Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Not a word. We stopped and stared at one another in a blaring loud silence. My throat felt the pressure of a boa constrictor wrapped around as if it was taking my speech as its prey. Had it not been for the book in my hands I may have been more reckless. Instead, my arms weighed me down like deep sea anchors made from heaps of rusted steel sunk into cold arctic waters. I couldn't look her in the eyes even if I tried, every time I got close I'd feel myself set ablaze by a fire beneath my skin that was probably turning my face bright red for her to see. My mind was drawing a stuttering blank, like someone kept pulling the trigger on a revolver with no bullets. My heart, yeah, my heart was somewhere skipping about to this sincere paradise. My heart wanted nothing more than to come closer, even if it was just a step. So I let that sincerity clear my head, cool my blood, bring my eyes up to hers, hoist my arms to my chest, and I broke the still air with a gentle voice. 

"Hey," I said, making my voice slightly but believably deeper than it actually is. "You know that's my backpack, right?" 

She appeared taken aback, pointing to herself and taking a moment to look left and right to double check first. I pointed at my radio backpack in case she wasn't aware of where she came out of. The angelic girl, still glowing so bright, looked down to find herself knee deep in the bag. She mouthed an "Oh" before stepping down to the dusty walmart tile floor. 

As I went to pick up my bag, she attempted to meet me for a handshake, which I confused as her going for a hug which I then tried to reciprocate, to which she awkwardly fumbled around me thinking I was just now going for my bag, so then I reached out for my bag and found myself shaking her her hand in a really awkward sideways manner. I blushed a little. Despite her radiance, her embarrassed smile showed she did too. 

"I need you - your help I mean, I need your help," she spoke her first words to me with the grace of an elephant on roller skates. "Uhm, sorry, sorry, that was too fast. Hi, you're probably so confused. I can explain, I swear." 

"You can start by explaining your name," I said. I felt like that was a good one. 

She giggled a little. A genuine one that you could tell caught her off guard, brushing a bit of the stress she was carrying in her posture off her shoulders. "Hayati Azam, you?" Her voice was smooth across each inflection of pronunciation, as if each word was written for her to speak them with beautiful precision. 

"Nasir, Nasir Arzani," I responded, now taking the time to really see her. Through her brilliant shine were features equally so angelic. Soft eyes, her eyelids spoke volumes expressing her emotions. A thin, hooked nose gave her a flowing yet regal appearance like the birds in the sky. Her hair was a stormy sea, waves crashing all around. "You're brown too aren't ya?" 

Hayati raised a brow. "What gave it away?" She asked. 

"Well past the… glowy skin, you got brown people features. Plus your voice has got a little ting to it," I responded, putting an extra south asian accent on the ting while bobbing my head like an old desi uncle. 

"I so do not have an accent!" 

"I so do not have an accent!" I responded, with an even stronger accent and head bob. "Why you come here woman?" I continued. It was strange how natural joking around and talking to her felt in such a short time. A sort of cornball charisma laid dormant within me. 

"Oh shut up already!" she laughed out the words. The smile wiped off her face as motioned her hands up and down to collect herself and breathe. "Okay, look, this is serious. I need your help, Nasir." 

With a raised brow, I cut her off. "Hold on a sec, you mind explaining, I don't know like, everything?" 

"I'll get there, have some patience, man," she said. "I'll start off with this. The world is a whole lot different right now than what you think it is. There's still people." 

"People? How many? Where? " I asked. She didn't pay much attention to my questions. 

"Nasir, do you know how the apocalypse started?" 

"No?" I replied, now looking around at the desolate empty Walmart we were in. There's still people out there? It's been just me this whole time! I felt cheated, my face near blushing with embarrassing levels of frustrations rising in my face like fresh bread. 

"A nuke. A nuke went off in the United States and they nuked back a whole bunch of places. A hole in the ozone caused by the explosions created the mutant zombie infection and it created a whole lot of other things you haven't the slightest clue about," she spoke with a cold purposeful cadence, as if it was important for her that I memorized every word she said. 

I stood there perplexed with my face contorted with confusion. "And you know this cause?"

"The great ozone depletion created other sorts of mutations, it straight up killed most people, and now here I am appearing before you. But I'm not actually here," she pointed at the backpack radio. "That is how you can see and hear me." 

"So can I do something cool like that?" I held my arm out, as if to try and use the force. 

"No, you sat inside for like a year, and I think the ozone filled back in," she said bluntly. "But, you can help me." 

"So you can do all that, meanwhile I'm out here cleaning walmarts to pass the time, and you're asking for my help?" I said. If I could've kicked rocks I would've, instead my head hung low while my feet made skid sounds of the tile floor like a rec league basketball game. Just like in those basketball games, I was bummed out now cause I didn't score. Everyone got mutant superpowers and I got lonely. 

She took a step closer to me, I felt a rush of warmth in my face. "There's a way out. A way to safety, Nasir. A rescue ferry's coming all the way from some Asian coastline and sailing to America. You're gonna take me to 'em." 

