Kitten

It is 5:36pm on a Sunday. The sun is beginning its path down past the horizon line and it is casting long shadows across the city. There is an eeriness on the air and an audible moaning sound on the wind. Aaren is sitting on the edge of a rooftop, his head resting on the hilt of a shotgun. Exhaustion threatens to let his head drop but determination keeps it up. His clothing is tattered and blood drenched. His muscles cry out for rest but he can not. He can hear a shuffling sound on the streets below. He knows what that means but is too wary to be overly concerned. Zombies are walking the streets of his once pleasant city.

Aaren looks down at his legs, dangling over the edge of the roof. One shoe is missing and he doesn’t even remember where or when he lost it. He can hear the crunch of glass below him and he knows what that means. They are done feeding on the corpse of the only woman he ever loved. He had been too late to prevent her death.

As soon as he had realized what was happening, when the outbreak had begun, he only had one thought in his mind. He had to get to Joss. He starts picturing her face. Her perfect nose and her bangs covering her eyes. But he stops himself. He thinks about the grass he is staring at instead because he already feels the tears beginning to roll down his cheeks. He knows that he can’t afford to express everything pent up in his chest because if he does then they will know where he is and they will come for him too. Though he starts to think that it might not be so bad. He has no ties to this world now and death, apart from the panic that thought brings, would free him from this nightmare. If he wasn’t so scared of dying that would be an option. If he wasn’t equally afraid of being eaten alive or worse, becoming one of them then it would be an option.

Looking down, Aaren sees the clutch of undead slowly exit the building, clamoring over the window frame and out towards the street. He doesn’t want to go into the house. He doesn’t want to see her remains. The sun finally sets beneath the cityscape and the clouds above him light up. Aaren stands up and walks across the roof to the back of the house. He leans over the roof and looks down. He lowers his shotgun down and lets it fall onto the lawn. Then he lowers himself down and drops. Gun in hand, Aaren enters the house despite his predilections to the contrary.

The smell of death is overwhelming and Aaren pulls his shirt over his nose for fear of throwing up. He never imagined that the smells would be so atrocious. He had always imagined the sights would be gory and the sounds would be frightening but it was the smells that threw him off. He leans his head around the corner and sees her feet and immediately retreats. He doesn’t want to see her like this. He wants to remember her as he loved her. Aaren backs into the wall behind him and slumps to the ground.

Josselyn’s house was always so tidy. Aaren can hardly tell that there was even a scuffle here. The table is still standing with candles on top. Aaren takes a deep breath. And in the quiet between breaths and over his own heartbeat he hears a scratching coming from Joss’s room. Panic grips his already tight chest. Aaren quickly stands up and grabs his shotgun. He creeps down the hall, his brain screaming to run. Pictures of him and Joss line the walls but all Aaren can stare at is the door. As he gets closer he listens. The scratching comes again and then a small chirp and a wave of relief washes over him. He flings the shotgun over his shoulder and throws open the door.

Just as he suspected he sees a frightened kitten staring up at him. She seems to show signs of recognition and brushes up against Aaren. He sighs and picks her up and cradles her. Aaren was not a pet person and objected to the purchase of Mrs. Kisses. He had this fear that somehow the responsibility would end up falling on him. And though there was no way he could have accounted for a zombie apocalypse he can’t help acknowledge the irony. But right now, this kitten is all he has left of her.

Aaren embraces Mrs. Kisses and imagines Joss and then the sadness he has been holding back is unleashed. Aaren starts bawling and holding the kitten tightly. Mrs. Kisses squirms and jumps to the floor and dashes out of the room. Aaren slams his hand against the wall and moans but no words come out. He lets it all come out and when he thinks there’s no more he vomits as well and feels a little better.

Now, slightly more mentally composed Aaren goes after the kitten. At least he can protect one life other than his own. He goes back into the living room and sees the kitten batting at the Joss’s motionless feet. He has but a moment to pity himself and the kitten until he notices Joss’s leg twitch The kitten backs away. Oh god no, Aaren thinks, they didn’t finish her. He grips his shotgun and backs away. He whispers to the kitten because he can’t work up his voice. “Come on Mrs. Kisses, come on.” The kitten is unaware and playing coy and Aaren is frustrated and wants to be anywhere but here as soon as possible. “Come on!”

Joss begins to stand up, her legs scrape against the carpet. Oh no, oh no. Panic grips Aaren. He didn’t want to see her dead and he certainly doesn’t want to see her undead. He makes a grab for the kitten who dashes away playfully and then its too late. Joss’s beautiful face is marred and pale. Her skin is torn and her eyes are partially rolled back. But she stands up and looks toward Aaren. In his panic he can’t separate Joss from this monster that has taken her place. Aaren stumbles backward and bumps into the couch. Joss leaps toward him and Aaren can’t shoot her because the part of him that loves her overrides the rational part screaming that its not her anymore. He manages to roll off the couch as Joss pounces. Aaren sees Mrs. Kisses standing across the room looking frightened by the commotion. In that Moment, Aaren convinces himself that Joss is gone, but that if any of her still exists, it's in the love she had for that kitten and not buried somewhere in this undead shell. So as Joss leaps towards him, Aaren pulls the trigger and puts her to rest once more.

* * *

Aaren is standing atop another roof. Days have passed and he is filled with a renewed vigor. He has a backpack full of supplies and he is ready to travel until he, well he’s not sure what he’s looking for but whatever it is, he knows he’s not going to find it here. He looks up at the kitten on his shoulder and reaches to scratch under her chin. He’s going to protect this kitten at all costs. No more mistakes. Aaren shoulders his shotgun and begins his journey.

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Kitten was written by Daniel Weinell and illustrated by Maribel Navarro.