Human

by Courtney Druzak

Hard red dirt blew up in clouds around the tires of Gabe’s Ford truck as he shifted it from

drive into park. Hands still clenched around the steering wheel, he settled back against the

leather seat cushion and stared out at the desert. It stretched bare and unending miles before him,

only broken occasionally by heaps of red rocks or brown, cracking plants caked in red dust.

From the north, his eyes could make out the sudden swirl and gust of one of the quick twisters

that popped up unexpectedly in the deserts of Kansas. It had only been a decade since this land

was filled with pastures and grain ready to be harvested, full and plump, but now it was a barren

wasteland. He didn’t even bother to marvel over the change anymore.

Gabe felt the muscles in his arms pull tight. His hands flexed around the steering wheel,

making the sheet of paper he had kept clenched in his right fist for the entire trip crackle. It

sounded too loud, and he froze. He waited, silent. Nothing moved or stirred save the twister to

the north, which went out as fast as it had come, leaving a fine red cloud of dust hanging in the

air. Then he waited another five minutes, until his pulse slowed to an even beat. They would

have come by now. She must be right.

Satisfied, he reached into the passenger seat and grabbed the long range rifle that had

been his closest companion for far too long. The familiarity of the weapon against his palms

immediately soothed his nerves. He checked to make sure it was loaded and sighed as he opened

the Ford’s door.

 His eyes squinted against the burst and glare of sunlight as his feet hit the red earth,

sending up a small shower of dust. He reached back into the cab of the truck for a minute,

fumbling blindly under the seat as he blinked sunspots from his eyes. He shoved the worn and

torn Red Sox cap onto his head and pulled the brim down low to protect his eyes, allowing him

to see better in a world where visibility was life or death. He scratched the stubble on his chin,

rubbed the tiredness and stress from his eyes because of a sleepless night, and left the cab door

open. There was no point in taking chances. Just because he hadn’t seen any didn’t mean they

weren’t here.

Gabe felt goose bumps ripple across his head and down his back and arms until they

reached his heels in pulsing waves at the mere thought of them. His hands tightened around the

rifle automatically. The crackle made him jump suddenly, and then he chuckled when he realized

the note was still in his hand. He hefted the rifle against his shoulder and smoothed out the sheet

of lined notebook paper. The ink was blue and smudged from his hand, but he could still read

what it said. He’d read it enough times to be able to repeat it in his sleep, but he read it again

anyway.

Don’t freak out and kill my messenger, okay? I heard where you were. I need you. I need

a case of antibiotics. Bring it to the coordinates of your age and the year I was born. Take seven

from the first number, then ten more North. The second number of the second series is the same

as the second number of the first. Divide that by six and tack on West. I’ll be waiting for you
there. I need it, Gabe. You know I wouldn’t ask unless I did. It’s worth the trip. The parasites

don’t like the heat. It’s safe. I promise.

See you there. Mila.

The parasites don’t like the heat, he read again. Gabe glanced around himself, over the

bed of the Ford with the case of precious antibiotics that Mila had requested strapped in the back.

Nothing. None of the lightening fast killers that liked to roam the cities of the north, searching

for what survivors they could find to feast on. He patted the butt of the gun fondly. It reminded

himself that if Mila said it was safe, it probably was. And besides, guns were the best protection

against them anyway. It was better to get a shot through their head when they were still a good

distance away. Before they came too close. Before their human hands could reach you, their now

canine like teeth pierce your skin. Before you could guess at their gender and see the broken

fragments of humanity glistening in their eyes.

Gabe felt his stomach roll over as he thought of their faces, of being close to one.

Sometimes, there was still jewelry around their necks or in their ears, wedding bands on their

fingers. He remembered more than one occasion where his group, desperate and in need of

something to trade, had gone on sprees to find the monsters. Once found, they would down as

many as possible just so they could pluck the gold and silver from their mutilated bodies. And

the best way to carry it home? Wear it, of course. It was despicable. It was disgusting. It was

inhuman. It was survival now.

 He passed a hand across his forehead, wiping away the sweat and wishing that Mila

would hurry. Why had he agreed to do this anyway? He could have just sent her messenger back

with a note saying, “Hell no.” In fact, he should have. Or should have at least demanded a trade

for the meds. So she was his sister. So what? He sighed, kicked a patch of the earth until more

dust billowed up around his ankles and settled into the creases of his peeling Nikes. Baby sis

Mila. He drove across three states for her, through the night, through parasite infested territory

for her, and she was late. Typical. Inconsiderate. Mila.

