The Rising | Chapter Two

TWO | ELVIS

Elvis, where are you
When I need you most
White comp sequin jumpsuit ghost
- Lana Del Rey


"Have you lost your mind, child?" Maggie screams, dropping the blankets on the sofa. I've never seen her get so pale so quickly before. She looked stricken with worry.

"Don't talk down to me like that! I saw some of them down by the mill. They were lurking around the fissures! Humans, Maggie." My eyes open wide, with excitement or fear I do not know. But for the first time in six months, I feel alive.

The tingling in my body reminds me of summers by the cape and the rush of blood to my head brings back feelings of hope; a feeling I've so desperately searched for since the Great Shake. But again, Maggie seems unconvinced.

"You were crazy enough to wander off, and crazier still for approaching the fissures. That's where they come out from. Are you trying to get yourself killed, Katherine, because I know -"

"I am not crazy. I know what I saw. Maggie, please believe me. Please." I cut her off. She despises signs of disrespect and I usually don't display them but I am sure of what I saw. I know I saw humans.  I clasp my hands togheter in sign of mercy. I need her to believe me, to validate that there is still life out there, that we're not the only ones left.

She rests those fading blue eyes on mine and I can't tell if she's glaring at me or pitying me.

"Katherine, I don't want you out and about, exploring the wasteland anymore. There are things you don't quite understand yet but I can assure you that what you saw at the fissures, those humans, they are not what they seem to be." Maggie finally said.

She picked up the blankets and continued on as if I had said nothing. She made her way up the stairs and left me in the kitchen. But I couldn't doubt her, though, not after what we've been through.

Maggie had found me in New-York, even though I was from California. I was pretty roughed up and it took her several months to get me back on my feet. I had and still don't have any memories of the Great Shake. Once I was able to walk, we made our way north - Maggie thought the colder temperatures might mean lesser chances of being surrounded by fissures and eruptions. We found Phillip somewhere in Canada, he was unconscious. We carried him in a stretcher Maggie made with branches and twine. She was handy and I admired her skills and determination to never let go.

Then we found this place, two months ago. We placed Phillip in the smaller bedroom upstairs and ever since, Maggie has been feeding him liquids and keeping him alive. He hasn't moved, he hasn't spoken, and he probably never will.

And she was doing that just now, when she left me in the kitchen. Going up the stairs to care for Phillip, while I stayed down here, hopeless.

"Are you there?" I turn towards the darkened living room.

He steps out from the shadows of the corner, dressed in his white jumpsuit. He's handsome and his hair is particularly well groomed tonight.

"I'm always here, Katherine. What's wrong, little one?" Elvis answers, with his comforting, southern charm.

"I don't know what's wrong. Last night I saw Buffy - well - Sarah Michelle Gellar...anyways, I saw her in the bathroom. She was just looking at me, her head slightly tilted to the left. I thought it was cool seeing you and didn't think much of it, but after seeing her last night i'm starting to wonder..." I look away from Elvis, my voice trailing off, "am I crazy?"

He chuckles a bit and then answers me. "I've been dead for thirty six years. What do you think, cupcake?"