“Cardinal?”
Hannah sat on the bed by the headboard, waiting, clutching one of your pillows to her belly. I felt like someone had taken an entire universe and stuffed it down inside my chest. It was straining against my ribs and pressing down on my heart.
“My mom and dad had been fighting.” My voice sounded strange in my ears, as if it were coming from somewhere else in the room. “The night of the fifteenth. I guess Dad got sick of it ’cause the next morning he left early. I hadn’t slept at all, so I heard the door slam when he walked out. I didn’t see him again until that night. He must have gone to the park at some point, because by the time he got home, he was already infected.”
I closed my eyes and saw him as he was when I ran downstairs behind Mom. He was standing in the kitchen with his back to the stove. His eyes were red and glassy and he was covered in sweat. When he saw us, he started raving in a voice I barely recognized as his.
“Mom tried to calm him down, but he didn’t understand what was going on. He took the carving knife out of the block to keep her away from him. That’s when Tennant got home. He grabbed me and we ran outside. Things were already happening by then. Sirens. People running in the streets. Fires. Tennant told me to stay where I was, and then he ran back inside to get Mom.”
Hannah shifted on the bed behind me. I was there, with her, but at the same time I could feel that night on my skin. I could smell it. I could see you running toward the open front door and the way the light in the hall made the hardwood floor glow this molten brown.
“I heard them arguing, and then something glass broke and Mom screamed and Tennant kind of stumbled back into the doorway. He had one hand on the wall behind him and the other pressed into his stomach, like he’d just been laughing or something. And then he fell back against the wall and slid down, and his hand fell away and . . .”
There was so much blood. Throbbing red in the porch lights. There were streaks of it against the wall behind you and a growing pool on the floor.
“Dad still had the knife in his hand when he came out onto the porch. He and Tennant gave each other the weirdest look, like they were strangers, and then Dad ran off down the street. Mom and I got to Tennant at the same time. He was so pale. It got really quiet, and then there was this sound of wind chimes coming from one of our neighbors’ yards. Tennant looked up at me and he whispered, We weren’t supposed to be here, before he closed his eyes.”
There was a long silence. My throat ached and my mouth was dry. I started restacking the Brotherhood comics.
“I don’t really remember much else about that night. I guess Mom must have gone for help, and that’s when she got infected. The next thing I knew, it was a day or two later. I was in Monument Park and they were gone.”
The sheets rustled as Hannah moved to the foot of the bed and laid down on her stomach.
“That wasn’t your dad,” she said. “He didn’t know what was happening to him. He was scared.”
“Everybody was scared.”
I lowered the comics into the bin and snapped the lid shut.
“What happened to him?”
“I heard the police caught up with him a few days later,” I said. “He’d ended up with some other guys and they all . . . they’re in prison somewhere outside Black River.”
“You haven’t tried to . . .”
I shook my head. Hannah touched my shoulder. It was gentle at first, tentative, but then her fingers tensed, pressing into my skin. The place where we touched bloomed with heat.
“Hannah . . .”
She wrapped her arms around me from behind and her forehead fell onto my shoulder. She was only there a second though before I felt her stiffen and start to move away. I reached up and grabbed her hand.
“Wait.”
“Card, we can’t be—”
“Don’t go,” I said. “Please.”
“It’s not safe. We—”
I pulled my mask down and kissed her. Hannah’s lips parted with a gasp. I tore off my gloves and took her face in my hands. Her skin was warm and soft.
“Card,” she breathed.
“It’s all right,” I said. “It’s done.”
I kissed her again, and this time she didn’t back away, so I took her by her shoulders and slid her off the bed and into my lap. Her fingertips dug into my back, and mine tangled in her hair. Tremors moved between us, and soon it was hard to tell whether they had started in her chest or mine. Time slipped away. No past, no future, only that moment, right then, with her.
Sometime later we leaned back from each other to catch our breath. She brushed the back of her hand against my cheek.
“How long until . . .”
“Eight hours,” I said. “Maybe ten. A little after dawn tomorrow, I guess.”