As soon as Lex started moaning, Fallon folded a cloth into squares and nudged it into his mouth. She had done this hundreds of times before, but tonight he seemed to be especially out of it. When she forced herself to look at his face, sweat was pouring down his forehead and his eyes were cloudy.
“I know it hurts, little brother. Just bite down and try not to make a sound,” she whispered, mouth so close to his ear she could feel it twitch. She shuddered and backed away, pressing down on the urge to gag. They were laying side by side on yet another dusty wooden floor, settled atop layer after layer of musty blankets. Fallon was thankful that a pile had been left behind -- usually Quarantined houses were completely empty. This house seemed particularly run of the mill -- three bedrooms, two baths, and only a handful of leftover belongings that the government hadn’t confiscated for themselves.
They couldn’t stay in one for too long -- usually no more than two or three days. Police officers were sent to check sealed off houses for squatters every week. Fallon never knew when an inspection would be done, so she and her brother had to keep on their toes. Thankfully they could move freely and without suspicious in the daytime.
“I can go look for some medicine. We forgot to check the bathroom upstairs,” Fallon said. He moaned again. She ran her fingers through her brother’s hair; it was growing longer by the day, bangs now hanging past his eyes. When he moaned again, louder this time, her grip tightened. His hair was the one thing on his head that didn’t change -- the one thing she was never disgusted to touch.
“Cry into the ground, if you have to,” she said. His face was half-hidden underneath the blankets, so she pulled them up more to cover his mouth. “It’ll hide your face, too.” She wished immediately that she hadn’t said that. If they were caught, the authorities would see it regardless.
“You hate me,” he said, breath rattling with each word. She resisted telling him to quiet down.
“I would never hate you. You’re the only thing I have left. I love you so much, Lex.” They stared at each other, for what Fallon felt stretched into days.
“You hate me at night.”
She had no reply to that. Ashamed, she kneeled, and turned away from him. “I’m going to look for medicine. You stay here and don’t move, okay?”
“Okay. Don’t go by any windows,” he said.
“I’ll be back soon. Try to fall asleep and before you know it, it’ll be morning, okay?”
Lex nodded and turned onto his stomach, hiding his disfigured face. Fallon paused, then turned away to find the bathroom.
As she crawled through the musty hallway, yellow tape glinted in the moonlight, casting bright patches of light through the windows. She could read the word “Quarantine” very clearly, and still -- after nearly two years -- it felt like a declaration of war. Her parents had been locked away because of it, and now… she was cast away with her brother, doomed to hide from the rest of society for the rest of their lives.
She painstakingly climbed each stair on her knees, then located the bathroom. It was nearly impossible to see inside, but she couldn’t risk turning on a flashlight. Fallon cautiously rose to her feet, then fumbled around for a second before eventually knocking her hand against a metal handle.
She sighed in relief and swung it open. She only had to fumble for a moment before her fingers closed around several pill bottles. She grinned in triumph just as a loud bang sounded from downstairs.
For a second, she was quite literally frozen. Then, she bolted down the stairs and toward her brother as fast as possible. She could only think, this is it. We’ve been found. It’s still night, he’s still transformed, there’s nothing I can do. No, no, no…
She was grabbed roughly from her left side just before she got to where she’d last seen her brother. Fallon screamed wordlessly and desperately kicked to escape his grip. She was cuffed so tightly the metal cut into her wrists and dragged outside of the Quarantined house.
They shoved her onto her knees when they reached the front yard. She spit grass from her mouth and flipped over, breathing harshly as she stared into the judgmental faces of the men above her. She didn’t say anything, though -- she knew whatever words left her mouth would be used against her later. Three police cars were parked haphazardly around her -- one on the curb, two half on the grass. Their lights were off. Makes sense, she thought dully. Patrols wouldn’t want to alert squatters they were coming.
“Fallon!” She whirled over in the direction of his voice to see a burly man with a gun forcing Lex out of the house. The gun pushed into the back of his skull glinted from the shine of a nearby officer’s flashlight. She tore her gaze from the gun to her brother’s face. Her heart beat loud enough she could feel the blood rush through her head. This was the first time she’d directly seen his face at night in over a year.
It was leathery and pig-like. His nose was snout-like, his eyes squinched up into slits, and it was… not as horrifying as she remembered. The officers clearly disagreed -- the men around her had their guns out, pointed directly at Lex as if he was some sort of monster.
“Please,” she begged, unable to bear the tense silence any longer. “Please, he’s harmless. You can take us to a disease center but -- but the the disease isn’t deadly. You know that! It just changes your face at night! Please!” Fallon sounded hysterical, but she was far past caring.
Click.
“NO!” Fallon screamed, lurching forward to knock the loaded gun from the officer’s hands. She was caught before she made it three feet. Lex was all she had.
She broke down, sobbing and screeching in the officer’s arm as Lex trembled on the grass, arms clutched protectively around his stomach as he gazed into her eyes.
It was a goodbye.
“The Diseased who do not turn themselves in immediately after realizing they are sick are to be executed upon their discovery,” the commander said tonelessly. Fallon choked as he pressed the butt of his gun against Lex’s forehead. He flinched, but didn’t make a sound.
So brave, she thought, falling limp. Lex’s deformed face twisted further, his snout-like nose scrunching and stretching in misery. Fallon wondered numbly if he would have felt less pain in his final moments, if only she could have given him some of the medication she’d found in the bathroom.
Bang.