Gabe paused in his mental tirade and looked at the note again, at the coordinates she had

directed him to. Bring it to the coordinates of your age and the year I was born. His age was

thirty-seven, and she was born in ’97. He was sure—almost positive—not really quite sure of it.

He frowned and pulled the folded up map of the old states out of his back jean pocket. He

checked the coordinates again. Then he checked his math for what seemed like the hundredth

time from the clues Mila had provided. Yup. The middle of freaking Clearwater, Kansas, where

they had gone for so many summers to see Pap and the horses. So why wasn’t she here? His

mind started to panic. He brought the gun up automatically, ready to aim. Maybe he should have

brought someone along with him, just in case. No, no, he couldn’t have asked anyone to risk

their lives on such a foolhardy mission. And what about Mila? Had something happened? Had

she gotten into trouble? Was she wrong, and the parasites lurked here too?

He took a breath, brought the gun down, and reminded himself that Mila had always been

late. Calm down, calm down, Gabe. She’ll get here. She’s fast and she’s been smart enough to

live this long. He relaxed the gun at his side, hands shaking.
 Then he swore and reached into his pants for a cigarette. Someone had better have damn

well been dying for this.

Gabe sighed and passed a hand over his face to wipe away the heat induced sweat. As big

of a pain in the ass as she was, Mila was his sister. She was worth it. He knew, despite his

grumbling and the danger that he would always come when she needed him.

Mila let out a whoop of joy as the Escalade landed on its front two tires, skidding wildly

across the now red deserts of Kansas. Beside her, Jesse was grinning as he switched CDs into the

player and turning up the volume of Three Doors Down. He shouted over the noise, “Been a

while since you got out, huh?”

Mila laughed and reached over to rustle the teenager’s hair until he grinned lopsidedly.

“You bet. We’ve been stuck in that damn hole in the ground so long now that I’d forgotten what

sunshine looked like!” She shoved her face out of the open window and took a breath of air, and

came back in choking. “Damn desert.”

Jesse chuckled, flipping through the CD case absentmindedly. “Hey,” he said suddenly,

frowning at the sunlight that came through his window and glinted off the polished and smooth

CDs. “Mila. You sure he’s gonna be there? He was pretty pissed off when I left.”
 “Aw, he’ll be there,” she replied, swerving sharply around a rock jutting out of the desert.

She watched a lizard go running for safety. “Gabe probably threw a fit for a while and then

decided that he wouldn’t just be able to leave what’s left of humanity die over a little car ride and

box of antibiotics. Besides, I’m his sister. He wouldn’t abandon me.” She smirked at Jessie. “My

big brother has always been predictable.”

“And you’re sure this is going to work?” he said as the song ended. He popped the CD

out and slid it back into the case, but didn’t replace it. “Sure it was worth all of this?”

Mila slowed the Escalade a little, sighed, and reached over to pat Jesse’s knee. It wasn’t

easy, playing mother to the orphan or having to watch out for all the others and get them through

each slow, fear filled day, but it was worth it if it meant survival in the end. She had a job to do

now. She had promised Derrick that she would protect them no matter what the cost, to ensure

their survival, and she intended to do it.

The young woman could still clearly recall when she had learned what protection and

survival really meant. She brought her hands back up to the steering wheel and clenched it

convulsively. It had been the day that she and Derrick had found Jesse, scared and alone, with no

one left to watch out for him.

She and Derrick had been married just over two years when the first parasites appeared.

They had been some of the lucky ones, already trained to stay alive and use a gun because of the

badges that tagged them as police officers attached to their chests. Those badges had given them
a chance, and also gave them the duty of leadership when they met up with other survivors, wide

eyed and barely alive. She remembered the fear she had to keep bottled up in front of the others,

how she had to set an example to prevent them from panicking. She remembered how Derrick

had been the only one she could let see her cry. She remembered how he would wrap his large

hands around her waist, lift her into the air, and spin her around until she couldn’t help but let her

sobs turn to laughter. And then she would hug the big idiot, his optimism infectious. Derrick had

taken care of all of them, had been that breath of fresh air to lighten the load with his pranks and

lighthearted demeanor. He had been the only thing that had kept her going in the terrifying new

world they had found themselves in.

