling it."
   Zupak nodded with a weak grin, proud his lessons weren't forgotten but dismayed that the truth must be so grim. "Yes... life may have potential with his creations, but anything he creates is dead."  
    There was a pause of tension as Eva I struggled not to look at each other and remember the moment we shared earlier when my heart was as silent as a stone.
  "Why then do you think the cure to the apocalypse is returning the infected children to sea?" Eva wondered out loud.
   "An apocalypse has no cure," he frowned, "...only treatment. It's all we can do."

    Zupak thanked me for coming but was reluctant to shake my hand as we departed. He admitted that he was still uncertain of what I was, and seeing as neither of us were wiser to the answer, I bowed respectfully as goodbye.
    Eva, on the other hand, had no fear. As soon as we were outside she pulled me close and kissed me tenderly. Steadily we walked into the forest, and I need her back against the tree. Her curves are so pleasant to hold onto, and I gripped your sides, working my way to her chest from underneath her shirt. Suddenly I realized my teeth we are dangerously close to sinking into her neck. What was worse was that I truly wanted to pierce them in... tear the flesh... rip it out... devour her... I pulled away just before a scream could escape her lips.
   "Did I bite you?!" I cried, flustered. I cupped her cheek and inspected her neck; it was pink end, but intact. I sighed in relief, resting my head against the tree behind her. From the look on her face I regretted my panic at once. If she was about to make a sound, it would have been from pleasure, not pain.
    Frustrated with myself, I drew her in for comfort, the bridges of our noses resting upon one another's at a slight angle. "What would happen…?" she managed to speak between heavy breaths.
   "You know what would happen," I growled, "…I'm not free from this… disease. It took my body and it will take my mind if I'm not careful."
   Our fingers intertwined, she kissed my cheek and said, "come then, I'll walk you out to the shore."

    I wished so badly I could talk to her as we began our trail through the woods down to the beach, but I lost the words as soon as they crossed my mind. Insanity was verging on me. As each nerve in my body slowly faded into numbness, I watched her move from the corner of my vision. Her skin jiggled; she was slow... ripe like a fruit. I knew better not to open my mouth for certainly nothing good would come out of it in the state of mind.
   Finally she spoke to me. "So what's the god of the sea like?"
   I shook my head. "I'll tell you... later."
   "Is something wrong?"
   We kept walking. "I'm a little… irritated," was all I could say.
   The sand was a few steps ahead, so I halted our journey. "Leave me here."
   She didn't move. "It's hard," she trembled, "I really missed you when you were gone, Jace." Had I missed her? I couldn't pry my eyes from her.... or was it her meat? Was it my rotting brain that was telling me to love her? It was wrong to try and judge my feelings in a state of… unfeeling. Yet still I knew there was something more to Eva that I craved. I felt it earlier when we embraced.
   I stripped down in front of her. She caught my clothes as I tossed them towards her. "Keep these. I'll need them the next time I come back."
 "Okay, "she smiled cheerfully although my mood was clearly burning low. She was watching me as I exited the woods in the nude. "I''ll come here often, I'll let you know when your letter has made it."
  "Thank you Eva," I called back to her as I charged into the dark blue. A wave crashed over me and I dove underneath it, allowing the sea to swallow me back inside its quiet belly.

Chapter 6 - FISH

   Eva and I made a habit of meeting up at the beach. At first I would search for her beyond the shore, but I was wet and bare skinned... it was too cold and too risky for that kind of behavior. So eventually, with some convincing on her behalf, I allowed her to come to me.
  On the west side of Antigone island there was a place where land met water through and the sake of large, dark gray rocks. They seemed like the remains of a fallen cliff that now just barely towered beyond the sea like a wilting mountain. Eva laid out a blanket and framed it with stones on the flattest surface. You could still hear waves crashing below, but I wanted to be sure not a single drop could touch her, so I climbed up to meet her.

