Page 1 of Calico Descending

Chapter 1

Four years ago

“Do you hear the monsters, Calithea?”

At my nod, my mother strokes her fingers down my temple, as I lie tucked against the wall beside my younger sister, desperate to keep quiet.

“I can save them,” she continues. “The Lord, Jesus, has given me protection against them. He has sent me to heal them.”

Zaps of terror shoot down my spine. The madness settling over her confirms my worst fear: the bite she sustained two days ago, one we thought to be nothing more than a scratch, not deep enough to infect, has begun to transform her.

Even at fourteen, I’ve learned to identify the early stages of the Dredge—the disease that ravaged the world before I was born, and turned it into an arena of survival against the violently infected.

“Momma, please be quiet,” I whisper, to keep from waking my sister.

We need this rest. For two days, we’ve walked in scorching desert heat, with little to no water, or food. Somehow, we managed to stay ahead of the horde that raided our hive, but they’ve caught up to us now, and none of us have the energy to run.

“I won’t perish. For Jesus does not will it so.” Momma raises her chin toward the window beside us, her content smile that glows in the flicker of flames unfitting for the sounds of destruction outside.

We set fire to the buildings across from where we’ve taken shelter, in hopes of distracting the infected, and so far, it’s worked. The steel door at the opposite side of what Momma said was once a restaurant is the only barrier against the mob outside. Fortunately for us, the door leads out to the side of the building, hidden away from the Ragers, or I suspect they’d have already found their way in.

I tug at her arm more forceful than I intend. “Stay here, Momma. Stay with us.”

Vacant eyes scan over me, to my sister, Bryani, who breathes hard and hoarse in her sleep. “Your sister will come with me. I will return. You’ll see.” Setting a hand to my cheek, she strokes her thumb over my skin, and the glimmer of false hope in her eyes brings me to tears. “And when I do, the rot of the earth will be cleansed, and all will be made new again.”

Second by second, the illness ravages the strong and clever mother I’ve known my whole life. One who defended us against the Ragers that infiltrated our hive like insects, killing off entire families within minutes. Soon, my mother will be one of them, but I’m not ready for that yet.

I set my hand against the back of her palm that still holds my face and blink away the tears. “Please stay with us, Momma. Please.”

“Shhhh. Quiet now.” She pushes up onto her knees and reaches across me for Bryani.

Plagued by exhaustion, Bryani doesn’t even wake, when my mother manages to lodge her arms beneath my sister, and drags her closer. If not for her coarse breaths, I’d think her dead.

At ten years old, Bryani is too big for my mother’s weakened state, but her determination to sacrifice my sister alongside her is enough to make me grip tight to my sister’s midsection and yank her back to me. I hold her against me, while my mother attempts to pry her from my arms, her lips pressed to a flat line.

The warmth of her eyes sharpens with sudden irritation. “She is a believer, and therefore, God will save her. He will protect her. You, Calithea, will perish with all the other nonbelievers. Your souls will be sent to the lake of fire to burn.”

A sob tugs at the back of my throat, as I try to ignore my mother’s words. My muscles are weak and fatigued, trembling, and, still, I refuse to let go of my sister. “I love you, Momma.” The words wobble in my throat, and the struggle eases, as she stares back at me in what I pray is a moment of clarity.

Her gaze dips to Bryani, who blinks her eyes open and squints.

“Momma?” My sister rubs at her eyes.

A trembling hand touches my sister’s cheek, then mine, and my mother’s eyes shine with tears. “Wait for me, my loves. Wait for me here. I will return. You’ll see.”

As she pushes to a stand, Bryani shoots out of my arms, sitting upright. “No, Momma!”

She shouts it too loud, and I slap a hand over her mouth, watching my mother pad slowly toward the door of the abandoned building. Light slices over the darkness of our makeshift bed we made of a few old blankets from our old hive. Just as quickly as it arrived, the light fades with her exit of the building, as the door recloses.

Behind my palm, Bryani screams, and I feel trickles of warm tears gather at my fingers. Against the tug in my chest, I try not to let my fear take over. I stay quiet and listen, but at the heightened growls from outside, a silent sob pulses against my ribs, and my mother’s first screams have me tucking my face into Bryani’s hair, eyes tightly closed.

The sound that rips from her lungs is one straight out of a nightmare. “Save me, Father!” she screams, as I imagine the Ragers tearing into her flesh, ripping her skin from the bone. “Oh, God!”

I want to slap my hands over my ears, like my sister, but as Bryani’s scream vibrates against my skin, I know I can’t. I have no choice but to listen to the sounds of cracking and shredding, while they mutilate my mother.

“Calithea! Calithea!” she screams, and with more tears, I shake my head, allowing the smallest wail to leak past my lips.

Minutes pass. My mother goes silent. The growls die down.

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