CW: blood, some gore
The end of the world was insubstantial compared to what came after.
Javi sobbed as his parents choked out dying words of ‘stay alive’ on their tongues—as they made him promise to. He heard the shriekers tear them apart limb by limb and spill blood from blue veins, one oozing artery to another. Incoherence—then silence.
Maya was hastily blockading the front door with furniture and closing the blinds as she trembled. And there was Ben, wrestling Javi away while the creatures that murdered his family in cold blood stalked around the house, talons clacking and hooked beaks gnashing.
But all Javi could do was curl into a fetal position and cry achingly into musty, stained carpets his siblings used to crawl across.
“Javi. Javi, look at me.” Ben gripped his shoulder. “We have to hide, so you need to pull yourself together for now, okay?”
Javi stifled a cry. “My parents just died, Ben.” His voice reverberated in his head, muffled by the staticky blood in his ears, booming against the heart in his throat. “I can’t just—”
“I know, but we seriously need to move so you don’t die. Quietly.” Ben let go of him, only to topple backward as Javi’s knuckles collided with his jaw.
“Leave me the hell alone,” Javi seethed. “I’d rather go outside and die than listen to some asshole like you.”
Ben grazed his chin gingerly, wincing when his fingers brushed over the already-swelling area; his glasses sat crooked on his nose. Javi fisted his shirt collar, teeth bared, tears spilling, but Maya intercepted before either of them could escalate the fight.
“Get off your asses. We’re going. Now.”
“But–”
“Javi, you’re frustrated and angry, and we both know Ben can be an insensitive jerk, like, sometimes—I get it. But dying is objectively worse, so are you gonna hustle, or do I have to drag you up the stairs, kickin’ and screamin’? Because I will.”
Maya exhaled shakily as she stared down at him, sweat crowning her face, and Javi knew better than to push her buttons. So he shut up and trudged his worn, dirt-covered sneakers after her and Ben.
The world must’ve incredibly hated them when Javi’s room door refused to open, worn hinges stuck due to time. (He was supposed to get it fixed before everything went to hell. Clearly, that wasn’t ever going to happen.) Javi managed to force it open after the fourth or fifth kick while Ben insisted they use a crowbar from the garage. The rusty nails tore from the wooden frame, taking the entire door and a few splinters from the frame too.
“See? I got it open just fine!”
“A crowbar would’ve been faster.” Ben pointed at Javi’s feet, mouth scrunched. “And less painful.”
Javi scoffed. “Well, clearly, it was worth it.”
“It could’ve been worth it if you actually cleaned your room for once. It still looks the same after four months.” Ben picked up a sweatshirt off the room floor, nose wrinkled in disgust. “Gross, much?”
Javi snatched it away. “You just never shut up, do you?”
Maya shoved them both inside and propped up the door behind her before whirling around. “Both of you—are idiots. We could’ve died just now!” She fixed a glare at Javi, then Ben. “You really pick the best times to fight.”
Ben’s eyes drifted to the floor. “I didn’t physically harm someone, at least.”
Javi blinked in surprise. “And I didn’t tell someone to suck it up after their parents—”
“You know that’s not what I said.” Ben protested, shoving his hands into his vest pockets. “But—for what it’s worth—I am sorry.” He lowered his head. “I was being insensitive.”
Javi weighed his words. Maybe Ben had simply panicked. Maybe Ben had been scared of losing him the same way Javi lost his parents. Either way, Javi found his anger dissolving, and he waved a hand in dismissal. “Hey, I punched you. If anyone’s sorry, it should be me—but I appreciate it.”
“Yeah. My face still hurts, you moron.”
“You deserved it.” They both snickered, and Maya’s mouth quirked up as she walked toward the bedroom window, stepping over numerous sketchbooks, pencils, and discarded clothes on Javi’s bedroom floor.
She sighed, almost tripping over a case of markers. “Javi, are you ever going to clean your room?”
“You think I had time to clean my room while we were trying not to die?” quipped Javi. “And you can’t be saying that when Ben’s hair looks like a mop.”
Ben shook his head. “That's BS. Asians have great hair.” Javi stuck his tongue out at him.
