Chapter 3

The only sound in the car was the squeaking of the windshield wipers. I wiped my hands, which were still damp from grabbing Grace's drenched ponytail, on my jeans.

The streets were empty. Abandoned vehicles littered the open roads.

I heard the panting of my rapid breathing as I made a tight turn to get onto the highway. It disturbed me that I didn't hear Grace's breathing. She was silent in the back seat and strangely calm.

I didn't call out her name. I was too scared she would open her eyes, and they would glow as my mother's had.

Instead, I turned on the radio. FM 105.3. It was my favorite music station. There was nothing there but static. I set it to the news. The sound of reassuring human voices filled the car.

"Our hearts go to the regions affected by the disaster. Please stay safe," a distant man's voice came from the speakers. "Here in Miami Beach, we are experiencing high winds and cloudy skies."

Oh, lucky them, I thought to myself. If only I could punch him through the radio.

"James," an annoying female voice said. "Do you think the disaster could have been prevented? We knew there was a collection of Black Waters off the shores of Pleasant Lane Beach. The satellites spotted a week ago. Through evaporation, it contaminated the air, and now it's falling from the sky as rain."

Black Waters was what they called the Blight Rain once it collected in a nasty puddle on the ground. We have been fortunate enough, up until now, in Windflower that all the rain had evaporated once the sun came out. I was vaguely aware of the existence of terrifying places in the world, where rivers ran thick with that poisonous substance all the time.

It used to be called Black Waters because when it was first described, it was in an underground lake that was never exposed to the sunlight. People soon discovered that this enchanted liquid could be used to make medicines and dietary supplements. It was even called "Mana" or "Life's Blood" for a while. Manna City used to have another name before they changed it to reflect the rich people's love of the magical black gold. Now, ever since it turned against us, everyone stopped calling it Mana. There were all sorts of names for it now. Black Waters was the word that the talking-heads used the most recently.

"Now, now, don't be hasty, Alice," the man said with a laugh. "There's no proof that Black Waters create this contaminated rain. Sometimes, people do weird things when it gets dark outside. Are you going to lecture me about seasonal affective disorder too? Next thing you know, people will say that plastic straws are responsible for people being sad in the winter."

I sighed and shut the radio off. I couldn't stand it anymore. Stupid talking heads telling us what we saw with our own eyes wasn't true. Maybe my mother didn't bite me, I thought sarcastically. Perhaps she was trying to kiss me with her teeth. I hoped a vampire bit James' head off.

"You should turn the news back on," Grace whispered hoarsely from the back seat. I hoped it was just a cold that she was coming down with. "It will tell us if the police blocked the roads off."

I nodded. My sister had a point. I turned the radio back on, and the annoying voices filled the car again.

"Now Alice," James continued. "If the Black Waters are coming for us, tell me why Manna City way up north is completely unaffected? They're a goddamn island!"

Oh, that's an easy one. It's because they are a walled city with air purification machines so all the rich people can go to their charity galas in peace. Even a poverty-level child like me knew that.

I turned the radio down. It didn't matter if the roads were blocked off up ahead. A section of the highway was completely flooded. There was no getting out of Windflower Springs tonight.

*

I drove back the way we came. I didn't know what to do except to head for the hospital. I barely got off the highway exit when I saw a line of cars waiting to do the same. The hospital was over two miles away, and the street was filled with cars, barely forming a line, fighting to move ahead.

The rain was coming down harder, flooding the streets.

I couldn't even see the markings dividing the traffic lanes. The ferocious wind blew the waters into angry waves. It was like driving through a river.

Looking out my rearview mirror, I saw the water rippling in the light of the street lamps. It was like we weren't on a street at all but at a ghostly, unnatural beach. Grace's formerly quiet breathing was becoming more and more labored. I didn't like how it sounded like she was panting.

It was almost like she was hungry.

In my rearview mirror, I saw Grace's unblinking eyes fixated on the back of my car seat — oh God, on my throat.

