Sometimes, he wondered how his life would be different if their mother had stayed.
She wasn’t their mother anymore, not really. Maybe physical as well as mental. He was never really sure whether she’d gotten bitten or eaten yet.
Jemmy knew that Lora got scared. He’d heard their mother--Hara, he reminded himself--say anxiety and panic. Lora would start shaking and take quick, heaving breaths and sometimes tears would wind their way down her face like a tiny river. It took her a while to stop. Those episodes used to be rare, but now that Hara was gone… He couldn’t do much about it except wait it out with her and provide comfort when she needed it.
When Hara left them behind, she gave one last gift to them: a little shotgun, the smallest in her collection, short and black and just the right size to stuff in his cargo pants’ pocket. He learned how to shoot it when the first half-dead zombie began ambling toward them. He was somewhat of a decent shot; on a good day, when Hara was clear-eyed and smiled more, she took him hunting. Now, when they needed food he could usually shoot down a bird or squirrel high up in the trees. Too often, people in the streets couldn’t get much food. He’d seen a man eating something with long, white bone about the size of his arm. The man had a yellowish tinge to his eyes and a cruel smile that drove him far, far away. He slept with one hand curled around the gun after that.
“Jemmy.”
Lora was pointing at a bird rising in the sky, her small hand trembling ever so slightly, and he took aim and shot, scraping its wing. It began twirling down, then plummeting, then hit the earth so hard that soil rose up in a small cloud. They trudged over to the bird, and he placed it inside his bag so that Lora wouldn’t complain about the extra weight or smell.
He didn’t blame her for complaining. She was eight to his ten and spent most of her time focusing on taking deep, even breaths.
He could hear her counting out the seconds now, small and whooshy and quiet just like he’d told her to be. He let the soothing cadence dictate their steps, and they walked along, staying within the shadows of the crumbling buildings lining the dusted streets.
“One. Two. Three.”
…
“Sir, ready for launch.”
“Preparing for launch in T-minus fifteen seconds.”
“Fifteen. Fourteen. Thirteen.”
…
Whenever he or Lora saw a zombie walking the streets, they would run--fast, but quiet. If a zombie so much as looked at you, you had to keep running until they found better prey, fell apart, or caught up to you. He’d seen the third option too many times, and it was never pretty.
Jemmy was lucky he and Lora were small and slight. Hara had encouraged their running a long time ago, tried putting them on a team. He’d argued against it. He knew that she would spend more time with her hand curled around a bottle then picking them up at practice or watching their races. But he still regretted that stubbornness. Lora could only run so long before she started counting again.
They came across an abandoned shop, the sidewalk around it littered with broken glass and bits of cardboard. He pulled Lora into the darkness beyond the doorframe and picked his way to the back of the store, crouching within some empty cabinets with Lora. He’d gotten better at finding hiding spaces, but he hated the responsibility that came with it. The terror. The thought of having to fight your way out of it but not being able to.
He never let Lora see it. The day she realized that this was reality and not a long, ever-growing nightmare was the day he died.
He pulled her closer to him and waited for her to fall asleep, struggling to stay awake.
…
“Ten. Nine. Eight.”
…
Jemmy heard screaming.
He was out of their hiding place in an instant, dragging Lora from the cabinets and hurtling for the front of the store, dodging shattered windows or fallen shelves. Men and women trickled past him in terrified streams, and some zombies chased after them like sharks after a school of fish.
He and Lora picked up the pace, walking with the stream, and he asked a man what was the matter and why everyone was heading towards the long-abandoned center of the city. “Missile,” the man panted. He kept running.
He was frozen for a second. Before the epidemic started, he’d been in year five. His teacher had lectured them about Kennedy and Cuba and a nation that slept with one eye open.
One second, he was standing in front of the store, squeezing Lora’s hand so tight she was whining. The next, he was sprinting down the street, Lora a few steps behind him, clutching the pistol in his hand.
He knew they wouldn’t make it. When he looked up at the sky, it was painted red and grey, and the smell of death swam through the air. The screams sharpened around him. The zombies’ moans wended their way through the haze like a low bass in a symphony.
He stopped. Pulled Lora into a dark doorway and huddled with her, trying to drown out the noise. “Lora,” he said, slowly, calmly. “I want you to count to ten.”
“Why?”
“Remember those games we used to play? Hide and seek? Count to ten, and I’ll hide. It’s a game, Lora.” His voice broke, but he gripped her hand tight.
“Alright. One. Two. Three.”
Jemmy hugged Lora tight, squeezed his eyes shut and listened.
…
“Three. Two. One.”
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125,027 Literary Works • 672,774 Reviews
Hey since I liked your last story so much, I decided to read more of yours 😊
Ah, alright, zombie apocalypse time.
Sounds like the MC doesn’t quite know yet what happened to her—just that she left and didn’t come back. Makes me wonder if it was bc she didn’t want to lug a bunch of kids around or if she left to find supplies and simply never returned. I’m leaning toward the latter since MC is wondering is she’s dead or dead dead now.
Uhm is it really essential that we know his mom is called “Hara”? I know it’s a character moment that he reminds himself of her name, but the way you introduce it in this sentence kinda makes the entire thing harder to read and parse.
I like that he sticks with his sister and doesn’t seem to blame her for her anxiety and panic attacks.
What do you mean by “half-dead zombie”? I know what it means when a human looks half-dead, but for a zombie? I don’t know if that descriptor is actually saying anything.
Oha I wonder what the section of italics about the impeding launch mean for the story. Usually I’d think about a spaceship launch but … something tells me it might be a nuke?