Maya cleared her throat loudly. “Help me check outside before I strangle you both.” She reached for the curtains—and was met with a shrieker slamming into the window, neck snapping on impact. “Shit—” Maya mumbled. “Damn shrieker—”
Ben yanked Javi a few steps back. “Maya, get away from the window.”
They huddled together in the corner furthest from the blood-smeared window—remains from the shrieker’s final spoils—and slid down the wall onto the carpet floor, too petrified to breathe. The room seemed to shrink and expand at the same time.
“…Shit.” Javi shook all over. “Oh, shit—my parents—God, they’re…they died. Christ—I watched them die.” Cold sweat dampened his neck; his tongue swam vilely in his throat, and Javi’s temples rang like someone had run a drill through his head.
Maya swept her braids over a shoulder, her figure blending into shadow. “Let it sink in, Javi, then let it all out. Keep breathing. We’re as safe as we can get now.” Still, her voice wavered. “We’re gonna make it.”
“What if we don’t?” Javi spat out a sob. “We’ve seen so many people get torn apart by those…things—and I just—” he faltered—“I just think giving up feels so much easier. Now that—all our families—” He shut his mouth, too nauseous to speak another word.
A pressure settled over Javi’s hand, Ben’s voice feather-light in the dark. “We’ll figure it out one step at a time, okay?” He gripped Javi’s fingers so confidently.
“He’s right, Javi.” Maya slumped against the wall. “We don’t know everything right now, and that’s okay. Sure, we’ve lost pretty much everyone we knew,” she sighed, hugging her knees. “And I have no idea how you actually managed to get your shit together back there—I mean—your parents—” Javi inhaled stiffly, and her eyes darted away. “Um—but we at least have to try to make it through this. Maybe things can still get better.”
“And we still have each other,” Ben added. “We will still have each other.”
Maya snorted. “Not like I’m goin’ anywhere. That, I can promise you.”
They looked at Javi, Maya reassuringly, Ben expectantly, and Javi wiped his eyes. “I know that. Of course I know that.”
“Maybe we’ll end up finding other survivors too,” said Maya. “Think about it.”
Ben raised an eyebrow. “What, like the weird, apocalyptic, zombie shows you used to watch all the time?”
“Really, Ben? That’s what you think of me?”
This drew a laugh from Javi, and then they were all giggling in the dark, voices illuminated by a companionship that still flickered sprightly despite the end of the world.
Just for a moment, Javi was able to forget about everything. If he had Ben and Maya at his side, maybe he would stay alive, together with them. That hope was the only silver lining, really.
—
The dawn rose with nothing—no birds, no lawnmower whirring in a neighbor’s yard, no rustling wind. Even the shriekers showed zero signs of their presence.
The night before was worse: except for an occasional breeze or distant cry of a shrieker, everything else stood unnervingly still. Javi’s room had been in stifling darkness with the curtains closed and every single light in the house off (so they didn’t draw unwanted attention). Yet Javi’s eyebags had never been this heavy.
Maya walked through the door as he sat up.
“Hey. How’d you sleep?” She handed Javi a paper bowl of stale cereal, yawning. Her twist braids were pulled into a low bun, two shorter ones hanging in front of her ears, and she had already stolen one of Javi’s shirts.
“Fine, I guess.” They were all pretending to sleep at some point. But no one cared enough to address it during the night. “Where’s Ben?”
“He’s downstairs raiding your house supplies. We still need to organize everything, so join us after you’re done eating.”
“Supplies?”
Maya grinned tiredly. “You know—food, equipment, maybe weapons. Whatever we think is practical.” With that, she walked off.
Javi carded through his hair, grumbling to himself. His eyelids were definitely swollen, and his throat felt severely scratchy. He should be recovering right now, not trying to “organize supplies.” On the other hand, Maya had always been like this: ready, steady, and non-stop planning. It was better to go along with her whims than try complaining.
Javi stared at his bowl. He scooped up a handful of the plain cereal and slowly chewed until the sound became too similar to the crunch of bones snapping.
When Javi finally walked downstairs, Ben tossed him a few paper bags he’d found in one of the kitchen cabinets.
Javi stared at him blankly. “What’s this for?”
“We’re organizing all the non-expired food and everything else we find into those.” Ben handed him a can of preserved peaches. “You sort all the canned fruit. I’ve got proteins covered.”
