heavenward | n.scatorccio

The group was still reeling from Laura Lee's death. Conversations were short, clipped, or nonexistent altogether. The light banter that had sometimes broken up the tension of the apocalypse was nowhere to be found.

No one laughed, no one joked, no one even seemed to look at each other for more than a second. They carried her loss like a shared chain, its cold links biting into their skin, pulling tighter with every step, dragging them closer to collapse.

The sports hall was a graveyard of noise, every little sound amplified in the oppressive quiet that followed by the events of yesterday. The clink of a can being nudged by someone's boot. The faint rustle of Jackie trying to quietly pull her hair into another ponytail. Shauna's sniffles, muffled in her sleeve. Julianna couldn't meet anyone's eyes, not that they were looking at her.

Everyone's gazes drifted to the floor or wandered along the walls, seeking solace in their stillness, as the unspeakable truth lingered, taut and electric, threading itself through the silence.

Julianna sat in her usual corner, back pressed against the wall, knees drawn to her chest, and her head bent low, staring at the peeling paint of her bandage. Her arm was covered all the way up to her elbow, the fabric fraying at the edges. It was already soaked with sweat and dirt, the fibers itchy against her skin, but she left it as it was.

Two days. Two full days since the bite.

And she was still here.

It didn't make sense. By now, she should have turned. That's what all the stories said, anyway. A few hours, maybe twelve at most, and then the infected would take over. But she hadn't. She hadn't felt anything—no fever, no hunger, no strange urges. Her heart still beat. Her mind was still her own.

But for how long?

She couldn't stop thinking about Laura Lee's body dissolving in the rain, the way her skin had sloughed off like wax paper, her screams cutting through the storm like a blade. Why hadn't the rain burned Julianna too? Why was she fine? No one had asked her about it, not yet. Maybe they were too afraid to dig into another unanswered question. Or maybe they just didn't want to talk about anything at all.

Despite it starting yesterday, the rain had only stopped hours ago, leaving only its eerie aftermath: black streaks on the pavement outside, a sickly iridescent glow pooling in the puddles, and the undeniable absence of Laura Lee. Her absence was louder than any scream.

"Hey," Misty's voice broke through, sharp and grating but full of energy, like she was determined to keep her spirits high no matter how bleak everything was, even if it was forced. "You ready?"

Julianna looked up. Misty was standing a few feet away, her ever-present clipboard tucked under her arm and a cheery, almost manic smile plastered on her face. She had a way of being unnervingly upbeat, even now.

Especially now.

"For what?" Julianna asked, her voice low and scratchy. She hadn't spoken much in the past day.

Misty huffed, hands on her hips. "For the mission, of course. The AV Club room. Remember?" She leaned in conspiratorially, like it was some grand, top-secret plan only the two of them were in on. "We need to find some tools and equipment so we can boost the signal on the radio. You know, for the Kansas City group."

Julianna blinked slowly, forcing herself to stand. Her limbs felt heavy, like her body was trying to keep her in place, weighed down by the endless questions running circles in her head. But Misty was already halfway to the door, expecting her to follow. With a sigh, Julianna grabbed a crowbar and trudged after her.

The hallways of the school were silent, save for the faint scuff of their shoes against the tile. The fluorescent lights flickered faintly, buzzing in the stillness.

Outside the broken windows, the world was gray and lifeless, the puddles from the rain catching slivers of light in their shimmering, toxic pools.

"So," Misty said, breaking the silence as they turned a corner. "Do you think they'll make it to Kansas City?"

Julianna shrugged, her grip tightening on the weapon in her hand. "I don't know. It's a long shot, isn't it?"

"Sure, but everything's a long shot these days," Misty replied, her voice unreasonably upbeat.
"I think they've got a good chance. Plus, if we get the radio working, they'll be able to check in and let us know they're alive, and that's good!"

Julianna glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. Misty was practically bouncing as she walked, her blonde curls following the same movement, but her facial expression was more somber than usual, she was thinking about yesterday too. She was carrying her modified bat, the one with nails hammered into the wood, cradling it like some kind of prized possession. It seemed she did that with all her weapons.

