Untold Story ║ Book 1 of The Untold series

Chapter 11 - Unspoken concerns

I sit at my father's desk, my thoughts jumbled, my notes laid out in front of me. The room offers a momentary refuge from the relentless chaos outside. My hands, still trembling from the encounter at the supermarket, I clutch the pen tightly as I consider what I had just written. How could something like this be real? How had it all gone so wrong?

As I wrestle with my fears and doubts, the door to the office creaked open. I turn to see Zane, my younger brother, entering cautiously. He has a look of concern etched on his face, his normally cheerful demeanor subdued by our situation.

"How are you holding up, Jane?" Zane asks, his voice laced with unspoken concerns. He closes the door behind him as if to keep the outside world at bay for just a little longer.

I sigh, setting my pen down and pushing my notes aside. "I don't know, Zane. This... everything we're going through, it's beyond anything I could have imagined."

Zane walks over and perched on the edge of the desk. "I know, sis. We're all struggling to make sense of this nightmare. But we're in this together, and we'll get through it together."

His words are comforting, but the weight of the world outside presses on me. Zane's presence, however, offers a glimmer of hope in the midst of despair.

"We didn't even get the food from the car, it's still out there," I emphasize.

"Let's wait a day or two, see if the situation outside improves," he suggests. I gradually begin to relax.

I'm eager to know how Joel is holding up amidst the turmoil. "How's Joel?" I ask.

Zane's response brings a small smile to my face. "Right now, he's playing with all of Dad's watches," he reports.

Zane's voice carries a tone of concern. "But Jane, those creatures are unbelievably strong. Sure, dealing with a single infected individual is manageable, but when you're up against several, that's a whole different challenge," he pauses, his brows furrows. "Barricading the house was no easy feat, believe me."

Noah, who has been lurking in the background, chimed in with a question that lingers in the minds of all of us. "Zane, shouldn't we be concerned about our water supply? In a situation like this, access to clean water can become a critical issue." Noah had previously worked as a water tech.

In response to Noah's query, Zane and I exchange apprehensive glances before swiftly making our way to the kitchen sink. There, we grab a large, ominous-looking black bowl and position it under the faucet. As the water gushes into the bowl, a sense of collective relief washed over us. But our joy is short-lived.

Noah, eager to quench his thirst, fills a glass with the tap water and starts lifting it towards his lips. In a sudden, gut-wrenching moment of realization, I see a reddish tinge in the water, and before I can control my reflexes, I slap the glass out of his hand.

The water is contaminated. Panic and frustration welled up within me as I try to explain.

"Do you have water in the car?" Zane questions as he checks how many water bottle we have in the fridge and in the pantry.

"yeah" Thomas chimes in.

*****

We sit in the living room, Joel once again playing with the fire truck, as Zane tries to make him drink water. I used to feel apologetic about him being a single father, but as Joel grew, i was feeling proud of my little brother.

"How long should we wait for the army?" my mother questions. but we all simply just sit, not replying. but my aunt June broke the silence "Hopefully soon".

"yeah I'm dying out of boredom" Thomas tries to lift the spirits a little, in his own stupid way.

I rise from my chair, feeling the need to freshen up, and I walk to the bathroom. My trembling hands cradled my face as I wet a piece of toilet paper with the precious bottled water, the cold liquid providing a small respite. Rinsing my face, I hoped it might wash away some of the anxiety that had become a constant companion. When I push the bathroom door open, a face suddenly loomed in the doorway, and my stomach plummets for an instant, fearing it was one of those infected.

"Oh, God, Mike... you gave me a shock," I mutter, relief washing over me as I recognize him.

He seems troubled, and I could see it etched in the lines on his face. "Can I ask you something?" Mike inquired with an earnest tone. I nod, curiosity mixed with wariness.

"Is it because of him, that you rejected me?" His words hang in the air, thick with unspoken tension.

"Who do you mean? Thomas?"

He presses on, his eyes pleading for honesty. "I've seen how you look at him. Admit it." With each sentence, he inches closer, and my anxiety takes on a different flavor, one laced with unease.

Taking a cautious step back, I try to avoid his intense gaze. "Mike, I think you should take a step back." The smile in my voice hides the underlying anxiety.

"What does he have that I don't?" he persists, closing the gap between us. I feel the walls of the small bathroom closing in, a sense of claustrophobia setting in.

"Mike, stop it," I urge again, my hands pushing against his shoulders to create some distance. But in the confined space, it was an impossible feat.

"Bet you wouldn't ask him to stop," he retorts. The distance between us evaporated, as he pushes himself closer, determined to claim the kiss I had denied him.

Yet, before a second could pass, a pair of hands appear out of nowhere, yanking Mike away from me.

It takes me a heart-stopping moment to realize that it was Uncle Lucas who had stepped in, his imposing frame pinning Mike against the wall with an iron grip. The intensity of Lucas's gaze could have melted steel as he leaned in close to Mike.

"Give me a reason I shouldn't throw you out to those monsters," Lucas hissed, a menacing edge to his voice.

An internal battle rage within me, and I hesitate for a brief moment. Tears well up in my eyes, but I knew I couldn't let this escalate further. "Lucas, it's fine," I finally manage to say, my voice trembling. Was it really fine? I gave Mike a warning glare, a silent threat, and a plea for him to back down.

I turn away, making my way out of the hallway, not caring about Lucas's next move. What matters was that he had discovered Mike's actions instead of Zane or even Thomas. If it had been one of them, Mike might not have been given the chance to reflect on his actions.

I don't need any more blood on my hands.

I sat in the room with everybody, the night descended upon us, and the discussion turned to where everyone would sleep in our crowded household. With a multitude of people, finding the right arrangements proved to be a challenge.

My parents decide to keep their own room, offering to take Joel in, who eagerly accept the chance to sleep with his grandparents. Zane and Noah settles into Zane's childhood room.

Lucas, always protective, directs Mike to the living room and claims the office sofa for himself. I could tell it was a precautionary measure after the recent events.

"the sofa can expand. June could sleep there with you" my mother says with a smile, and the wrinkles around her eyes appear.

As for me, I find myself alone in my childhood room, an unsettling feeling creeping in. Zane offers the sofa in his room to Thomas, suggesting that Noah could sleep in the bed with him. With those arrangements in place, we all retreat to our respective sleeping spaces, the night's uncertainty hanging heavy in the air.

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Word count : 1336

By night-ed

Book one : Untold Story

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