“Yeah? And what’s that include, exactly?”
Ben continued sifting through the cans as Javi sat down next to him, bumping Ben’s knee with his. “Sorry, I forgot beans were a touchy subject.”
“Uh—the frijole incident was a one-time thing.”
Ben shrugged. “Trauma is trauma.”. Javi rolled his eyes dramatically.
Eventually, all the food was neatly sorted into labeled bags—not a lot of it had expired, fortunately. Javi never fully comprehended the extent of food his family had stashed away until now, and he could only gawk at the amount of equipment Maya had pulled out of the garage. Boxes stacked on boxes of varying sizes of lamps, flashlights, and random tools were arranged on the ground.
“Maya, what the hell?” Javi picked up an old, wooden baseball bat. “I haven’t seen some of this stuff in years.”
Maya shrugged. “I did some digging.” She turned around to grab something behind a storage shelf. “Check this.”
Javi let out a huge gasp before Ben could respond. “You turned a broom into a spear?” He pointed at the long stick in Maya’s hand. “When’d you do that?”
Maya shrugged again. “I had some spare time, so. And,” she continued, smiling. “I have some more ideas for you guys.”
However, Javi was met with an immense wave of disappointment—because while Ben ended up with a nailed bat, he was given a jumble of pipes, hammered and fused together into a handheld weapon of some sort.
“Tell me why Ben gets something cool like you, but I’m stuck with whatever this is.”
Maya examined her broomstick spear. “Ben played baseball, so logically, he would use the bat, and your arm strength is better suited for heavy-swinging.”
Javi scoffed. “You just didn’t want the lame-ass pipes.”
Maya gave him a half-smile. “Who knows?”
—
They spent the next two days discussing courses of action in case of emergencies and ideas for escape—all Maya’s doing. Javi would’ve preferred to stay in bed, given his eyes constantly felt like they were glued shut. (And given he usually slept in pretty late.)
But Maya wouldn’t let him.
During lunch on the second day, he struggled to listen to what she and Ben had to say about stealing a car—
“Wait, wait, wait,” Javi interrupted, blinking sleep out of his eyes. “Why are we stealing a car again? The shriekers will show up as soon as they hear the engine turn on.”
Maya sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Like I’ve been saying for the past two minutes, it’s not like shriekers have supersonic hearing or anything. So if we had your one neighbor’s electric car—”
“Ms. Cohen? The cat lady?”
“—Yeah, her. We’d have both an escape route and a means of transportation.” She plucked out a slice of tomato from her sandwich. “We’re bound to leave your house at some point when supplies are low—or if we get attacked.”
“Attacked? The shriekers can’t get in.”
“It’s not just about the shriekers, Javi. People get desperate,” said Ben. “And some will do what they think they have to do.” Maya nodded.
Javi already knew that. He’d seen enough corpses with strangle marks around their necks, some riddled with bullet holes, others beaten purple-red and swollen. No matter how gruesome, the shriekers couldn’t have caused any of those deaths.
But, at the same time, he couldn’t see himself stepping outside. Not when he was safe here—in his home—away from his parents’ bodies. If he’d have to watch Maya and Ben get—
“I—can’t,” Javi stammered, backing away. “I can’t go out.”
Maya reached for his shoulder. “Javi, please—you have to at least try, right?”
God, no. There was no way any of them could survive those knife-like teeth and barbed talons, all entirely designed to feed on human flesh. They’d instantly be another three tick marks on a growing death toll.
“Javi.” Javi looked up, and the world swayed queasily with him. Ben held up a green backpack filled with supplies. “Believe in us. We’ll make it.”
Javi shook off Maya’s hand. “No—”
“We will. I promise.”
He stared at Ben, hands frozen between hugging himself and partially stretched towards the bag. He wanted to scream at everything, at Ben. Because Ben didn’t have the power to be making promises. Ben shouldn’t be this careless, so determined and unwavering. That part of him, to Javi, was pure and plain madness.
But the twitch of Javi’s hands said otherwise.
He knew he should go—because he was supposed to stay alive—but staying alive would mean nothing if he had no one. And he couldn’t have ‘no one’ if he wanted to stay alive. His fingers inched toward the bag.
