All Ye Faithful – A Short Story

She was careful after twilight.

That’s when they began to emerge. You would hear them at night the moment the light of day began to fade. Vashti Blue knew that she had to keep moving, that she had the best chance of staying alive if she just put one foot in front of the other, no matter how tired she was. She would try to be like the smoke at the break of dawn, as if she had no true form.

The city was all smoke now, anyways. The glass that was left in the windows like a blinking eye in the night. You learned to stop, listen and watch. You learned to listen even closer sometimes, as if you could reach out to the room and sense of hearing and pull the noises from the room. Sometimes, you had to had to go first.

Yestin Harrow moved beside her in the darkness. He reached out and tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention, but Yestin knew by now that Vashti could hear him. The tap was unnecessary, it was just so he could touch her and let her know without words that he was safe. Any kind of noise could get you into trouble. You had to be sure of your surroundings, take in every scent and noise, each tick of the air.

You had to wait until you got to someplace that you could talk. It was just the way that things had to be. It was better that way. You had no way of knowing what awaited you anymore, what kind of building it would be. There was often no telling what there would be inside. You just had to be brave and tackle what came at you.

Well, Vashti was sick and tired of being brave. She was exhausted from struggling, walking past the need for sleep and so tired that, if she let herself, she could fall into the shadows and let them take her.

She would never do that.

Could never let her life be taken away from her. She had something to live for now; someone. It made life easier when she ever thought it could be. Vashti had been surviving on her own for so long, that at first, the presence of Yestin bothered her to no end. It was double edged. She knew she needed him to survive, and he needed her. It was ironic, really. When the shift had taken place, she had thought she needed a lover to survive what the world had become.

Instead, Vashti needed a brother. She had found that in Yestin.

Turing her head to look at him, she tapped his shoulder and pointed to a building in the distance. She could see smoke coming from an exhaust vent. Maybe that meant the building had some kind of heat source. They had been walking for days now and the days were cold, the nights colder still. Yestin nodded and motioned towards the broken road and eyed her with concern. Vashti had fallen the other day when they were trying to cross a roadway quickly to find shelter before it had grown dark. Dusk had been upon them and the light was fading and her sight had been poor, that’s what she was telling herself anyways.

Vashti nodded to show that she understood. Yestin was always worried about her, more so lately. She would be fine one day and the next, she could barely walk. She would have moments of deep fatigue, and they seemed to grow longer and longer each time she had them. Vashti had even begun to lose her balance. During those times, they had to find somewhere to hide as there was no way that she could take care of Yestin, let alone herself. Vashti had no idea what was wrong, but it was getting worse. If there was a time where you needed complete control over your body, it was when you were outrunning the horde, and it wasn’t like she could go see a doctor anyways.

He was always telling her to sit and rest, to relax as much as she could, as if the ability to relax was still an option to her anymore. Vashti had a lot to live for now what with taking care of Yestin. He was her world, and she had to look after him. He was all that mattered anymore.

They made their way over the cracked road, making sure to be careful when they came to the spots where the road had completely buckled and risen like angry teeth, reaching to the sky as if to greet it. They had to help each other over these parts and be careful no to fall into the black holes of nothingness that could hold all sorts of dangers.

As they made their way towards the building that let out steam as if it were a smoke signal, Vashti tried to send her hearing ahead of them so that she could take in every noise. She could hear the wind and what sounded like someone screaming in the distance. She could have told them to remain silent. Sound was what drew them. Vashti knew that it was impossible to make no sound, but they tried as much as possible to remain silent until they were safe.

They were nearer to the building now and Vashti could see into the interior through one of the windows which had shed its glass like tears spilled onto the pavement. There didn’t appear to be any movement coming from inside, but appearances could be deceiving. There was a door that stood partially open, and she wondered if the building had been ransacked already. She didn’t care. If it provided shelter for the night, that was all that mattered.

In the distance she could hear another scream and what sounded like Christmas music. It sounded like the system, which had obviously been playing since the outbreak three years ago, was now failing. Oh Come All Ye Faithful sounded like a death march and Vashi thought that appropriate for what the world had become. She took a look around them and everything looked okay, none of the horde had been drawn towards the sound.

She had not forgotten what day it was. How ironic that there was Christmas music playing, even if it did sound like it was dying. Pushing thoughts of the past aside, she pulled open the door quickly and both her and Yestin stepped inside the darkness and closing the door behind them. It had a small lock, and she pushed it into place. It wouldn’t stop one of the hordes, but the fact that she had some control over the situation made her feel better.