I didn't have much time.

I honked the car's horn. A dozen honks answered me. Before long, there was a deluge of honking and then screaming.

"Move it! We're dying out here!" A man's voice could be heard yelling in the distance. His car was far closer to the head of the line than mine. If his passengers were dying, then my sister was already done for. The traffic was at a stand-still. We barely moved an inch in half an hour. For what seemed like forever, I sat there, doing nothing.

Nothing — except watching the rain creep up little by little.

Finally, I slammed my fist down on my steering wheel and honked again. The car in front of me rolled down their passenger side window. A middle-aged woman wearing a polo shirt stuck her head out. She turned to me and gave me the middle finger for honking. I slapped my hands on the steering wheel. Stupid! Roll your window back up, asshole!

My breath caught in my throat as I saw her eyes glow in the darkness. Her lips drew back, and I couldn't believe it. Was she baring her teeth at me?

Turning her attention to a closer target, she lunged at the man at the steering wheel. After a brief scuffle, a gunshot exploded in the night. There was a wet thump as the remainder of the woman's head hit the car window. I couldn't believe my eyes. The man had shot her head off. The woman's brains were splattered all over, and chunks dripped over the half-lowered window. Bits of her hair and skull were now floating in the waters.

The car door opened, and the man who shot that woman stumbled out into the rain. I saw the strap of the gun tangled around his legs, causing him to trip into the watery street. I instinctively lowered my head in case he decided to shoot me next.

I saw the man crawl around on his hands and knees in the rain. He must have understood that being out there in the rain like that, practically swimming in it — he was good as dead. He kicked the gun off his feet and slowly, unsteadily pushed himself to his feet.

I wondered if he would take the gun and attack us now. If he hungered for human flesh, he had plenty to choose from. We were all sitting here in our tin cans like animals in their cages waiting for slaughter.

I remembered what they told us in school. First came the fever, chills, and mental cloudiness. Then there was a lowering of inhibitions. After that, there is a feeling of restlessness in one's mouth and teeth, an inability to swallow one's own's saliva, and paradoxically — an excruciating dryness in one's mouth. Then, along would come an indescribably intense ache in one's stomach. From that would later come the uncontrollable hunger. A hunger that knew nothing except its need to be satiated.

The man splashed in the waters and clawed at his neck. The signs were there. He was turning. As I met his eyes, his increasingly unnatural eyes, he backed away. Whatever humanity was left in him sent him backing away from the rest of us.

He went running into the storm. And that was the last I saw of him.

After he was gone, The other cars started to loop around, past the empty car. I couldn't stop staring at the silhouette of the headless woman slumped against the car door.

Trembling, I turned the steering wheel and went off the road. I knew it wasn't my fault that the woman was dead. She was undoubtedly infected, and the man (oh God, was he her husband?) probably brought that shotgun into the car because he understood the fatal choice that he would have to make.

I left the line of cars heading for the hospital because I couldn't handle it anymore — being alone on that road. I was almost twenty-one years old. I was the adult here. But at that moment, after everything I witnessed, I felt like a scared child. I just wanted to run and hide, to go somewhere dry and safe.

I plowed my car through the grassy hills to get out of the jammed streets. 

As I drove, my head cleared up a little. I recognized this neighborhood. My friend since middle school, Holly Xu, lived here. I came over to her house once to do a group project for our Informatics & Technology (which was a cutesy name for Shop) class. We had to build a model city of what we imagined the future would look like.

I remembered that Mr. Kittenroth, our teacher, graded me 95% (the highest grade in the class) because I had the brilliant idea that in the future, all houses would be on stilts. Land would be sparse because of overcrowding. People would have to colonize the ocean.

I had to laugh at that memory now. Little did I know, humans would not be moving out to sea. The sea would be the one to come to us, to conquer us. As for those of us who were caught without houses standing on stilts, well, perhaps we would end up with our heads blown off like the woman in the polo shirt.