I scooped up my bag. "Okay, let me get some stuff first," I said, walking off to find food to pack. 

"Wait, that's all it took? You don't wanna ask more?" she said, trotting behind me to catch up. I shrugged it off and reached for a bag of doritos. Hayati smacked my hand and snatched a family sized pack. "It's gonna be a long trip, Nasir." 

"Where to?" I said, stuffing the pack into my bag. 

"New York, but ya gotta pick me up from D.C first," she grinned. "I'm not actually here you dummy." 

"I get that! How about you go up there on your own," I said. "What's stopping you?" 

"Like I said, dummy. There's a lot of dangerous people out there. I've been listening to your little radio for a while now. You're pretty good at fending off zombies I've seen. You seem like a good guy, I trust you." 

I felt lightheaded whenever she spoke to me, head in the clouds and all. I hadn't talked to anyone in so long and here she was today, flattering me. My mouth was full of doritos so I couldn't respond immediately. I gave a double thumbs up and turned the other way after getting a little too flustered. New York is far as hell. Gonna have to pack some of that long lasting junk like canned tuna and oreos. Do I need to hotwire a car? Do I know how to hotwire a car? Do I know how to open a can of tuna without a can opener? Do I know where the oreos are? Do I even have to go? With so many frustrations running through my mind I considered calling it quits, my heart thumping hard against my ribs with every confusing wave of thought. But there's other people out there. But who cares about other people, I've been fine on my own? But what if she's like… an apocalyptic brown scam caller and this is all fake? But what if it's real? But what if I get ripped apart by mutants and zombies on the way? I put on my, I'm so sorry face, wincing as I turned back to her. I got ready to put my foot down, put me first. "Hayati," I started. I looked into her eyes. Eyes with a deep piercing gaze, eyes with pupils dilated, eyes that expressed sincerity and sweetness. But what if… 

"Yeah?" she said, tilting her head and smiling a bit right at me. 

"Don't worry, you got the right guy," I said. Her smile opened up all the way.

As we finished stuffing my bag to the point that the zippers were most likely in excruciating pain, we made our way out the screeching, sliding doors of the walmart. Hayati had patched up the scratch on my leg. Gazing down at her wrapping work, I felt this eerie sense of bubbling excitement. It was symbolic to me. A long lasting mark, a bind that bound me to the heart of someone new. I was determined to make it to D.C. and to New York to repay the favor. All so that she could feel the same things I did then. 

I told her I needed a car with a pair of keys still there. She was already on it. A shining dart skipping about the parking lot. We were like well oiled gears gliding across one another seamlessly. Everytime I passed a nice sports car I'd pray they left a pair of keys in there but life's not ever that good is it? It never really is. 

After about the hundredth car, I'd peered through a minivan's window. A haunting shrill came before the ear piercing screech of fingernails dragging across the inside. It was a mom and two kids. Was. I just stood there as if the look of concern washed over my face was going to bring their humanity back out of them. They responded with head banging across the door, shaking the van, shaking their eyeballs out of their sockets. Whining like dogs. In my head, I thought about how they might've used to be like. It started off with a hallucination that their monstrous noises were simply them having a little family argument. Then my mind wandered off thinking maybe they were here to prepare a nice dinner for the night. And the siblings couldn't wait to see their dad when he came home from work. That car was probably filled with so much love. Love that I missed, dead now. A Feeling buried within me now resurfacing alive as ever all because of her. The purpose I longed so much for, the feeling that escaped words, one that I missed from before the whole zombie-era, one that was so rare even before then. I desired to chase after love. 

"Nasir, are you okay?" said Hayati. She kept an arms length distance, frozen and unsure what to do. But it wasn't because of the car, no. It was because I had tears dripping down my cheeks. 

I quickly brushed them off with my sleeve, sniffling a few times made it worse. The way she was looking at me like I was confusing her, man, I was embarrassed. "Yeah, sorry. It's been an emotional day, I guess," I said. "You found a whip yet?" I tried to play it cool. Hayati was ready to move on without asking any questions. I'm sure she'd seen some emotional stuff too. 

"No, and there's only a handful of cars left in the back over there. It's not looking too good," she said. 

"Relax, take it easy. I'm not gonna walk all the way to damn D.C. and besides, we'll find something. I'm sure." 

Unbeknownst to me, the next dozen cars would all be disappointments with no keys. All except one car sitting tucked away in the corner. It had blue racing stripes, out of place on its small buggy-like frame. Its dusty white paint job felt more like a corporate beige. Antennas stuck out from places you wouldn't expect. Cameras lined up across its body made you feel like you were being watched. It was like a project car but instead of it being made by weird loner dudes for racing, it was made by old tech bros for lord knows what. Hayati and I approached the strange amalgamation, a part of me hoping I would walk to another store and find a nicer car to drive. Cause there was no way I was driving that ugly thing. 

The engine roared, startling us. The headlights beamed on and the car pulled out of its parking spot

 "Good morning, passengers!" said the car.