She reached out and held on to Yestin’s arm, stopping him from moving forwards. Vashti listened to see if she could hear any other noises but could hear nothing except the dying Christmas carol. She tapped his arm and pointed forward. There was a door in front of them and she waited for her eyes to adjust in the shadows. It was a large door and looked as if it were made of wood. She put her right ear to the door and tried to listen for anything that could be on the other side, but there wasn’t any sound to be heard. Gently, she tried to doorknob and met no resistance.

Looking around, Vashti immediately saw a large cabinet that miraculously stood whole and unbroken against a back wall, though it was empty of all dishes. It had been a deep hunter green at one point, but she could see the wood more than the paint now. She motioned to Yestin, and they lifted the cabinet and moved it against the door that they had come through.

They stood motionless for a moment, waiting to hear any other sounds that would mean trouble. Vashti let Yestin handle this one. He may have been deaf, but after travelling with him for so long, she swore the man was part spider. Yestin had trouble telling what was out there from far away, but he could sense anyone and anything in all the spaces close to him.

She pointed around them and gave him a thumbs up. Vashti needn’t have bothered. Yestin did what he always did when they entered a new space. He closed his eyes, just for a moment and listened to the vibrations of the room. It was the only way that she could explain what he did. Vashti had watched him pull out a gun and let a bullet fly into an enemy that she hadn’t even known was there to begin with. He was uncanny in that way.

When Yestin opened his eyes and nodded, Vashti knew that they were safe. It happened occasionally, but not too often. They took these breaks to stop and rest when they could. They had no way of knowing when the next Zwink would show up. That was the name that they had been given. It was slightly ironic, given what the name meant, but that’s often how these things happened. Often people gave stupid names to things that they feared because they didn’t understand them. At least, that had been the truth. Now there was only fear.

Letting out a sigh of relief, the first thing that Vashti did was to cross the floor and hug her friend. Her brother, really. It didn’t matter that they had not shared the same womb, when they had chosen each other, they had become a family. It was as simple as that. She didn’t want to remember the time that she travelled on her own. It was better to think of the time since they had been together. It was easier that way.

She kept the embrace short, knowing that he could read her lips. “I love you,” she said. It was the first thing she always said to Yestin. He drew the outline of a heart with the pointer finger of his right hand in her right palm.

It was when she was moving away from the embrace that she heard Yestin let out a little gasp. He pointed at the floor where the cabinet had been. It had been covering a trapdoor, the loop to pull the door open gaping at them like a wide-open mouth. The trapdoor was made of the same green painted wood as the cabinet but looked almost newer because of the fact that it had been hidden. Vasti motioned at the door and shrugged her shoulders. Yestin knew what she meant and nodded. They had no way of knowing what was below, but they had to look everywhere, regardless of what they found. If there was anything that the trap door contained that would help their situation, they had to take it. Vashti’s first thought was that maybe the door was hiding a compartment of guns and ammunition. Ultimately, she hoped that the trapdoor hid something they could use like food or other necessities.

When she pulled the trapdoor back however, it was to find a ladder leading to downward. A light shone from the underground, welcoming them with its warmth. Vashti turned back to look at Yestin and he shrugged. She nodded and stepped onto the ladder, carefully going below. The ladder went a fair way down. She felt the vibrations on the ladder that meant that Yestin had begun his climb, and she heard him closing the trapdoor above them. While was a little frightened, she tried to listen into the room below and heard nothing. She kept going and when her foot his ground, she let go of the ladder. Yestin joined her and they looked around at the rooms they stood in. Yestin’s face was a mask of shock as she knew hers must also be.

“Let’s check this place out.” Vashti’s could hear the shock and disbelief in her voice.  They were in what looked like a hotel room. There was a torn-up couch armchair and table, all made with the same tacky fake wood rain that was peeling off the wooden frames. It looked as if the wood underneath the wood were somehow bleeding through. To their left, there was a dilapidated bed, but it didn’t look moth eaten and wasn’t covered in mold. A television stood in the corner. She walked around the room and pulled back a ratty looking curtain, but she wasn’t surprised to find that there were just bricks.

