Fetch

Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky.

Radiation’s a bitch like that, sometimes, Leo thought.

As the moon shone behind dense purple clouds, the shadows cast on downtown Atlanta were haunting and, at this point, pretty commonplace. Leo, a tall man, moved nimbly and hastily through the bodies on the sidewalk; he wore a hat with the brim pulled down, a charcoal hoodie with the hood pulled up, and a medical face mask on his face. No sunglasses, however; that level of incognito would have been a bigger giveaway than if he’d worn nothing at all. At a stop light, waiting for the crossing signal, a few eyes caught his, and they knew. They grimaced and shifted away from him, pulled their small children behind and away from him. He noticed, but he looked straight ahead. It’d be better to not draw attention to himself.

The “walk” signal flashed and he began to cross; everyone behind him gave him a wide berth and let him cross in front. He kept his stride all the way to the corner of the block where a 24-hour pharmacy lit up the night, the fluorescent lights highlighting the purple hue of the clouds. He entered, and a loud BING sounded as he crossed through the theft detectors and into the store. No one paid any attention to him, but the heavy dress of the man gave every indication that he didn’t belong.

Leo made his way through the aisles slowly; he knew where he needed to go, but going there immediately may have drawn attention his way, so he perused the aisles looking for imaginary things. Though this was once a store booming with medicine, it was now a glorified convenience store and make-up plaza. Aisles upon aisles of skin care, moisturizer, cover-up, blush, prosthetics. Any way you wanted to disguise who you truly were was available for a steep mark-up. At the end of the aisle stood a woman who turned and looked at Leo. The entirety of her body, including half of her skull with hair missing, was covered in burn scars. She wore a beautiful blue-flowered blouse with a white flowing skirt, and there was a gap of missing flesh on her left cheek with exposed bone and dental work showing through. Her eyes were distressed, the whites a magenta hue and glazed with a transparent white film. She looked at him, seeing clean tan flesh and bright white eyes under the hood and above the mask, and she startled.

“Urrgggghhh,” she scoffed and stepped back, “Oh my god, why are you even on this aisle?” she yelled.

“Excuse me,” he mumbled, lowering the brim of his hat so she couldn’t see.

“Why do they even let you people in here?” she growled at him, “Don’t you have your own area to shop? Why bother us?”

He dropped the pretense and began moving right to his intended goal; keeping a low profile was a long shot anyways. He passed the unending aisles of makeup, then snacks and electronics, all the way to the back marked “Medicine.” He turned the corner and, unsurprisingly yet still devastating, all the shelves were empty, signs marked “Out of Stock” lining each shelf. He knew this would likely be the case, yet still, he hoped. That hope was all he could muster. Leo sighed, his shoulders slumped, and he worked very hard not to weep in the empty aisle. He took a deep breath, exhaled deeper, and turned to walk to the front counter.

At this time of night, the store was relatively empty; those still out were out for a reason, typically to dance, party, enjoy the nightlife. The pharmacies were open 24-hours to cater to those who needed a quick touch-up on the way to the club, and essentially for no other reason. The clerk at the front didn’t hide her obvious boredom. Being here at this hour was clearly a waste of her time. She wore a disheveled white collared shirt, clearly part of the store’s uniform, tucked into black slacks and her sleeves were rolled up, showing her decaying, grayish skin and the vertical scars on her wrists running up the inside of her arms. She wore no makeup, so the dark rings under her eyes, the gray flesh in her face, and the red, glazed eyes she wore like a badge of honor.

“What do you want, pulser?” she lowered her chin but raised her eyes at him.

“No need to be rude,” Leo replied.

“I see a pulser, I call you a pulser. Nothing rude about it.”

“Fine, you fetch,” Leo growled at her.

“You say ‘fetch’ like it’s a bad thing. I’m proud to be a fetch. We all are. You are the one who should be ashamed,” she said, nonchalantly. A piece of separated flesh split and dangled from her bottom lip.

“Okay,” he settled his tone. He knew he wasn’t going to win this argument, “Do you have any more actual medicine? Or do you know where I could find it?”

She placed both her hands on the counter and exhaled a groan of annoyance. Her breath washed over Leo and it smelled of death and rot. “No medicine over in the pulser area?”

Leo gagged, regained his composure, and gave her a look of clear annoyance, “Clearly, not. Everything has been sold out for weeks. I thought that maybe this fetch store would have something.”

She laughed, “Why would we have anything? We don’t get sick. We don’t die.”

“You’re already dead,” Leo spat.

“So why would we need medicine? Sounds like a pulser problem to me. I don’t know when we’ll restock, and frankly, I doubt we will. I figure any day now we’ll get the memo from corporate to tear down the section down there and make it, like, the Valentine’s seasonal section or something.”

“What about us? What about those of us who still have a pulse?”

“Why would we care about you? You choose to have a pulse. You could be one of us today if you just had the balls. Take the plunge, pulser.” She massaged the vertical scars on her wrists and smiled, “Trust me: it was the best decision I ever made.”

“The medicine isn’t for me,” he made a pretty clear face at her, “It’s for my daughter. She’s sick.”

“Sick from what?”

“What do you think?” he glared resentfully at the doors to the outside and their unnatural shade of purple.