   Today the winds were mightier than usual, and I was almost completely dry before I ascended the climb up the rocky walls. The sun set quickly, painting the sky deep indigo.
   She was wearing the towel (that she usually draped over me) around her arms and shoulders. When she saw me she tried to give it to me, but I insisted she keep it. We ended up both inside of it after a few minutes, huddling together for warmth. It wasn't that new of a gesture.
    Eva I didn't have much to talk about. We can share the occasional pre-zombie era anecdote, rarely ever daring to speak of the awful things that followed our pleasant childhood. But eventually the difficult stories were told too.
   We were both eleven when the Dackville incident occurred. I was eating a bowl of cereal when I saw my father rush in from the garage, carrying a large suitcase he would only take for long trips. He tossed it on the floor, unzipped it, and then calmly looked up at me and said, "Jacy, son… When you're finished eating can you pick up all your - only your – most favorite clothes? Can you throw them in this bag for me?" I love going on trips, but I immediately sensed something was wrong.

   When we got the chance, Eva I exchanged these uncomfortable memories.
   In her household it had gone down much differently; her mother had grown obsessively fearful with the outbreak since the first account had been released. She gave her thirty days notice on the rental agreement as soon as she put down the article, and the Segwerth family set out on a "road trip to FairyTale Land," a popular theme park right outside the capital. The children were delighted summer came early.
   Eva admitted that her weight problem began long before they reached the outskirts of Ramecha. Her mother had an emotional breakdown the day the Dackville victims escaped, and the only one there to confess to was Eva, the most matured of her kin. But Eva was just eleven, and although she could keep her mother's secret- that there really was no FairyTale Land, not even a destination to this painfully long and boring road trip – she could not handle it. Stuffing herself had become the only way she could cope with the blind optimism of her younger brother and sister, who would rave about the carnival rides and unlimited shaved ice flavors during each stop for a meal.
   Despite this, Eva had only put on a mild extra layer, enough to be considered healthy in times likes these. When the Segwerths were turned away at the gates of Ramecha, her coping mechanism that night had become more apparent. Her mother had finally acknowledged her daughter's problem, yet instead of comforting Eva when she found her hovering over several chocolate wrappers, she left and returned with a packet of marshmallows, encouraging Eva to finish them all. Eva always recalled the offering as "a heartless way to show she cared."
    The family eventually staked out in the same factory Eva had brought Team D to on our third night. Eva was regularly prepared a meal twice the size of her siblings'. The only ones who ever mentioned this accretion of food were her little siblings, who sometimes complained when their dinners seemed much plainer than Eva's. Without ever coming to a verbal agreement, Eva understood the reason behind this strange ritual. Even when her mother recovered a scale and began weighing Eva nightly, the two of them would never speak of why this information was relevant, why "250" was the magic number.
   Her mother had even begun to invent reasons as to why Eva shouldn't move around too much, for "the little ones need you to look over them," even though Amy and Sam were now eight and ten. She did anyways. Much of what she learned was from escaping out at night and being on her own in the streets. She had her mother's gun and a small pack of supplies. "There wasn't much to do by myself since I had to come back in the same condition. But most of the time I would hit the mall and take clothes that actually fit me. What I was wearing back at the factory was..."
   "Too tight?" I didn't usually prod but it seemed like she couldn't finish this by herself.
   "No... it was loose, intentionally, to accommodate for my changing body. But it wasn't very stylish."
    I laughed. It never occurred to me that the dignified and brave Eva would have fashion on her mind. Smiling with me, she continued to explain how she would break into stores and try on dresses and shirts and skirts using the dim moonlight from the ceiling windows to put on her own show, in some attempt to feel beautiful in her skin. When she was finished, she returned all she had tried on to its former racks (for she had grown immensely paranoid that her mother would somehow discover her tracks) and put the loose "pillowcase of an outfit" back on. And as she turned the corner out of the store, a freshly-turned zombie stood right before her.
    "It was my first encounter on one of my late night adventures. I'd done it a hundred times and they were so rare in that town I figured it wasn't ever going to be a problem. So I let my guard down."
  The zombie chased her back into the store, and she did not have enough time to retrieve the gun from the bottom of her bag. She took an empty clothing rack and stabbed it into zombie's heart repeatedly, until it finally ceased it's rampant vibrating and fell skewered to the floor. "I was alive, but dead in another sense... my outfit was splattered with blood. I figured I had two bad options, so I went with the stylish one."
   Tossing the pillowcase was as sweet as it was sour, but when her mother saw the green button-down dress with yellow and pink floral print, Eva dared to lie. She explained that she had found it in a locker of the packaging factory. She was briefly scorned for roaming the factory alone, but the story was bought. "I should have tried it months ago," she laughed timidly.