Ben was asking him to believe in them. Maya was asking him to take a chance. Both of them were here, standing in front of him—breathing. Alive.
That was all Javi needed. That was all he wanted.
“…Okay.” He grabbed the bag. Ben and Maya beamed at him as if he had done something heroic instead of having a near-mental breakdown.
As the three of them made their way downstairs and out the backdoor, Javi glanced behind them, almost expectant to see his parents waiting for him inside. Half-open newspapers and half-empty mugs were scattered on the kitchen counter.
He could’ve bet on those halves. He could’ve pretended that half of anything meant something, and there was still a slight chance that his family wasn’t all—don’t think about it. Javi had heard what happened—even if he didn’t see it. And Javi couldn’t let it happen again.
Just stay alive, he told himself; stay together.
And if he couldn’t do either, then he’d rather die.
“Coast looks clear. Go,” Maya whispered.
Javi bolted toward the garage’s side door, muttering under his breath. His knees hurt like hell from kneeling on Ms. Cohen’s concrete driveway (behind a row of evergreen shrubs that were also housing bugs). They’d waited for so long—too long—Javi thought his jaw might snap from clenching it for the past ten minutes.
“Let’s just get this over with,” sighed Ben. Maya pulled out a crowbar from her bag and held it out. He grabbed it, wedged the sharp end into the door’s small opening, and yanked the hooked end towards him. It only budged slightly.
“Ben, hurry up.” Javi tried to wipe the sweat off his hands—to no avail.
The door gave way after another harsh yank, and the three of them hurried through. Maya’s flashlight flickered on as they fumbled around, searching for the garage button.
“Found it,” said Ben. “Javi, the speaker.”
Javi pressed his phone screen and set it down, and a loud blast of music echoed outside as the garage door started to move. The three of them held their breaths as the silhouette of a shrieker, then two, three—an entire horde of them—zipped through the cloudy sky and dived at the speaker, hissing and mauling and screeching.
Javi dug his nails into his arm.
They could suddenly be heard by shriekers. The speaker could break too soon. Maybe they would get attacked—with the garage door now open. Anything could go wrong, and they’d be breathing their last breaths in a dingy garage.
But the garage door eventually stopped. And the shriekers gradually lost interest when the speaker fizzled out, battered beyond recognition.
“What the hell,” Javi huffed in disbelief. “We actually pulled it off.”
Maya smirked triumphantly. “We did.” She turned her flashlight off and stood up. “Let’s not relocate the car since its charger is here.” She pointed to a folded tarp in the corner of the garage. “And we can pin that up as a fake door so no one tries to take it.”
“Don’t forget to find the keys,” Javi added.
Maya rubbed her hands together. “Let’s get to work then.”
On their way back to Javi’s house, Ben elbowed Javi in the side as Maya went on talking about more plans she had.
“See,” he whispered. “I told you we’d be fine.”
Javi rolled his eyes.
—
More days went by. And then a week passed. Javi never fully comprehended the extent of food his family had stashed away until now, many preserved, many simply long-term foods. The garage also contained arrays and boxes of equipment—small lamps, flashlights, binoculars, sleeping bags, and tools that doubled as weapons; Javi even found an old wooden baseball bat. Maya jokingly asked if his family had been preparing for an apocalypse, to which he laughed bitterly in response. ‘At least it’s saving our asses now,’ she offered.
Javi and Ben often got into meaningless quips—over who got which flashlight, who slept where in Javi’s room (they were all too afraid to separate into different rooms), and, once, their debate on which brand of mac and cheese tasted the best nearly erupted into petty silent treatment until Maya boldly proclaimed they were both gross.
“I’m just sayin’,” she shrugged, hands raised in surrender. “Making mac and cheese yourself is better than any store-bought, instant ones. You’d both agree with me if you were any good at cooking.”
Ben narrowed his eyes. “I literally went to a summer camp for cooking.”
“But you won't make mac and cheese?” Maya folded her arms.
“Sorry we’re not five-star chefs like you,” Javi huffed. “And everyone buys mac n’ cheese from a grocery store. It’s just that some people—” he side-eyed Ben— “like the wrong brand.”
Maya made a face. “What are you two on? It’s just mac and cheese. Who the hell cares where you get it from?”