I like the idea that running away from zombies also means waiting for them to literally fall apart. I also like this character consistency: “Lora could only run so long before she started counting again.“
And oh wow, Hara used to be a drunkard. Hmm now her being described as sometimes “clear-eyed” makes even more sense. And kinda throws the reason for why she left into question again! Keeps me engaged for sure 😊
This strikes me as an odd thought for a 10 yrs old to have: “he hated the responsibility that came with it.” Like… I feel like he would express the same sentiment in a different, less poignant way?
Oha, missile not nuke but at least I got close. I wonder how these people realized the missile was coming?
Hmmm I’m not too familiar with foreign school systems. If Jemmy is 10 now and the zombie apocalypse began in his school year 5… then the apocalypse hasn’t been happening for v long. You are 10 when you are in year 5 right?
Aww what a sad ending to a sad story.
I also think that the 2 year difference between this story and the other one I read really shows. I feel some of the sentences are a bit weak and that you have spent words and time on information that is ultimately not really necessary to get the point and theme and emotional impact across
Hi, erilea.
This was really gripping to read, and it had me on the edge of my seat the whole time. I was desperately wishing for the two characters to be able to live to see the apocalypse end, though I knew that was only wishful thinking (that ending was just plain upsetting!).
Although the premise of an apocalypse/epidemic is in no way unique, you managed to pull it off. I do wish there was more background as how it came to be, but since this is through the eyes of a ten-year-old, I wouldn't expect Jemmy to know. Speaking of age, I know this was already touched upon, but I do believe that he seems really mature for his age. Of course the apocalyptic setting would have him mature quickly, but it's a bit too strange.
I just had to mention that this paragraph was absolutely stunning. This painted perfectly the impending doom and despair that surrounded Jemmy. Really, really well done.
This was beautifully written from start to finish. I dont really have much to say besides praise. Kudos!
-Etteim
Thank you so much!
Heyo erilea! I hope you’re having a lovely day.
I’m just going to get right into the review.
As far as we know, she just left, right? Even Jemmy doesn’t know whether she’s been “bitten or eaten yet”. So why is she not their mother anymore just because she left them? Maybe you could say that she wasn’t acting like their mother even before she left them.
I don’t know much about guns, but I thought shotguns were long and could not possibly fit into pockets? Maybe more like a handgun is appropriate. (Again, I don’t know much about these things and it’s your world, so whatever works right in your story!) Also, you mention the zombie ambling, which is a very slow and non-threatening verb to use, so it’s a really tiny thing but I think something more like “launched itself towards them” would have more of an impact.
This seems sort of weird? Maybe you could say something more like “eating some strange meat—when he finished, he cast away a long, white bone...” because the bone certainly seems long and menacing, but doesn’t really tell us much about what he was eating.
Woah, that is very young. He really seems quite mature for supposedly ten? I think even twelve would make more sense, though it seems a little far out that they survived for this long with one gun and running away. By the way, do we know how long it has been?
The first sentence has a bit of a weird structure, so maybe you could play with that. Also, (sorry, another remark on their ages!) would kids younger than eight or ten really have running teams? I never saw that coming into play until around middle school, or 12-13 ish. And is Lora really not able to run for long because of he anxiety? I’d think she would get tired sooner than the anxiety would set in, but maybe you could expand on her character a little more so it’s clear.
Maybe say died inside? Unless he actually died, but at the moment it’s just a little unclear.
Other than some really specific stuff, this is very good! You have some nice phrasing in their and can pack a lot of worldbuilding into a very short period of time. The parallel of the numbers is nice, and if the ending is what I think it is... wow.
One thing that I think you could do a little better is characterizing the two kids. I know that it’s short, so you don’t have a lot of time to add unimportant details, but I’d like to see some more scenes from their childhood, ones that don’t just show the origin of her counting or his gun, but their relationship to each other. We are told that Hara is not herself, but I would love to see Jemmy’s memory of that, if he still thinks of her. Just some little scenes of normalacy so that we can see that this is not normal and that Jemmy’s decision is hard for him (presumably).
Overall, you did a really good job! It’s got a good structure and plot, and reads pretty smoothly right along. It’s got some great imagery as well!
-Q
1) I did my best to imply that Hara was an alcoholic, so she didn't take care of the kids much which would make them say she wasn't really their mother. I guess I need to make that clearer.
2) Oops, meant to say pistol.
3) In my elementary school, we did kind of have running teams. Maybe it's not a thing where you're from.
Thanks for the review!
1) I did my best to imply that Hara was an alcoholic, so she didn't take care of the kids much which would make them say she wasn't really their mother. I guess I need to make that clearer.
2) Oops, meant to say pistol.
3) In my elementary school, we did kind of have running teams. Maybe it's not a thing where you're from.
Thanks for the review!
Beautiful.
Well written. You set the stage, and introduced the characters with graceful efficiency. I love the way the counting connects the end to the beginning and your use of words, but I especially love the ending. The sense of impending doom, the count down, Wow. Like I said, simply beautiful.
Great writing,
Keep it up!
Thank you so much!
Hello! I just read through this and couldn't believe this was it! It was really well written - and I was hoping there was more! I was really impressed how much I was able to get out of the characters in such a short amount of time. I really enjoyed this, and look forward to more works by you!
Thank you for the praise!
Good story! You wrote it well and the storyline or plot, whichever you want to call it, is really good! I like the ending as well. I have read quite a bit of your work, and you definitely have talent. I love the work you put into these stories, and that work is often very clear. Have you ever thought about writing a book? I think you would do very well at it. Looking forward to more work from you!
Thanks!