Little Yellow Heart

The little yellow heart locket had tarnished over time, flaking off pieces of oxidized metal.

These little flakes left themselves everywhere he went, like little bread crumbs of proof that he had ever been alive at all.

None of the other members in this dysfunctional group of survivors knew who the picture was of in this locket. Morpheus assumed that it was a relative, or maybe a child that was lost a long time ago. No one thought it wise to flat out ask. Times were hard and everyone had memorabilia of the past on them they would rather not bring up.

“Jazba, be careful when you step up these stairs, they’re rotting apart!”

Inside of a derelict two-story house, on the outskirts of what once was Louisville Kentucky, four people were scouring through the remains of a bedroom.

“Stairs don’t scare me!” called back the person named Jazba. She had short blue hair, dark tan skin and a collection of weaponry hanging from her belt. Jazba was a rather contentious woman.

As she said this, her combat boot plunged hard into a soft piece of wood, trapping it. With a shriek, she twisted her ankle free and staggered up the rest of the stairway.

Jazba shook her head, dusting off her shoe and rubbing at her ankle through her pants.

“Told ya.” said Morpheus, who had warned her of the possible consequences. Jazba scowled at him, mumbling something about him being a pretentious know-it-all.

Another person behind Jazba and Morpheus popped their head out of the doorway frame of the bedroom. Flicking curly red hair out of their large green eyes, they asked, “I heard shoutin’, ya’ll good?”

Morpheus huffed, adjusting the strap of his rifle against his shoulder and ran a hand through his short brown hair. “Yeah, Jazba just twisted her ankle tryna be all ‘vigilante army woman’ again.”

Jazba punched him in the arm. “Did you guys find anything, Zip?” she asked the person in the doorway.

Zip nodded, beckoning with their hands. “Yeah, come check it out.”

The two stepped through the doorway into what was left of a little girl’s bedroom. Hardly recognizable through its faded pink painted walls. A jumbled mess of white sticks lay to a corner, possibly a long ago broken chair. Singed curtains fluttered near the open window. Darkened blankets covered a bed frame that had bent and cracked.

Almost all of it was caked in thick dark blood.

“What exactly we lookin’ for in this pile of shit?” Jazba demanded, trying to ignore the slight limp in her step now.

Zip pressed a finger up to their own mouth, pointing over to the fourth member of the group.

Grayson sat, slumped, at the head of the bed, holding something in his lap.

The three of them slowly approached, peeking over his shoulder.

Inside the man’s hands he held a small doll, a little white rabbit by the looks of it, torn in places and stained gray and brown. Grayson rubbed a thumb over it, deeply lost in thought.

No one made a sound until Morpheus gently cleared his throat and asked, “Is that all?” Grayson startled, peeking over his shoulder to the others and answering in a soft tone. “Sorry. No, we found other supplies.” Rising from his crouch, Grayson tucked the small rabbit toy into his pants pocket and tugged at a bag of something under the bed.

“Oh hell yeah!” Jazba exclaimed, clapping her hands together, she would have stomped her boots too if her ankle wasn’t hurting. Inside the sack was a large assortment of canned food, dried snacks, bottled water and even some basic medical supplies.

This was a godsend for anyone nowadays.

“Nice work!” Morpheus said, clapping Grayson on the back and grabbing for the sack to help him carry it out of the room and down the stairway. “Careful, the stairs.” Morpheus said sternly, flashing an accusatory glance to Jazba which she ignored.

As Grayson and Morpheus made their way out of the house, Zip and Jazba opened up the trunk to their cobbled together war truck. This thing was all black shining metal with big hay pitchforks welded to the front. The two men heaved the sack up into the back of the truck.

Dusting his hands off, Morpheus turned to Grayson and said. “You keepin’ that?” Grayson looked at the rabbit toy still in his pocket, stuffing spilling out of it and onto the ground.

“Oh, uh...yes.” Morpheus gave him a look of interest and said, “Alright but better make sure it ain’t infected.” Grayson nodded.

All four of them climbed up into the dark gleaming truck and started the engine.

Morpheus, being the driver, turned to Zip in the passenger seat. “What d’you think is up with Grayson?” He asked just above a whisper. Zip turned to glance back at Grayson, who was sitting in the very back, away from earshot.

“You mean why does he like dolls and stuff?” Zip shrugged their small shoulders. “I dunno, we all got something that’s comforting, ya know?” Morpheus watched Grayson in the rearview mirror, holding his little yellow locket and rubbing his hand across the rabbit toy stil. “Don’t shame a person for finding joy in anything, it’s hard to find, you should know that, Morpheus.” Zip waggled a freckled finger at him, furrowing their brow. “I’m not, Zip... I’m just...Trying to understand.” He glanced at Jazba, who had her leg propped up and was trying to rub at her ankle. “I gotta be careful and keep us all together.”

They had been traveling with Grayson for nearly ten months now. He was an agreeable enough fellow, quiet, but direct when need be and certainly a valuable ally.