—
Ten days in, Ben stumbled into a dust-bathed storage room after scrambling away from Maya and Javi—a game of hide-and-seek turned tag after lounging around in boredom all morning.
“You good?” Javi pulled him up as Maya scraped the dust out of her face and hair, laughing smugly.
“Yeah—shut up, Maya.” She stuck out her tongue at him. “What is this room, anyway?”
Maya swatted at the air. “There’s nothing but dust everywhere.”
“No, really,” muttered Ben.
“Oh, wait.” Javi stepped closer to the shelves. “I think most of this was Camila’s stuff before she moved out. Looks like my parents never got rid of it.”
Maya sneezed. “Is—was she the Stanford one?”
“Dude. Both of my older sisters went to Stanford. For different things, though. Actually, I feel like we’ve been through this.” Maya curled her lip in mock annoyance.
“The science one, then?” Ben plucked a book from a nearby bookshelf, scrutinizing the grimy cover.
“Ben. They were both—never mind.”
They spent the rest of the day perusing the ancient belongings of Camila, ‘the science, Stanford one.’ Ben found a green lava lamp that worked despite its casing of abandoned spiderwebs, and they decided to use it as a night light before the electricity dwindled to nothing. Minutes later, Javi saw a cockroach scuttle across the floor and screeched atrociously, which startled Ben, who pulled Javi behind him—raising the lamp as a weapon.
Maya ducked out of the way as the cord narrowly missed her nose. “Javi, watch out! It’s crawling up your leg!”
Javi let out another squawk and, jumping around, latched onto Ben. “Ben—help!”
“Javi, ow–”
“I can’t find it!—where is it!?”
By the time Javi realized it was a joke, his face, flushed, was buried in his hands, and the lava lamp rested in slimy pieces on the ground, Maya wheezing so hard she nearly doubled over. Ben kicked a dead spider towards her in retaliation.
—
Things weren’t as bad as they seemed—because Javi had Ben and Maya.
He remembered how relieved he was when both of them had texted him to ask if he was safe after the apocalypse had started. How much he’d cried when they showed up at his door, covered in blood, shaking, hyperventilating, but all he cared about was that they weren’t dead.
Then again, as soon as they turned the lights off and clambered into their respective sleeping spots—which rotated daily—all his exhaustion channeled into nerves.
Javi used to listen to the sound of droned TV and sizzling oil downstairs, where his abuelo dozed on the couch and his abuela fried croquetas. She always made them with jamón y queso, and Javi would complain endearingly each time that he wanted chicken instead. To say he missed them would be an understatement.
Now, as Ben tossed and turned on the floor, as Maya chewed her lip, back facing him on his couch, and the swales of silence between them, no distractions deterred Javi from reality. He could grudgingly blame the restlessness on any lame excuse, but a single flicker of shadow—maybe a branch or drifting leaves—sent shivers crawling down his skin. Ben constantly jolted awake. Maya would curl into herself, which deviated from her usual chin-high and shoulders held back.
Javi hated it.
He had tried not to think much about the dried blood he caught glimpses of through the windows, those dark splotches in the grass. But he also couldn’t stop remembering. His mind always found its way back to the last look on his parents’ faces—horrifically set in stone. Determined to die.
Javi hated it.
How could they let him go like that? How could they have any ounce of faith in him when he could barely hold himself together now?
A loud rattle from the window made Javi jump; Ben and Maya instantly sat up, ready to run—before they all realized that it was another tree branch, a trick of the wind. But Maya still had her eyes on the window as she adjusted her blankets, Ben left half of his sleeping bag unzipped, and Javi had to convince himself that he could breathe normally again.
Stay alive, stay together. Stay alive, stay together. Stay alive, stay together.
Javi covered his ears, eyes pinched shut. Sleep came and went dreamlessly.
—
Of course, survival came at a cost.
“Bad news,” Maya announced at dinner approximately two weeks later. (She made mac n’ cheese this time so no one would fight over it. Mainly Ben’s fault, obviously.) “We’re running out of drinkable water, and we need to start cutting down on tap usage.”
Ben tapped his fingers against the table. The sun had long melded into the horizon. “…So, what are you thinking?”