    From the curious way she spoke about herself, it was evident Eva had never really shared her life story with anyone before. It was as if externalizing her memories was helping her see how much she's grown… how far she'd come despite all the odds. And if I reminded her how beautiful I found her to be, sometimes I could see all traces of regret washed from her face.
    I'm in love with Eva. If it's because she is my only option, or slow insanity is driving my lust for her body, I do not want to know. She keeps me happy.
   I think Eva loves me too, although this idea grows more and more surprising each day. She may be an obese teen living in a humbly populated shelter on an island, but she is still human. Her social freedom is infinitely more available than mine.
   My only other companion these days has been nice, but any chat with him is a sad excuse for a conversation. He's either speaking nonsense or renting to himself. After I learned of his purpose on our planet I begin to view him as a plague, and consequentially avoided him like one. I decided it would be best not to bring up my encounter with the lone descendant of the Araki chief, and though – through messages from Eva – Zupak had expressed further curiosity on the god's temperament, I had nothing more to say. Rage, as he was called, was an interestingly suitable way to sum up his being. He had two emotions, neutrality and wrath, and every interaction I had with him felt like tip-toeing around a sleeping beast, trying to find the right words to avoid stirring his angered half.

   In this fashion, my life was simple. Becoming aquatic and loving Eva were the only two ways left to improve myself.
   But on this windy day, I was introduced to a new dilemma.

   Eva had been struggling to find a way to mention it. Finally she spoke, "I've been here for a while."
   "You came early?"
    She nodded. "I had to get away from the hospital. We had a lot of visitors."
   Eva wouldn't be one to run away just when her help was most needed, nor would she become queasy at the sight of any gore. This issue had another layer. "Who were the visitors...?"
   "Team D."
    Of all our conversations, we'd never bothered to discuss our thoughts on other members of our recruiting team. I knew Eva resented most of them, and I hadn't really attached myself to any of them except the one she resented most. It was never worth bringing up., so we didn't.
   "They're on their way back to Ramecha?"
   "Yeah, but they're taking it easy. They have several families with them, so ts tricky to move."
    For a moment I was thrown back into the recruiter mindset, and I puzzled over how that journey would have to be played out... what would become of the motorcycles, and how would they deal with zombies? But then I was reminded of something else. "My note," I blurted, "...did my parents get my note?"
   She shook her head. The answer was no.
   Not "I haven't heard yet," or "I'm not sure," ...it was no.

   My brain twinged as I started to investigate. "Why?"
   "We reported the causalities....we had to. We didn't know you were lying about your age, and we didn't even say that in the report..."
I was suddenly aware of what had occurred- maybe it was the way she was dancing around the words:
   Once news of my death had gotten back to Ramecha, the government revisited our house to interrogate. My parents were exiled from the SafeZone for lying about my age.

   How long had it been? Winter was nearly over! Months had passed... all this time I thought my parents were coping with my absence under the safety of the city, when really they were actually being punished and left for dead because of my apparent death. It stung like razors in my heart to think of what they had to endure without me, and hurt even worse to try to imagine where they were now.
   "Has anyone heard from them?!" I gasped, not bothering to fathom how unlikely that would be.
   "I'm sorry," Eva whispered, "they left the address you wrote on the letter months ago." They'd been evicted, rather- but Eva spared me the dark language. "They probably didn't go too far! Maybe they found a home right beside the zone. I know there are a lot of families who live against the wall, waiting for their teenagers to..." she trailed off, knowing what she was about to say would have triggered a memory of what could have been done to protect my family.

   My parents had adored Ramecha. All of their neighbors became close friends. My father had pleased everyone with his ability to fix anything with a minimal amount of tools. My mother created many gathers from her activist knowledge and social charm. They hosted events and turned everyone's houses into homes. Parents whom had lost their children early into the pandemic, people who hadn't smiled in years, were happy because of the community work my parents had accomplished. We barely made it into that damn place, and though my parents were somewhat adapted to a life of survival, they were built for a life of intellectual and social challenges.
  To even think of the devastation that followed... being shoved right back out the door that killed their only son...