Grayson was tall and built. Although not as muscular as Morpheus or even Jazba, Grayson had a sort of ‘stonelike’ quality to him. His whole body seemed to be covered with pink scars, and his hair was white blonde and short. The rest of the group had run into him in the Mark Twain National Forest. Jazba and Morpheus were wary that he might be infected or untrustworthy, but Zip right away tried to convince them to let Grayson join them on their travels.

“How long until Lexington?” Jazba asked from the middle row. “My ankle is killin’ me.”

“About forty minutes.” Morpheus called back.

The dusty countryside roared by, the sunlight eventually turning to dusk.

Lexington was an open camp for people to rest and refuel, a crumbling colosseum of buildings surrounding a sort of refuge. Although no one was there now, it felt safer than most cities.

Piling out of the vehicle, each person grabbed a sleeping bag and laid it around a small makeshift cooking fire.

The air filled with the smell of canned beans, heated over the flames.

It wasn’t the best tasting thing, but it was agreed that it was far better than roadkill.

“How’s the ankle?” Morpheus asked as he sat on a piece of shattered concrete next to Jazba.

She groaned. “It’s fine...I just hope we can get to Charlotte soon.”

There they were promised a place to actually live safely, and hopefully free from infection.

Morpheus frowned. “It’s gonna take a few more days before we can settle down there...will you be okay?” Jazba shrugged him off. But Morpheus kept an eye on her.

Grayson, sitting across from the two, opened the heart-shaped locket around his neck and looked into it.

Morpheus watched him from afar. The little girl in the locket looked back, as she always did, frozen in time with a small smile and dark brown hair framing her soft face.

“You’re always rubbing that locket and it’s chipping everywhere we go. Best be careful, we don’t wanna leave traces of DNA.” Grayson looked up to Morpheus, who had spoken and frowned. “Who is it, in the locket?” He asked the question everyone had been wondering. Grayson’s eyes turned somber and distant. “You don’t have to answer.” Morpheus redirected, turning over in his bedroll before saying, “G’night.” Grayson looked out at the setting sun. “Night.” he said back and shut his locket tight.

The smell must have attracted them, before anyone could so much as wake and slip on their shoes, there were shouts all around.

A few dozen masked people were crouched a couple hundred yards down the road and one was aiming a rifle at them.

Jazba opened fire first, yelling something about getting into the truck.

Morpheus jumped up, but getting his extremities caught in his bedroll, he fell into a small dip in the gravel beside the camp.

Jazba was falling back, limping towards the vehicle.

Grayson was trying to load their things back up.

The bullet whizzed right past Morpheus, making his heart leap into his throat. It missed him by an inch, and he heard a yell. Turning, Morpheus saw Grayson clutching his side. “Shit, Grayson!”

Suddenly another gunshot rang out. Morpheus feared the worst, but as his ears rang, he looked around to see Zip standing with a shotgun in their hands.

“Get up!” They yelled, small arms reaching down. Morpheus stood, hobbling out of the ditch he had tumbled down into. “Where is-?” He began to ask, but Zip cut him short when they yelled something Morpheus couldn’t understand.

The truck had rolled up to them, roaring like a wild animal.

Grayson was beside them now, his shirt stripped off, wrapped around his middle and breathing hard as he held his side still.

Morpheus blinked his eyes, trying to find meaning in what he saw.

From Grayson’s fingers pressed to his wound poured a white silver liquid.

“What the fuck is that?” Morpheus asked.

Grayson grabbed Morpehus around the waist before he could respond, lifting him up and into the back of the truck.

The three of them huddled in the back of the bed together as it sped away from Lexington.

Zip hurried over to Grayson, kneeling down and asking if he was alright.

Grayson groaned and looked up, the yellow locket clutched in his slippery palm. “It’s me.”

He held the heart locket out to them as he said this. “Don’t forget about me.” Grayson looked desperately at the both of them, eyes flickering with a seeming light.

Zip reached out and took the locket, which was coated in the white liquid still seeping from Grayson’s side.

“I was only 6 when they took my neural processing core from my brain and grew it around a mechanical body.” Grayson continued, jerking violently and spazzing against the back of the cushion he was leaning on. “What you see before you now...is a fake body. A fake identity. I never got to know the little girl I was...I don’t even remember her name.” Grayson retrieved the rabbit from his pocket, and looked at the two of them with tears in his eyes. “I wish I could go back. I lost something I never even came to understand.” Zip and Morpheus gazed down at the photo of the little girl held inside the heart locket.

Then they stared at Grayson, unsure how to respond after learning the truth. Zip spoke first. “I am so sorry.”

Morpheus simply said. “We’re here for you.”

There was prolonged silence, the growl of the truck engine humming loudly.

Grayson attempted to sit up, hissing as he did so, but Zip scolded him to stay seated. “We’ll take care of you. Let me treat that wound. Don’t move.” The vehicle around them rumbled.

“Who’s driving?” Morpheus asked. “Jazba. We’ll be to Charlotte soon.” Zip retrieved a pack of med supplies and sat it beside Grayson. They smiled rather weakly, looking between the two of them and said, “It’s been a long journey, but we’ll make it.”