Holly was a ridiculously useless partner, as anyone who spent more time cutting class to bum cigarettes off the security guards would me. I remembered she sat around talking on her phone with her then-boyfriend the entire time as I painstakingly put together paper houses with Elmer's glue and popsicle sticks.

I didn't care. I was just happy she didn't interfere with my vision. Driving down these familiar streets, I wondered if Holly would repay me for my hard work by offering us some shelter that night. Even more so, I wondered if she could spare an empty room for me to lock Grace in until the rain stopped and the sun came up to make the world safe again.

As we pulled into a nice neighborhood with well-maintained lawns, I noticed that there was barely a single house with its lights on. Did Holly and her family still live here in Windflower? I struggled to remember. Holly and I went to high school together, but we didn't keep in touch.

Oh, Holly, she was so popular and so uninterested in school. It figured that she ended up getting a job after graduation while the rest of us went to college. My own parents couldn't pay to send me anywhere far, but at least I was taking calculus this year. What was Holly up to? Last I heard, she was working as a salesgirl in one of those department stores in Miami where the stylish and bored housewives shopped.

I didn't want to meet up with her again. Especially not on a night like this, with my infected sister in tow.

Yet, there was no other choice. As much as I hated it, this was the only thing left to do. I had to go knock on the Xu family door.

I didn't even know if the house I pulled up to was the right house. It was so many years ago since we worked on that project together. All I remembered is that she lived on a hill with a bamboo forest growing around it. There was a Dead End sign leading to her street. Her parents were Asian, but they were also New-Age folks. They had a pool in their basement with miniature stone lions guarding it. Oh, and did I mention, they were relatively wealthy. Well, as wealthy as you could hope to be in Windflower Springs.

As I eased our car into the Xu family's driveway, I saw empty crates scattered about with crab symbols drawn on them. This was the right house, all right. Holly's parents owned a Chinese Seafood restaurant in the trendy portion of our town. My family went there once, for my birthday. I remembered that the Xus used to steam up bags of crab and mussels for twenty dollars a pound. When the food came, dad complained they loaded up the one-pound bags with potatoes.

I cringed at the memory of how embarrassed I was. My father walked up the cash register and nitpicked how many crab legs we got. He refused to pay what he considered an exorbitant bill. My father made the generous and easygoing Mr. Xu give us tang yuan in rice wine soup for free to make up for the potatoes. Even though my parents made me eat that free dessert, I wanted to melt into the ground in shame. I knew Mr. Xu recognized me and he would go home to laugh with Holly about how cheap my father was. Lesson learned — never go out to eat with your parents. Especially not when your friends from school would hear about it.

As the rain pelted our car, I wondered if my dad was even alive anymore.

I drove my car as close to the garage overhand as I could. Luckily, the bamboo trees blocked some of the rain. I covered my head with a plastic bag and yanked Grace out of the back car seat. We hurried down the covered walkway to the front door. Even though there was an archway over the front door, the rain was falling in slanted shards now. The wind was blowing it everywhere. I felt it pelt my face with every step I took. I rang the doorbell once, twice.

Then I forgot about being polite, and I banged on the door with my fists.

The house was dark. There were no sounds of footsteps, or voices, or flashlights. There was simply — nothingness. No one was home.

I wanted to cry. I didn't know what to do except to bang on the door again.

Then Grace did something odd. She reached out and turned the doorknob.

No, she really turned the doorknob, as it practically came off in her hand.

"Oh," Grace said in a dreamy, perplexed voice. "That was easy."

I didn't care that we had broken into Holly's house. I didn't even care that the door was locked before Grace reached out and opened it. All I cared about was getting out of the rain. I shoved Grace inside, and then I threw myself against the door to close it behind me. The Blight Rain raged against the closed door as though it was angry at us for having gotten away.

The house was dark, and every creek reminded me of the sound of ghostly footsteps. Grace nicked a throw-blanket from the nearby couch and wrapped herself in it. Through chattering teeth, she smiled at me.

At least we were dry now.