   I hadn't been paying any attention to what I was doing until I noticed how woozy I'd begun to feel. I was breathing too heavily; my throat felt dry as ashes and my head was spinning. "They didn't deserve to be exiled!" I cried into Eva's shoulder. She shuddered as a broken sob escaped my lungs.
   I was in the wrong setting to be this way. Misery accompanied by air was a recipe for evoking the worst side of me.
   I kisssed Eva as gently as I could manage. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be like this in front of you. I have to go... think."
   Eva grabbed my hand. "Wait. There's one more thing I have to say."
  It was more displeasing news, I could already tell.
   "I turn eighteen in a week," she looked away from me. "I was offered to return with the team so I can get vaccinated."
   I paused, trying to wrap my head around what this meant. "Will you?"
   "Yeah," she sighed, "...it will be good! For us. You won't have to worry about infecting me anymore." It was an issue we'd discussed many times before. I was reluctant to do anything more than kiss and cuddle her for fear that she'd somehow absorb my coldblooded curse.
   But I was hesitant. "How are you so sure that when you get there... you'll want to come back?"
   "Jace," she spoke with a comforting smile, "of course I'll come back for you."
    After all I'd had to decompress today, the though of Eva forgetting about me was beyond my ability to digest. That wasn't the most pressing issue anyways.
   "How are you so sure..." I repeated mystically, "...that you'll make it back?"
   Ramecha was over a week's distance from Port Antigone as I recalled. From the look on Eva's face, she hadn't given the return journey much thought until now. With a layer of coolness glazed over her grin, she promised me that she would make it back- no problems.

   It was harder to say goodbye now, but she told me she'd be back once more before her final departure. "I won't leave you like this."
    Could she see it in my eyes? Eva always understood when the pain arrived... when I needed to return. Sometimes I wonder if it shows on my face in some sort of physical way. Do my lips go pale? Do the whites of my eyes taint pink with irritated vessels? She always hides this look of concern and disgust under a placid smile when I start craving the water.

  As I broke through the surface and little bubbles pluck off my skin, new troubles began to form in my mind. If Eva goes back... if she leaves me... me? I'd be torn apart. Heartbroken. Lonely for a very long time. But...  it would be good for her to be in a safe place. She could live normally; meet someone... normal. I would have to feel okay with those god awful thoughts because it was better for her. I didn't want her to leave, but if she did, I didn't want her to return. Getting back could not be as simple as she'd made it sound.
   I didn't want to believe anything she'd told me today, but the thoughts flooded my head as water flooded my lungs. I began to pay attention to the strange way this felt- the overall bizarre anomaly of the activity. Breathing water. Like a fish.
   "Hello Neither."
   I spun around to find Naceo floating a few feet behind me. I could not pull off a decent conversation with him now, but I could tell from the tone he approached me with that he already knew my emotions were aflutter.
   "I apologize for meddling into...personal business." It all seemed very theatrical, though he wore a serious gaze. "I couldn't help but overhear."
   "Have you been stalking me?!" I spat,
    "Well," he circled me, "it would be unfair to say I was stalking you. If you wanted privacy, you should have chosen somewhere far from my sea to converse with your little friend."
   I lacked the energy to counteract his point, and he may as well be right. He was unusually patient with me as I stormed off, swimming deeper and farther from the shore. "You seem tense, Neither."
  "I'm just thinking about what I have left," I grumbled, "The disease... its flipped my life upside down... ruined my world... caused so much suffering!" I was so frustrated I hardly cared that Naceo and I had traded roles of aggresive ranter and attentive listener.
    When I expected him to retort with the same anger, I was surprises to hear him hum softly, "you could let it all go."
   "...what?"
    He came beside me as we traveled. "I hear you have lost. You are thinking about how much you have left. It's not a lot, hm? not enough to try and pick up the pieces and build up again. Ow, just thinking about it hurts! Just thinking hurts!"
   He wasn't wrong.
   "Leave it all behind. Your life has flipped upside down. Your world is ruined. There's nothing more to go back to. The game is done... the hurting stops now."
  
    Keep breathing water.