“Basically, we need to go get more water.” She pulled out a wrinkly, battered map and four markers. “I’m gonna draw out a plan, you guys give me ideas. Brown represents all three of us. Red is Javi, Ben’s yellow, and I’m blue—”
“Hold on, hold on. I don’t get what you’re thinking of, exactly?” Javi squinted at the map.
“I just said that we need more water.”
Javi froze. “You don’t mean leaving the house again…do you?” Ben stopped eating.
Maya shot both of them a look. “Well, if either of you has a genius idea on how we can hide here and magically conjure water out of nowhere, I’m all ears.” She twirled a marker between her fingers impatiently.
The two regarded her dumbly.
“That’s what I thought. Anyways—” she went back to drawing lines on the map— “Ben, we’ll need your horrendous driving skills.”
Javi burst out laughing. “Dude. I’ll say this in English—no—and Spanish—no.”
“Javi, we don’t know how cars work.”
Javi shook his head frantically. “Are you forgetting the last time Ben drove us somewhere? We almost crashed five times.”
Maya folded her arms, a blank expression on her face.
“Seriously? How do you not remember that?”
Ben coughed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Javi glared daggers in his direction.
“Back to this.” Maya pointed at the map and began drawing lines over the numerous, connected streets before circling a location. “Ben, I need you to drive us to this grocery store. It’ll take about seven minutes, give or take.” She sighed. “Please, don’t screw it up.”
—
Maya’s plan did not fully go as planned.
She was currently leaning over a line of bushes, breathing unevenly, and Javi was busy trying not to gag. But because the nearest grocery store just had to be a gathering ground (or nest, who knows) for shriekers,
“See, Javi?” Ben dangled the car keys in front of Javi’s face. “I got us here perfectly fine, didn’t I?” Javi scowled at him, who clearly had difficulty maintaining a straight face.
“Ben,” hissed Maya. “Hurry and set up the damn fireworks before I throw up on you.”
Ben scurried away as Javi and Maya grabbed their supplies from the car’s backseats. They each shouldered a backpack, Maya holding a third one for Ben, before silently heading for the store entrance.
Javi studied her face. He didn’t like the steel in her eyes or the harsh angle of her jaw—or what they were supposed to imply. Even if Maya had a “good plan,” one random misstep could end their lives, and Javi would be breaking both his promises. Maybe he just had to believe again. Just like Ben had said. Maybe things would work out like last time.
When they reached halfway through the parking lot, Maya gave him an encouraging nod, and they ducked behind an abandoned car to watch for any signs of Ben. A minute passed; Javi heard Maya swear under her breath.
He nudged her shoulder. “Something wrong?”
“Just—worried.” Javi gestured for her to go on. “If my plan doesn’t go well, Ben’s dead. When we stole the car, there weren’t nearly as many shriekers around. We would’ve had a few injuries at most. But now—” She frowned. “I’m fine. It just feels like a lot of pressure.”
“Really?” Javi raised an eyebrow. “I think you’ve been doing great as our leader. And so does Ben for sure.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, would we listen to you if we didn’t think you were a good leader?” Maya opened her mouth, then closed it. “You also ended our mac n’ cheese feud. So, respect.”
Javi was about to continue when the first fireworks went off. Ben ran towards them from behind the grocery store, waving his hands wildly, and they all sprinted for the grocery store entrance, prying viciously at the doors.
Javi glanced up; the roaring fireworks barely held a match to the shriekers’ fiery warcries—unbridled fury in a tempest of ashen feathers. Rust permeated the air. As they swarmed the noise, the shriekers’ beaks flashed a dark, livid red. Javi shuddered. He quickly shut the door behind him.
Once the shriekers had quieted, Maya gave Ben his backpack and then distributed the three lists they made of needed supplies. Javi warily eyed the disorganized shelves, isles of dry foods, mold-covered fruit, and the untouched items in the glass freezers. He shifted from foot to foot.
“Hold on,” he blurted—before Ben could take another step.
Ben turned around. “What’s up?”
Javi bit his tongue. He felt like he might pass out any minute. “Let’s move as a group first—so we know it’s really safe.” He hesitated. “Promise me neither of you will wander off.” Ben and Maya exchanged glances. “Swear it. Please.”