Turning to Yestin, she saw his face and read wonder there, not concern as she had been expecting. *It’s a bunker,* he signed. The joy on his face mirrored hers. *Whoever stayed here must have left for some reason.*

Vashti didn’t want to think about the person who had lived here. She wanted to think about the fact that they were here now and, luck holding, they could get a rest. Going around the rest of the room, she found a door that led to what Vashti assumed was a mirage: a perfectly clean, spotless bathroom, complete with shower, sink and bathtub. “Am I dreaming?” she said.

*If you are, I am, too.* Yestin signed, a grin spreading on his face.

Rather than let out a shout of joy as that kind of reaction to anything could get them both killed, each of them took a deep breath and let it go. It was the first deep breath that Vashti could remember taking in over a year. You didn’t have time to breathe deeply when you were constantly on the move.

They went looking to see what else the bunker had for them.  There was a small fridge that remarkably still worked. Inside, they found bottles of beer and one bottle of white wine and some bottles of water. Vashti was partial to red wine, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. In the cupboards that filled one wall, they found unopened cans of chicken noodle soup, pasta, beans, a box of crackers, Velveeta cheese and mini cocktail sausages. Not the healthiest shit to eat, but Vashti and Yestin couldn’t remember when they had seen such a bounty. They hadn’t had a full meal for months now, only able to grab scraps of food when they could find them. There was a small hotplate that remarkably still worked. It was hard to believe that there was electricity down here when the world above had shut down so long ago. There were even a handful of utensils in one of the drawers: a fork, two spoons, several butter knives and even a spatula. Everything looked so fucking normal, tucked into a utensil holder.

In a small dresser, they found generic clothing: t-shirts in dark colours and pairs of jeans. There were even pairs of clean underwear. Below, she saw three pairs of sneakers, all of them worn but in far better condition than their own footwear which had begun to fall apart. She chucked off her shoes and took a pair, slipping her feet into them to see if they fit. Yestin was doing the same thing beside her had chosen a pair of his own.  Vashti felt badly, but only for a moment. In the world such as it was, you learned to take whatever you could and not think about who it belonged to before. She had once taken a gun and a knife from someone that she had killed. It hadn’t been personal; it had stopped being personal a long time ago. It was simply about survival.

The washroom still had working water. Vashti let the tears fall where they may when she saw the running water. She didn’t know when she had last been able to clean herself. She had no idea how badly she smelled anymore, and it didn’t matter anyways. The whole world smelled of smoke, burnt cinders, blood and the rot of leaves. They looked around the washroom for soap and found a box full of hotel soaps, shampoos and conditioners. Vashti nearly wept out loud. She tried to stop herself, but even still let out a sob. Looking up at Yestin, she saw unshed tears in his eyes.

“Gods bless the person that was here.”

*Amen*

They took turns using the shower and getting dressed in the clothes they found that would fit. They pulled on their new shoes, too. In this world, you learned to wear your footwear at all times and sleep with your possessions. You could grab some rest, grab a few minutes every now and again, but you had to be ready to go at any moment.

Vashti thought about leaving behind her old clothes, but she stuffed them in her backpack. You would never know when you would need another change of clothes or spare cloth to staunch a wound. She took a ball cap from the top of the dresser and put it on Yestin’s head. He let out a snort and placed the hat on her own head, making sure it was snug.

They grabbed a couple of waters from the fridge and the box of crackers and the cocktail sausages. The whole thing felt surreal to Vashti, and she wondered when she was going to wake up.

They sat on the bed which held their weight. Vashti hadn’t noticed how gaunt Yestin looked. When you were on the go, you didn’t have time to stop and really see the person you were with. He looked tired. There were bags under his eyes that told of the nights where they didn’t sleep and had to fight. He was looking thin, too. She would let him eat everything here if he would let her. She needed to make sure that he could continue if only so that she could. He was her whole world in the mess that surrounded them.

Yestin took a sip of water and looked at her. Vashti knew better than to shrink away from his gaze. It was how he knew that he could trust her. Not many people would look Yestin in the eyes because of what he was. They feared him for it. He tilted his head to the right. *You okay?* The question held so many questions: How is your balance? How are you feeling? Has it gotten worse?

She didn’t want to talk about that now. It was Christmas. There would be time for all of that shit later. “Fuck, I’m just exhausted. I’m kind of shellshocked, to be honest.”

*Yeah* he signed. *I know what you mean. This is like a paradise. I even remember a hotel room that my family and I stayed in once when we were away on a trip.*

“Do you remember where you were going?”