"You're awfully positive today," Julianna muttered.

"Why shouldn't I be?" Misty said, smiling a little. "We're on a mission! And we're gonna make progress. I don't know about you, but I'm tired of sitting around feeling sad. At this point we are all gonna need to be put on SSRI's. Except thats not possible because—you know, the apocalypse"

Julianna didn't respond. It wasn't that she disagreed—it was suffocating, being in that room with everyone and their grief enveloping her, tangible and suffocating, like unseen hands closing in around her.

Yet Misty's energy was exhausting in its own relentless way, a sharp contrast that only deepened Julianna's weariness, a reminder of how grief guts people differently, leaving some hollow and others thrashing in the spill. She had seen Misty yesterday, as in much of a state as the rest, though today she wore pretense like a fragile shield, as if the cracks weren't already showing.

They walked in silence for a few moments before Misty spoke again, her tone more casual. "Hey," she said after a pause, her tone shifting slightly. "How are you holding up? You've been, I don't know... quieter than usual."

"I'm okay," she said quickly, too quickly.
"Just tired. Same as everyone else."

Misty gave her a look, one of those looks that said she didn't believe her but wasn't going to press the issue just yet. It was strange how quickly Misty had learned to read her, considering how recently they'd actually started talking. Julianna also wasn't a very good liar.

Misty tilted her head, watching her carefully. "You sure?"

Julianna forced a shrug. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

Misty didn't respond right away, her gaze flicking briefly to Julianna's bandaged arm before darting back to her face.

Julianna felt her stomach twist. She hated the way Misty could see things, notice things other people didn't. It was unnerving. But she also didn't force the answer out of her, which was more than she could say for most people.

"Okay," Misty said finally, her voice light again. "But, you know, you can talk to me if you want. About anything."

Julianna nodded, though she didn't say anything.
They were interrupted by the sound of shuffling footsteps outside the room.

"Shit," Julianna muttered, gripping her crowbar tightly.

Misty's eyes ignited with a strange cocktail of fear and excitement, a flicker that danced disconcertingly.

"Infected?" she whispered, as though the word itself was forbidden and thrilling all at once.

"Probably," Julianna said, inching toward the door. "Stay behind me."

But, of course, Misty didn't stay behind
her.

Two infected stumbled out of a nearby classroom, their movements jerky and unnatural.

One was a man in a tattered suit, his neck twisted at an impossible angle, the skin around his mouth torn away to reveal bloody teeth and a broken jaw. The other was another teenage girl in what was once a cheerleading uniform, her left arm hanging by a thread of muscle.

The man lunged first, his movements erratic but fast. Without hesitation, Julianna swung her crowbar with practiced precision, the metal colliding with the side of his head.

His skull caved in with a sickening crunch, and he crumpled to the ground.

The cheerleader followed, letting out a guttural snarl as she reached for Misty.

"Hey, hey, watch it!" Misty feigned offence, stepping back just out of reach.

"Duck!" Misty shouted, and Julianna dropped just in time for Misty to swing her baseball bat, the nails tearing through the infected girl's face in a spray of blood and bone.

Julianna wiped her crowbar on her jeans, trying not to focus on the dark stains that were quickly becoming a permanent part of her wardrobe.

"You know," Misty said, nudging the girl's body with her foot. "We make a pretty good team."

She was fairly sure Misty was gonna say that every time they fought off infected.

Julianna gave a half-hearted laugh. "Sure. Whatever you say."

"I mean it!" Misty insisted, her grin wide and genuine. "We're like... partners. Survivors. Besties."

Julianna paused, her chest tightening at the word. It wasn't something she'd ever associated with herself. She'd had acquaintances, people she worked with in class, people she sat next to at lunch. But a best friend? That was uncharted territory.

Misty didn't seem to notice her discomfort, continuing on as if the word hadn't been a grenade lobbed into Julianna's psyche.

"Anyway," Misty said, skipping ahead a few steps. "The AV room's just down the hall. Let's get this done!"

Julianna followed, her grip tightening on her crowbar. Despite herself, she found her lips twitching upward into a smile.