They swore, but it didn’t make Javi any less uneasy. He wordlessly followed behind them through the store aisles.
Stay alive, stay together.
—
Javi meticulously scanned the store signs; urgency fueled him to walk faster, move faster. Less than ten minutes remained before they should be heading back to the car, and they were more than halfway done combined with pilfering.
He set down two gallon containers of water and crossed off the last item on his list. “I have everything.”
Maya nodded vaguely in his direction. “I’m almost done. You can wait here while Ben and I finish up.” Javi watched as Maya shoved an excessive number of canned vegetables and boxed pasta into her bag. She would’ve probably stuffed another one in if time permitted.
“Okay,” Javi breathed. “Just—hurry.” He leaned against an empty row of the aisle he was in, sliding down to sit.
The sound of crinkling plastic and hectic footsteps echoed lightly through the store.
Javi closed his eyes. He saw the hordes that appeared on the first day—the oppressive, impending doom as people ran and dropped dead before they could even scream. When there were still news reports, Javi had seen the cities littered with corpses, some half-eaten, others picked apart until the bones jutted out.
“Javi, let’s go.” Maya rounded the end of the aisle with Ben behind her, each holding two gallon jugs of water and bags stuffed full.
Javi nodded, getting up. He rushed after Maya and Ben as they wound their way back through the maze of aisles and cluttered floors. Maya reached for the back entrance door, success in sight and relief flooding their tense shoulders—
—When Javi bumped into a nearby shelf. And it fell behind him with a sick, deafening clash.
Maya froze. Ben inhaled sharply.
Then a cry pierced the stale air.
Seconds later, Ben crashed to the floor, a dark mass of feathers violently latched onto his wrist. His face twisted in pain, and he furiously kicked at the thing, yelping when it clamped down harder. Maya shouted something in Javi’s direction.
But Javi couldn’t hear anything.
They were so close—so incredibly close—and Javi had ruined it. Defiled it with his own two hands—stop. Right now, he needed to help Ben—but what could he do? Would he even help? Or would the shrieker just kill him too? No, but he had to stay alive—
“Javi, move!” Maya swung a crowbar at the shrieker. When it fell to the ground, she cracked the hooked end across its face as it began to scream. Over and over again, the sound of metal against bone filled the air, even when the shrieker had already gone quiet. Until it sat crumpled and crimson at Maya’s feet. Javi averted his eyes. No one spoke, only breathing heavily; whatever relief they had before instantly dissipated.
“Let’s go—shit.” Ben’s long hair fell over his eyes as he got up, wincing, cradling his bloodied arm. “Before any more of them arrive.” Javi didn’t move. “Javi—Javi? Look at me.”
“…You’re hurt, Ben. It could’ve—” Javi rasped. “It could’ve killed you. And–and I couldn’t do anything to help you—I—” His knees went limp, and Ben grabbed him before he sank to the floor.
“Javi. Javi, I’m okay. It’s dead now, alright?” Ben wrapped an arm around him. “I’m breathing. I’m alive. We swore we wouldn’t separate, remember?”
“Guys—guys!” Maya pointed at the front of the store. “We have to go or else—”
Glass shattered.
Death poured through the store windows in crow-black feathers and hellish shrieks.
Maya and Ben scrambled past the backdoor, pulling Javi behind. One growl after another, the shriekers clawed at the exit from inside.
Javi glanced up at Maya again as she strained against the door—teeth grit as though she were in a fight, and at Ben biting his lip in a futile attempt to stay calm, drawing blood.
‘Promise us you’ll make it out alive, okay, Javi?’ His parents’ words were poison slipping past his throat. Ben was staring at him expectantly. Maya gestured for his help. Around him, the shriekers droned into a sharp ringing.
Stay alive, stay together. Stay alive, stay together. Stay alive, stay together.
Javi stumbled backward.
Stay alive, stay together. Stay alive, stay together. Stay alive, stay alive, stay alive, stay alive stay alive stay alive stay alive stay alive stay alive.
And then he ran.
He ran and ran and ran until the buildings he passed by all blurred together in a dizzying loop. He could still picture their faces, —forget them, just forget it all. His lungs burned, breath heaving, legs pedaling mechanically.
Javi did not ever look back.
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