Page 51 of The Hollowed
Myra’s grip on the wheel tightened, and for a moment she considered brushing him off again. But the bitter words slipped out before she could stop them.
“Easier?” she said with a laugh. “If we had spoken Spanish at home, it would’ve made us look like we weren’t American enough. If someone like me speaks it, it’s suspicious and wrong, but if someone like you does it’s…” She paused, trying to find the words. “An accomplishment and something to admire.”
Myra didn’t bother to look over at Cipher to gauge his reaction.
After a moment, Cipher sighed and from the corner of her eye Myra caught the tinge of hesitation on his face. He looked like he was turning her words over carefully, debating whether there was anything he could say that wouldn’t land wrong. It wasn’t his fault that the world was this way of course. It was just the system they’d both been forced to grow up in.
“Well…” he said at last, adjusting his glasses with a small, nervous motion. “They definitely didn’t cover that in Foreign Affairs.”
The unexpected dryness of his response made the tension in Myra loosen. If it had been anyone else, she might have held the laughter back, guarding herself like she always did. But this was Cipher and with him, the laugh escaped before she could stop it. She let it out, then slid one hand from the steering wheel to lightly nudge his arm, playful in a way she rarely allowed herself to be.
Cipher chuckled boyishly at her nudge, but then his laughter tapered off. When she glanced sideways, his expression had changed.
“Sorry if I pressed too much,” he said, more careful this time. “I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable.”
The sincerity in his tone pulled at something she usually kept locked away. Before she could form a reply, he leaned closer and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. The contact was quick but it lingered all the same, sending a warmth through her that she still hadn’t gotten used to.
“What the heck was that?” Jace suddenly asked from the backseat.
Myra rolled her eyes as Cipher straightened in his seat and cleared his throat awkwardly. She gripped the wheel a little tighter, biting back another laugh that threatened to spill free.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, fighting to keep her voice even, though her smile gave away how much she loved the both of them.
After stopping to stretch, Myra crouched beside the van’s open door, pill bottle trembling in her hands. One dose every six hours. She’d repeated it to herself so many times, but saying it out loud didn’t make her any more confident.
Jace sat propped against a duffel bag, sweat slicking his brown hair to his forehead. “It’s okay,” he said. “You won’t mess it up.”
“I know,” she said, though her fingers fumbled anyway as she placed the pill into the syringe and pulled back the plunger a few times to crush it. The syringe felt foreign and heavier than it should have. She drew in the liquid next, careful to tap out every bubble the way Doc had instructed her to.
When she finally pressed the needle into the bend of Jace’s arm, she forced herself not to look away. He hissed but didn’t flinch. Myra exhaled only when the plunger reached its end.
“See?” Jace whispered, the corner of his mouth pulling into something like a smile. “You’re basically a nurse!”
“Hardly,” she responded, capping the syringe and tossing it aside. Just then, Cipher appeared from the front seat to swap places at the wheel, Myra caught his small nod of approval and felt something unclench inside her chest. Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all.
She climbed into the passenger seat, letting the tension in her shoulders ease as the van rolled back onto the road ahead.
Myra had been sleeping deeply enough to forget the road and the weight of their task just for a little while until Cipher’s touch startled her awake. Her body jolted upright and her heart leapt to her throat before she realized it was only him. She exhaled sharply, catching her breath, and blinked until her eyesadjusted.
It was then that she sawthem.
At first, her tired eyes struggled to make out the bodies in the dark, but then the patterns came into focus. They looked like horses in a way but with striped coats and slender legs. Their movements were casual, almost lazy, as though the apocalypse had never touched them.
Zebras.
For a moment, she thought she was still dreaming, but they were real and strolling by as though the world belonged to them.
“Jace,” she whispered, reaching over to the backseat to nudge him awake. “Look outside.”
He groaned and rubbed his eyes. When he followed her gaze his face lit up and wonder washed away the fatigue. “What are those?” he asked, pressing himself between Myra and Cipher. “Are they real?”
Seeing Jace experience something new made warmth bloom in her chest. “Yeah. They’re real.”
“They’re zebras,” Cipher added. “Although if I had to guess, they’re probably a genetically modified breed. Before the outbreak most zoos experimented with — ”
“Shhh,” Myra cut him off quickly, shaking her head with a quiet laugh. “Just let him enjoy it.”
Cipher’s mouth closed and after a moment even he leaned back and let the rare sight unfold in silence. Together they watched the herd cross the road until the last of their stripes disappeared into the shadows.