Yestin was deep in thought for a moment, as if he were listening to something he remembered in his own memories. *We were at Walt Disney World, watching television on the hotel room couch. My father was freaking out. Didn’t understand why my mom would want to take me to the park. Said that it was no good if I couldn’t fucking hear. She was telling him that I deserved to have every childhood experience I could, that I wasn’t the idiot that he made me out to be. I suppose they didn’t think I knew they were arguing, but I knew they were.*

Vashti nodded. She had seen how Yestin could hear the tone in people’s voices changed because of the vibrations that a voice put out into the air. Vashti took another sip of water wondering what it was like to understand people so well but never being able to hear them.

They were quiet for a moment, each of them finishing off their bottle of water. He tucked one bottle each in their bags. You didn’t leave waste in this world if you could help it and you never knew when a bottle would come in handy. Vashti got off the bed and grabbed a box of crackers and the can of cocktail sausages. She looked briefly around for a can opener before realizing that it was a pull top.

She grabbed two of the bottles of beer and brought those back to the bed, too. She dug into the crackers. She wanted to start off with something small before trying anything else. She didn’t know if her stomach would be able to take it. While she munched on the stale crackers, she could feel words trying to press against her lips. Yestin and she didn’t talk very often. They didn’t need to, nor was there an occasion to very often.

Still, she had never spoken these words out loud, had never felt she needed to. Still, they wanted to be free tonight. Vashti opened her mouth and let the words free before the letters could dig into the skin inside her mouth, damaging the walls of her cheeks with the sharp end of a “C” or the forked shape of a “W”.  Her words rushed out of her, so eager to feel the air.

“Where were you when your world changed?”

The words came out softer than she intended, as if she were whispering a secret. It didn’t matter to Yestin. He began signing his reply and it looked to Vashti as if he were conducting music without the aid of a conductor’s wand. She followed the movement of his hands and face and read his body language. She didn’t know why others thought the deaf didn’t speak. Often, Yestin was far more expressive than anyone she knew could speak.

*It’s actually kind of funny in an ironic sort of way,* he began. *I had just came out to my parents. I told them that I was gay. I didn’t think it would go over so badly. My mother started right away by telling me that she loved me, no matter what, but that it would be a rough path. There were so many in our world that didn’t understand what being gay was, let alone someone who was both deaf and gay. She told me it would be a battle, that I was her everything and that she would gladly fight beside me. I just didn’t expect the battle to begin at home.*

Yestin let out a rough sigh that sounded more like a sob. Vashti let Yestin gather himself before he continued. She knew that he was about to trust her with something that was difficult for him to process even now. She had to be patient; it was his story to tell, after all.

He took a deep breath and continued. *It was Christmas Eve, just like today.*

Vashti nodded. He had known what today was, too.

*My father started yelling at me. I’d never seen him so angry. The floor seemed to shake; his voice was so loud. He said it was bad enough that he had a cripple for a son, now he had a faggot, too. My mother tried talking above him, telling him that was no way to refer to me, and he slapped her. Even I could hear the silence in the room. He had never hit my mother in front of me before, even though I still knew he hit her behind closed doors. I remember him coming for me, grabbing me throat and lifting me off the ground. He was filled with a bright rage and he yelled so loudly that I could see his words shape themselves in the air. The world in front of me was becoming fuzzy, like when you used to change a dead channel? They were filled with black and white snow.*

She wasn’t sure what she should say at this point, of indeed if anything needed to be said. Nothing she could say would take away the pain because it was in the past. Yestin carried that pain with him and Vashti had come to understand that this pain was part of him now and had woven itself into his genetic code and he had survived because of this.

*My father had always hit me, but that night, something snapped. He hurt me just like he hurt my mother and made sure to hurt both of us away from prying eyes. My mother and I suffered alone, each knowing that the other was being hurt. She would fuss over my bruises and cuts, make sure that they were cleaned, but we never spoke about it. We shared our pain, but each of us was on their own island.*

Vashti didn’t dare speak or ask a question. They had been travelling together for three years and this was the most he had ever said about himself. She knew that what he had lived through had been horrific and that what she was being told was just like a drop of water, one memory caught in time. She honoured the telling of it by remaining silent.

