Playlist for the Apocalypse

Chapter 11: Hazy Shade of Winter

JONATHAN

Jonathan marched out of the infirmary. He could hear Kells jogging to keep up behind him and trying unsuccessfully to convince him to stay in bed. Jonathan tuned him out. He'd always hated hospitals and the medical facility at River District was no different. The claustrophobic walls, the sterile white beds, the flickering fluorescent lighting— He needed to get out of there.

He had tried his best to conceal his condition but, once he'd gotten to the infirmary, there was no hiding the fact that he was still hyperventilating, and his heart was attempting a drum solo worthy of Led Zeppelin's "Moby Dick". Kells had proceeded to fuss over him... almost as much as Evie had... Evelyn.

Why did her name suddenly feel so long? And why did he keep trying to shorten it?

Though he did not want to admit it, the attention was comforting. No sooner had the thought appeared, did he immediately banish it from his mind. He had made his peace with the fact that he wasn't worth caring about. His father had made that point abundantly clear today... He wasn't sure why that had stung so much. They had stopped speaking a long time ago, but perhaps he had thought something might be said if he disappeared without explanation. He hadn't been expecting his father's whole personality to change, he wasn't that idealistic, but maybe some kind of acknowledgement.... He banished that thought from his mind too and surged forward.

He needed to find Evelyn. He had planned on sneaking her in through his hidden entrance, but before they'd even reached the nearest manhole cover, she'd tackled him and that whole debacle with Captain Singh, his father and Martha had played out. Now she was stuck in holding. She was...actually, he wasn't quite sure what she was to him. Perhaps the feeling he kept having was just a strange sort of obligation to help her, after all she had saved his life. He owed her. Once he'd repaid his debt, the feeling would go away.

"Seriously, Johnson," Kells pleaded, "you need to lie down or something, man."

Jonathan stumbled but kept walking. Whatever it was that Kells had given him was making his brain feel kind of foggy. They had entered the marketplace now and Jonathan blinked hard trying to reorient himself and, to a larger degree, remember where exactly he had planned on going. Every part of his body had suddenly decided to become heavier than normal, from his arms all the way to his feet, as if gravity was increasing on him with every step. He blinked again. His muscles felt limp and prickled with pins and needles. It tickled and he suppressed a laugh. He staggered into the middle of the square. The other survivors rushed past him in a blur.

His foot caught on one of the concrete tiles and he tumbled to the ground. It felt good to lie down. He rolled over until he was lying on his back. The other survivors took no notice of him and even Kells had been lost somewhere in the crowd. For a moment Jonathan just lay there watching the sky darken into night and the faces of the survivors melt together as they stepped over him. It was calming somehow. Peaceful even. If he just stopped existing right at this very moment, no one would have even noticed. A shiver rolled down his spine and he realized with a start that the thought scared him. All this time telling himself nothing mattered had been so comforting but now, why was it that it made him feel so afraid? Perhaps they were right, he was lost in life. All those horrible words he'd hear his father call him to the others—stuck, lacking, aimless—no one was here to shield him from those words now and each one felt like the hot blade of Evelyn's knife.

Evie.

The thought of her was like a shot of expresso, cutting through the fog in his mind. She would notice if he was gone. He'd made her a promise. He clambered rather ungracefully to his feet and nearly tripped again. Luckily, Kells' tall, lanky form seemed to materialize out of nowhere and caught him before he could fall.