But that had ended the day they had run across Jesse. The parasite with the blue eyes, the

one that still haunted her dreams, had almost made a meal of her as they tried to escape. Derrick,

ever faithful, the only thing she could count on, had brought the parasite’s attention to himself as

Jessie hid, drawing it away from her. It had fled before she could get a shot in, smarter than the

rest. And it had left Derrick behind, bleeding and torn to shreds, already becoming one of them.

She remembered how he made her promise to keep kicking and live, no matter what. And Mila

remembered the way his brains had splattered when she put the bullet through his head. She had

seen the price she knew she would always have to pay in his eyes.

Mila took a few deep breaths before she let her hands relax around the wheel again. She

glanced over at Jesse, her face hard and barely composed. She contemplated telling him to just

grow up and deal with it, but instead she said, “I’m sorry Tom died on the way up there, okay?

But he knew the risks, and he wanted to go. He made sure you got there and back safely. He did
his job, and he went out with his head held high. As for the rest of it—“ Mila waved a hand.

“You gotta do what you gotta do to survive now, Jess. No matter the consequences, okay?

There’s only so much left in this world. Only so much that we can get out hands on, what with

the parasites crawling through the cities where all the supplies are that we really need. So we just

gotta buck up and try to live, okay?” She gave his knee a comforting squeeze.

Out of the corner of her eye, Mila could see that Jesse was frowning hard at the CD case,

face still unsure. “Okay,” he mumbled, and began to flip through it again. She grinned, tousling

his hair until he started to whine.

It was another hour before they saw anything. “Look!” Jesse pointed off to the left side of

the windshield, but Mila had already spotted the beaten and dusty Ford that her brother had had

even since before the parasites. She slowed, approaching cautiously until she saw him waving a

rifle in greeting. Then she shoved a hand out the window to wave back.

“Now,” Mila said to Jessie, smile glued to her face, hand still waving a welcome at Gabe

as the slowed. “You still remember the way there, right?”

“Yes,” he said, shoving the CD case into the glove compartment of the Escalade. He

traded it for a handgun that he put into the back pocket of his faded jeans. She saw his hands

shaking.
 “Hey,” Mila soothed as the put the car into park and reached over to shove her own

handgun into the back of her pants. She rolled up the windows as Gabe started to approach and

touched Jesse’s face. “Relax, kid. I take care of you, right? I wouldn’t suddenly stop now.” She

smiled at Gabe as he knocked on the window and said, “Just relax, okay?”

Jesse nodded, and they both hopped out of the car.

Mila immediately launched herself at Gabe. She grabbed the baseball cap from his head

and rubbed her knuckles back and forth across his scalp until he managed to pull her off. He

huffed at her moodily and snatched the cap back to replace on his head. “Knock that off. What

took you so long? I’ve been waiting out here for hours with my nerves fraying on end.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “You must have been early, moron. You probably drove like a

bat outta hell. I didn’t think you’d be here until around noon.”

Gabe gestured toward the sky. Mila smiled at the five o’clock shadow on his face and the

beaten Red Sox hat that she remembered had belonged to Dad. “It’s an hour past noon. So you’re

late.”

She waved a hand nonchalantly, and jerked her head toward Jesse. “You remember the

kid, right?”
 “Of course I do. Can’t forget him after he all but got filled with lead because he scared

the shit out of half of us.” Gabe smiled good naturedly at him, and motioned them to follow him

over to his truck. Gabe stuffed the rifle into the truck’s cab as Mila gave Jessie a reassuring pat

on the arm. She was suddenly hyper aware of the small bulge in his back pocket.

“Don’t turn around in front of him,” she whispered. Jessie nodded fervently, and she

made a mental note not to do it either.

“So, Tina okay with you making the trip alone?” she called to Gabe.

He snorted back at them. “You kidding me? She almost tore my head off. Actually, she

wanted to tear yours off. She doesn’t see why we just don’t combine groups for safety.”

“Because it wouldn’t be for safety, it would be for comfort,” Mila replied, reaching the

bed of the truck and leaning against it. She pulled back from the hot metal with a hiss and rubbed

at her singed arm. “And none of us can get too comfortable. Besides, it’d be easier for the

parasites to track a bigger group.”

Gabe snorted. “You try telling her that.”

Jesse whistled at the crate of antibiotics as he peered over the Ford bed, having already

learned from Mila’s mistake and keeping his hands and arms away from it. “That’ll last us a

year! Maybe more.”