*My father wavered, just for a second and I could see the anger at himself for his loss of control run over his face. For that moment, he looked normal, not the monster I . The newscast came on television, and I could see the air around the speaker coming out in waves and I knew that the volume was turned up loud. My father dropped me to the floor, and we all sat looking at the screen. On the television were these things that were crawling out of the dirt, breaking open the concrete, and when the sun hit their skin, they were blinding. It was almost impossible to look at one head on, but the dirt and grime that covered their skin made it possible.*

Vashti nodded, knowing too well what they looked like. They always came from below, erupting from the ground faster than any human had a right to. If you were lucky, they would try to come through the concrete or wood; this would buy you time, a minute if you were lucky, or mere seconds. It didn’t matter how much time you had; you had to take it for the gift that it was.

If you were unlucky enough for one to find you near a patch of grass, you better be good with your gun. Shivering, Yestin looked at Vashti and she could see the fear, present even now. This was good. The moment you stopped being afraid, you were done.  

*We watched these human shaped meat puppets lumber across the screen. The newscaster said something quickly, then laughed. The air in front of the television speaker made sharp little spikes that looked like teeth. That’s how I knew that he was laughing. ‘They look like fucking twinks at a rave’, he said. ‘No, that’s not quite right. Like zombie twinks!* he let out another squeal of laughter. *Zwinks!* His eyes were bright with his own mirth.*

Yestin’s hands were flying. Vashti marvelled at the ability to speak this way. To her, it looked like dancing, as if Yestin were following some sort of unwritten music. It always made her think that Yestin was trying to fly. She knew the newscaster that he was talking about. Though the anchorman would become the face of the zwinks and go viral, by the end of the week, there were precious few people worried about what was on the television and the anchorman was dead.

*My father had turned to look at me on the floor. He really saw me for the first time and there horror slashed across his face where a few seconds before it had been an embarrassed rage. He always could do the dramatics well and wore so many different masks. ‘They’re like you,’ he yelled at me in shock. ‘They’re like you.’ For once, my father was showing me the fear he kept inside every time he looked at me. It was finally able to be free.*

His hands fell silent. She didn’t need to tell Yestin that his face was covered in tears. He wiped them away and got up off the bed and grabbed the can of beans and the can of chicken noodle soup. He held them both up and shrugged his shoulders. She pointed to the can of soup, and he nodded. Rummaging around in the drawer, he pulled out a fork and a spoon. He held out the spoon.

Vashti shook her head. “I can just drink mine,” she said.

He nodded rummaged around in the drawer and held up a can opener. He looked at this odd thing that used to be so commonplace. Yestin’s eyes were filled with wonder and perhaps a sorrow for what they had let go of. He removed the lid and set the can opener aside. Grabbing his fork, he started shoveling in the beans. Vashti pulled the tab on her own can and drank the salty soup stalk before digging out the noodles, vegetables and chicken with her fingers. They ate without speaking for a moment, lost in the enjoyment of having something in their stomachs more than a piece of bread or a random bit of food that they came by.

When they were done, they washed off in the bathroom sink dried themselves off on the towels they found in the bathroom cupboard. When Yestin’s back was turned, she reached into her coat and withdrew a small parcel. She should not have been surprised to see that Yestin was holding his own wrapped package.

He gave her a look of exasperation. *Like I’d forget that it’s Christmas Eve,* he said. *I’ve counted all the days since it all started.*

Blushing, Vashti realized that she had not kept the shock off face. She took the parcel that he held out to her, and she handed Yestin his. He pulled off the paper to reveal a small hardcover of Little Women, it’s cover a faded red fabric with black words stamped on it’s spine. Vashti had found it a few months ago. They had been wandering through an old library. Most of the books had been ripped to shreds or they were covered in blood. It seemed like it was some kind of miracle when she had seen the book, laying alone in the shadows of a shelf. She had grabbed it and slipped it into her coat pocket, not caring what it was, knowing that it would be a gift for him.

Yestin looked up at her, his face happier than she had ever seen it. He put his right to his chin and brought it out to her. *Thank you*

She held her right hand at her chin and brought it down to her chest, curving it in the air. *You’re welcome.*

Looking down at her own parcel, Vashti slipped off the plastic bag that Yestin had used. He had tied the bag in a knot to keep what was inside safe. She unwrapped a small compass. It was old and tarnished and there were a few scuffs on the edges, but it had been cared for. There was an engraving on the back of it. It looked like the initials W. and L. had been rubbed to the point where they almost weren’t there at all.

*It’s so you can always find your way,* Yestin said.

Before Vashti had a chance to respond, the sound of the trapdoor opening filled the silence. A mans legs came into view and then a very scruffy pissed off man was staring at the two of them with shock.

“And who the fuck might you be?” he said.