The door to the AV club room was jammed, naturally. Julianna leaned her weight against it as Misty tried to wiggle the knob, chattering about how the AV room was 'basically the brains of the whole school.' Eventually, with a sharp crack and a coordinated shoulder shove from Julianna, the door swung open.

The room smelled faintly of dust and old electronics. Rows of shelves lined the walls, cluttered with outdated projectors, tangled wires, and dusty microphones. A large analog radio sat in one corner, its dials worn but intact, while a corkboard sagged under a mess of old club notices and schedules.

"Look at this place!" Misty exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "It's a goldmine!"

Julianna scanned the room, a little overwhelmed by the sheer amount of stuff. "If by 'goldmine' you mean 'mess,' then sure."

Misty, undeterred, began rifling through one of the shelves, pulling out cables and examining them like she was on a treasure hunt. "Come on, Jules, where's your sense of adventure? We're like two protagonist's in an apocalypse movie!"

Julianna arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "I don't think that's what this is."

"Okay, fine," Misty said, grinning. "If we survive this and in, like, thirty years they make a movie about us, I want to be played by someone like Keri Russell, only it cant be her because she'll be too old. You know, with her curly blonde hair. I could totally pull that off, right?"

Julianna snorted, shaking her head as she crouched near a pile of equipment. "Sure, Misty. Keri Russell. Dream big."

"And you," Misty continued, pointing a finger at Julianna, "should be played by someone like Natalie Portman. You've got that whole vibe, but, like, in a good way."

Julianna smiled, shaking her head as she untangled a mess of wires. "Why would they even make a movie? There's not much story to tell."

Misty spun around, looking at her like she'd just said something completely ridiculous. "Uh, hello? The girl who was immune, duh?"

Julianna froze, her fingers tightening around the cable in her hands. "We don't know that," she muttered, her voice low.

"It's been two days, Jules. You should've turned 36 hours ago. You look fine to me." She pushed the nose of her glasses up with a single finger, her eyebrows arching high.

Julianna looked away, her chest tightening. "That doesn't mean anything. For all we know, it just... takes longer."

Misty dropped what she was holding and walked over to her, crouching beside her. For a moment, her face softened, her usual overeager mask slipping. "Or maybe it means you're special."

Julianna scoffed, shaking her head. "There's nothing special about me, Misty."

"Don't say that," Misty said, her voice firm. "You don't know what you're capable of yet. None of us do. The rain didn't so much leave a burn mark on you, compared to what it did to Laura Lee."

Julianna didn't reply, instead focusing on the equipment in front of her. She didn't have the energy to argue with Misty's relentless defense of her own-self.

After an hour of searching, they found a small hand-crank generator buried under a pile of broken headphones. It was rusted and old, but after a little fixing, it seemed like it might still work.

"Okay," Julianna said, inspecting the wiring. "If we can hook this up to the radio and boost the signal, it might actually work. But we'll need a steady power source, and this crank won't last forever."

"Let's try it anyway," Misty suggested, already dragging the radio over.

They worked together, Misty holding wires in place while Julianna connected them. For all her eccentricity, Misty was surprisingly focused when it came to practical tasks, and Julianna couldn't help but admire her precision.

"Almost there," Julianna muttered, twisting one of the connectors into place.

Misty leaned closer, squinting at the dials. "Okay, try it now!"

Julianna gave the crank a few turns, and the radio sputtered to life, emitting a burst of static. Both girls froze, staring at it. Then, faintly, a garbled voice came through the speakers, distorted but unmistakably human.

"Holy shit," Julianna breathed.

Misty let out a shriek of triumph, throwing her arms around Julianna in an unexpected hug. "We did it! We actually did it!"

Julianna stiffened for a moment, caught off guard, but then she laughed—an actual, genuine laugh. "Yeah, we did."

They stayed there for a moment, grinning like idiots as the radio crackled with faint transmissions.

"Let's get this back to the others," Misty said, practically bouncing on her heels.

Julianna nodded, gathering up the equipment. As they headed back down the hallway, she couldn't help but glance at Misty, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

She wasn't ready to admit it out loud, but Misty was right about one thing: they did make a pretty good team.