 “It sure as hell had better,” Gabe growled. “Do you know how many Walmarts I had to

raid for this? A parasite almost chewed my hand off.” He pulled the cap down lower over his

eyes and leveled Mila with a look. “Why are you in such a rush for it?”

She shrugged. “Had a couple of the guys get into an accident with the parasites. We have

the meds for colds, but not the stuff to fight off infections. Ran out of it a few months ago.” She

paused. “I sure owe you for this, Gabe.”

He nodded, showing he understood, and looked at the bleak landscape around them.

“You remember that time we came out to Pap’s farm out here when we were kids?” he asked.

Mila nodded. Gabe shoved his hands into his jean pockets and sighed. “I passed the farm on the

way here. Totally leveled. This place doesn’t even look like it once use to.”

“Of course not.” Mila punched his arm. “What, you expect it to with the climate changes?

But I’ll tell you what, it’s probably one of the best things that ever happened. If this desert keeps

spreading north, it’ll reach some of the big cities soon, and drive out the parasites. Then we can

get our hands on some real supplies.”

Gabe was rubbing at his chin with his thumb and forefinger thoughtfully. “How’d you

find out they don’t like the heat?”

 Mila grinned at Jessie, remembering the incident. “They tried to follow us back to base

once. After a while, they started hanging back. Then we watched a few of them just roll over and

drop dead. They must not be able to handle it as well as humans. Dehydrate faster or something.

It explains why they thrive in the northern cities, too. Can’t take the heat.”

Gabe laughed. “That’s handy to know. Maybe we’ll move farther out this way.”

“Then you’ll have the same problem we do,” Mila pointed out. “Plenty of protection, but

limited supplies.”

He sighed, wiping sweat from under his brow. “Yeah, and I dunno if I could handle it

being this hot all the time either. Here, let me get these meds in the Escalade so you can get it

back to those guys before infection sets in too deep. Besides, I’m tired of this heat. I feel like I’m

melting.”

Jesse helped him lug the crate over to the Escalade and shove it into the back, huffing and

puffing the entire time. Mila watched them in amusement.

“Shouldn’t you be doing this?” Gabe called to her as he slammed the trunk. “You were

the cop. You’ve got some muscle on you. Poor kid was nearly tripping over himself.” He

punched Jesse’s arm lightly, and the boy cringed.

 “Hey, you need someone to keep an eye out for trouble that has good aim and fast

reflexes.”

Gabe chuckled. “Oh really? I thought you said it was safe out here.”

Mila smiled. “It is safe,” she said. “I promised, right?”

She sent the bullet through Gabe’s left chest cavity before he could blink. His eyes flew

wide, staring at her in disbelief, uncomprehending at this betrayal. They sought her out, fixated

on her face as reality crashed against him. He took a step backward and swayed precariously. His

hands scrabbled desperately at his chest as a deep red blossom bloomed across it.

Mila lowered the gun and realized her hand was shaking. She clenched her fist as her

brother’s knees gave way, seeming to melt as he stumbled onto the ground before her. She

looked down at him, her face blank and empty while she swallowed the tendrils of regret that

pricked at her throat. She narrowed her eyes and reminded herself that this was the price of

survival. Derrick’s face swam before, but she pushed him away. She forced herself to watch as a

Gabe coughed, spraying a mist of red before himself. He took one last choking breath, then sent

up a red cloud of dust as he fell like an overripe fruit onto the desert.

Mila took a breath to compose herself before she looked at Jesse. He was hiding partly

behind the Escalade, eyes riveted on Gabe’s body.

 “Come here,” she said, and stepped over Gabe’s still body to hold him against her.

Jesse’s breathing was harsh, his hands locked around her waist. She pulled back, kissed his

forehead, and looked up at him, holding him at arm’s length. “You okay?”

He nodded fervently. “I’m okay.”

She kissed his cheek and leaned down to grab the cap off Gabe’s head, setting it on her

own. “I’ll need you to go first in the Escalade, but when we get close, you pull over and let me

go ahead of you so that they recognize the Ford, okay kid?” He nodded. Mila smoothed his hair,

squeezed his hands for comfort. “Things are too limited, Jesse. This isn’t about what’s right or

wrong, what’s human or inhuman. If we have competition, then they’re taking what we could use

to keep ourselves alive. If you have to, pretend they’re parasites. Just remember that it’s about

survival, okay?”

Jesse nodded, face smooth and composed. His eyes bore something new. “It’s about

survival now.”