    It was obvious that was what he was trying to tell me. It also wasn't the first time he'd try casually making the suggestion, like losing my mind was supposed to be an easy "yes."
   But in this moment in had the potential to make sense.
   I could probably never see my parents again. They already thought I was dead. Perhaps that was an easier concept to swallow than "your son is a fish, walking a dangerous line between empty and violent insanity." And it would free Eva to do whatever she wanted in life. She would have to feel bad for abandoning me, and I wouldn't have to feel bad for being abandoned. I'd be trapped in mindless bliss.
    Naceo was practically salivating with the idea that for once I might consider his offer. I suppose to him I was just one more child, yet his most difficult client. If he could get me- the boy who'd balanced his life for months just to stay sane- to give in...
   "Why do you want me to give up on myself so badly?!"
    I hated the smile he wore, and my question hardly wiped it off his face. "It'll be good for you," he sighed, "I really don't enjoy watching you suffer."
   "You don't make any sense," I snapped, "you don't enjoy watching people suffer, and yet you unleashed a terrifying illness upon the wo-"
   "People were suffering long before I came back to this stupid planet!" he growled viciously.
   I'd never bothered to push him this far, and now I began to tremble at what may come out of that mistake. I remained quiet, but my silence did no healing to his wrath. "Just when I think I'm starting to understand you humans, you start wanting more of this and less of that.. if eternal happiness doesn't satisfy you, what will?!"
   I'd put myself in the ring. I knew I had to fight back. Yet- upon the demand for instant feedback on quite a philosophical question- I felt months of living in this watery cage had prepared me for a response.
   "Humans want freedom," I answered plainly.
   He was baffled, almost enough so to extinguish the flame which was burning inside of him. "Freedom? Freedom from what?"
   "Not free from... free to! Free to be able to design your own fate... to make unique choices. And yes... the freedom from being locked to the sea! As long as we're living, humans will strive for their freedom! And I'm stuck in this goddamn ocean and I want my freedom!"
   If I'd put out a fire before, it was certainly reignited now. I'd never seen Naceo so furious. He clenched his hand around my neck and propelled us down deeper like a bullet. My back collided with the sandy floor; schools of startled fish scattered in all different directions.
   His eyes glowed so brightly they were blinding. "Stop it!" he bellowed, "stop ruining yourselves! You kill yourselves... you kill each other... and maybe that wouldn't be so bad if you weren't killing the planet along with all your murderous nonsense!"
   He wasn't speaking to me... he was speaking to all of humanity. I was dumbfounded, and unprepared to argue on behalf of my entire species. Even if I had something more to say, it was impossible to get a word out. Naceo was choking me, pinching my neck with more intensity each passing second.
   Since we'd come to the ocean floor, there were some children present. Hovering with their toes lightly dragging through the weeds, they gathered around to watch me perish.
   "L-ook..." I managed to utter.
   Naceo looked at the children, letting go of me. "What?!" His voice was everywhere.
   "Look at them..." I explained as I slowly gained back my breath, "...they didn't help me."
   "So?"
   "A human would have helped me."
   Naceo was skeptical. "Why?"
   "Because... most humans value the right... for other humans to be free."
    Naceo snorted. Once, then again. He burst into maniacal laughter. "IMPOSSIBLE!"
    I couldn't speak over his noise. He cackled like a devil. I was scared and confused... what was so hard to understand about freedom? What was so impossible about valuing another humans rights? Perhaps what was impossible was actually getting this narcissistic god to see my side.
   "Neither, Neither, Neither..." he may have composed himself to be able to speak again, but the madness was still present. "You've been neither for too long. Pick a side, won't you?"
   My chest heaved up and down. I was still parallel to the ground, gazing up at him. His finger began to glow at the very tip of the nail. He leaned over me, the light dangling over my nose.
   My perception became fuzzy.

                                 My thoughts


                                                     fled like
                                                          fish

   "Stop!" I grabbed his wrist and tossed him to the floor beside me. The children were motionless spectators.
    Now Naceo was below me, looking up. He laughed again. "Perhaps you have already lost your mind- thinking you could beat me in combat!"
   He'd let me flip him over? I knew it had been too easy.
   "No," I sighed, "I can't beat you. Nor this disease you brought upon me. But I'm not ready yet. Please, let me see my love one last time. Then you can steal my sanity."
   Once wearing the grin of a crazed jester, Naceo's expression suddenly softened. It must've been the mention of love, for now his eyes bared a hint of past regret.
   "Yes, okay." he swallowed, looking horrifically guilty. "Goodnight."

   He is aware of sentience, yet incapable of controlling it.

   As I watched him swim away, the children trailing him like driftwood caught in a stream, I recalled what insight Zupak's caretaker had to share about the god.
   It had just occurred to me how human-like his condition really was.