Some Thing Called Myself (Complete)

XXXVI: Something Darker

Ch. 36: Something Darker

Kiki was already sleeping when Mara went back to her room. The girl looked like a little angel, her chest going up and down in a steady rhythm that in nothing resembled the accelerated mess in Mara's head. Mara had decided to keep her organs fully awake every time Kiki was around to make sure her sister would be safe around her—well, safer—but the more the monster in her chest grew, the harder it was to stand still, and the less sleep she got.

A loud clack made her shoulders jerk up. Mara looked to her right to find the old aluminum clock on her nightstand. The ancient thing must have a dented cog somewhere, for it always made that weird-ass sound every time the three hands met in the same number. Mara sighed.

12:00 AM.

Her eyes got lost in the darkness of the ceiling. What if Numa wasn't there? What if, right now, Numa was talking to Jano and telling him all the truth about Mara's Zombieism? Maybe they had an incentive program for Zombie rats as they did during the Military Dictatorship.

What would Numa get for ratting Mara out? Prestige? Money? Meat?

Mara should just barge into Jano's party. She should get up, take her knife, and cut Numa's tongue out!

Clack. 1:05 AM.

Kiki groaned and muttered something about poneys and ice cream. "Mara, it's a shark zombie; protect the dessert," she mumbled.

Mara had to clasp a hand on her lips to stop from laughing. Kids are so innocent. A tear ran down the corner of her eyes. If Mara ever hurt her little sister, she would never...no, stop.

She could do this. She would do this. Find a way to keep Numa's mouth shut. Protect Kiki. Find Mom. Help the Sentinels.

Her heart raced, the palpitations making her head lighter.

"It's okay," she whispered to herself. "Breathe." Even if Numa wasn't at the party, Jano would help reach her. And Bernardo would help to reach Jano, no matter what.

Clack. 02:10 AM.

Enough. She couldn't stay put anymore.

Mara tossed her blanket aside and slipped out of bed. Bernardo would take care of the invitation for Jano's party—the least Mara could do was to keep an eye out for Numa in the other parts of the HQ...like the kitchen.

In the dim light of her lampshade, Mara threw on a clean t-shirt and sweatpants, clasped her baldric around her chest, and took her knife. Mara sneaked out of the room and across the dark corridors of the HQ like a mouse in a maze it knew well.

The square building was quiet. People slept sitting against the walls here and there, bottles of beer and cups of quentão littered the benches, and crumpled, greasy paper plates were strewed around overflowing trash cans.

Once Mara's feet met the cold cement of the patio, she stopped. Things looked different here.

The Kerana tree hummed as if recognizing her presence, and Mara placed a hand on her chest to feel her beating heart answer. Around the sacred tree, everything was as clean and immaculate as it should be. The booths were gone, the burnt bonfire had been removed, and every blade of grass looked whole and perfectly green; the only hint that the party had happened here were the lines of colored paper flags webbing the ceiling.

And the only hint that something was wrong was the smell of rot and the quiet sadness rippling from the Kerana tree.

Mara averted her eyes.

"I know, girl," she mumbled. The fissuring was still happening, the Kerana tree was still dying, and the Sents still needed her...but Mara still turned around and crossed the empty patio toward the kitchen.