“So why are you trying so hard to stop it? Maybe death is what’s best for her.”

“How can that possibly be true?” Leo choked out the words. “How can God… the universe… Fate… whatever… how can death be in nature’s design?”

“Look at you, man,” she smiled, almost with a look of genuine concern in her scarlet eyes, “You’re tired. Drained. Stressed. Now look at me. We don’t get sick. We don’t age. We don’t feel pain. We don’t hunger; we eat if we want to, because we want to. And we don’t eat brains. That’s just your pulser propaganda. How old is your daughter?”

“Twelve.”

“Wouldn’t you like to be twelve forever?”

“Not if it means becoming a fetch.”

Her sincerity faded with the insult, “Well, I’m not some pulser hiding to walk around in public now, am I? Sorry, I’m wrong; clearly you’re living your best life. But if you ask me, you’re being a bad father. Your daughter is on a path to becoming meaningful, and you’re moving heaven and earth trying to prevent her from becoming who she really is.”

“What do you know? You’re a third-shift clerk at a pharmacy, and your face is falling off.”

“And yet, who is hiding their face in public? Get out, pulser.”

He stared at her, and when she made a move for the phone next to her, he pulled up his hood and walked back out into the streets.

He walked the next few miles out of the city and into the slums, coughing against the purple fog that had begun clinging to the ground. Outside of the city, the pharmacies and the clinics were either ransacked or boarded up. Leo was out of options now, and he decided the best he could do was go back to his daughter and comfort her in her last moments. Not needing to hide his face, he removed the mask, hat, and hood, and he walked to a door leading into an abandoned apartment complex. Vermin raced through his legs as he walked, climbing the stairs to the third floor, to the locked door in the furthest corner. Before he could even reach the door, he could hear the guttural hacking and wheezing of his daughter through the thin panel door.

“Jemma, how are you doing, baby girl?” Leo closed and turned the lock behind him.

All she could manage was a soft smile and a gurgle from her throat. She saw his empty hands and his sad demeanor and knew. He went to her bedside and pulled her into his arms. He cried softly, but he held his sobs in; he had to be strong for her. He pulled away and carefully moved her neck so that he could see into her eyes.

“Jemma, it isn’t going to be long now, baby, but you don’t have to be afraid. Before… all of this… this stuff was scarier. This kind of thing meant goodbye. We weren’t sure where we went when our hearts stopped beating. But now? Now we know. You don’t have anything to be afraid of. The first thing you see when you open your eyes will be me, and I’ll love you no matter what.”

Her smile faded; the look in her eyes was all he needed to know that she was not comforted.

“I’m afraid. For me. I love you more than anything else in this world, and losing you terrifies me. You just have to try your best, Little Bear; try your best to remember me. Don’t leave me. Don’t wake up being somebody else. All of us are just trying to cling to the lives we’ve lived. Don’t become someone else, please? I love you too much. Please be my daughter when you open your eyes again. You’re not going to be able to hold onto your life, but please hold onto your soul. That’s who you are.”

A tear fell from her eyes and she nodded, almost imperceptibly, her chin with understanding. But even this much effort triggered a cough, and then another, and then an avalanche of coughing and choking and wheezing and gasping until… until there was nothing. Leo waited, watched in the silence. He held his breath. Then, when he couldn’t any longer, he gasped and wept. He wept powerfully; his body shuddered and spasmed. He cried out until his throat was dry and raw. And finally, he sat. He stared. He watched the color slowly drain from her face and arms. He watched as the tears that filled her beautiful open eyes slowly dried away. He reached a hand to her face and wiped the tears, the last tears she’ll ever shed. His lip quivered as he touched her colorless cheek for the last time. And finally, slowly, he closed her eyes.

A moment later, and her eyes were open again.

They were pink, bloodshot, and a milky haze was climbing across her pupils. She groaned, first softly, then growing in bass and volume. She sat up, a struggle, and she moved her back and joints backwards and forwards, collecting herself. She continued to groan as she stood from the bed, and Leo stood alongside her.

“Jemma? Little Bear?” Leo asked pleadingly.

She coughed again at the peak of her stretch, “Dang, that sucked.” She turned and looked at her father, and even stretched tall she didn’t quite reach his shoulders.

“Jemma?” he asked again.

She looked up and into his eyes, and her face couldn’t hold back her disgust. She shrugged away from him. His heart sank in his chest. He tried to cry, but he had nothing left; he simply squatted before her, burying his face in his hands. She reached out hesitantly and briefly patted his shoulder once, twice, and that was all she could take.

“Look, Leo… Dad… I appreciate you trying your best. But you don’t need to worry. I’m good now,” she turned and started to make her way to the door.

“Jemma, no,” he shouted, but his words were weak. He knew they meant nothing.

“Okay, I’m leaving, and you need to be okay with that. I’ve figured out who I am now, Leo. I’ve become who I’m meant to be.”

“But what about me?” he begged.

She stopped. Hesitated. She opened the door and looked back at him. Not with her eyes, however; she couldn’t bring herself to look him in his eyes, “The world isn’t meant for you anymore. However much you thought you meant to it… it’s moved on. Without you. The world isn’t meant for the living anymore. The sooner you figure that out, the happier you’ll be.”

“Pulser.” The door closed behind her.