Chapter 1
Lukewarm liquid, much like a sticky tar-like drool, running down the throat to the stomach where the acids will churn in the body. And it settles into its new home space. The wet intruder is the deepest shade of black, shiny like an oil slick, and seemed like some sort of runny jam. The gag reflex wants to expel the obsidian fluids, but the physical form is at rest. Given up. The mind falls away and the consciousness shuts off like a television in a dark room. The lips fall away and air can once again find its way through to the lungs.
I stroll through the crowded streets toward the grocery store, the rubber soles of my shoes slapping on the concrete. Milk, bread, shampoo. I list in my head, remembering the necessities. Though the weather forecast is as bipolar, we who live on the east coast always prepared for the worse. It’s supposed to snow tonight.
“Fear! You must fear the end of days! Christ, out lord, will save us! Repent for your sins before it is too late!” A man clad in some roughed up nylon jacket the color of muddy traffic cones shouted from the entrance of the store. He had poster boards with many different slogans picketing against humanities sins.
“Bogus.” I grumbled, tugging on my jacket to fight the brisk wind rushing past me as I enter.
He didn’t hear me, and went on with his speeches about god and doom.
And I fought the hoards of people to get what I needed for the next few days, then headed home with the sun lazily slinking from the sky. The city lights and smog preventing a glimpse at the stars above. The television boomed from inside my mother’s room, and I could tell she was watching and obsessing over the news.
“Who is it?”
“’t’s me ma!”
Once the groceries were put away, I laid in bed with Janice, my mother, who still hadn't quite figured out who I was to her yet. Our nightly routine: watch the news, dinner, bed. The doctor said routine was good for her. She eats, her lips smacking as she enjoys her soup and crackers, and she doesn’t pay much attention to me. I don’t mind because sometimes when she sees me she gets upset and yells insults and nonsense she won't be able to recollect later.
“What the hell is wrong with him?” That was the only question that seemed appropriate in this situation. A man, who was about thirty-four and had a clean, healthy record, was vomiting as EMTs rushed his body in. I thought whatever was coming from him was blood, but oddly dark and black.
I spent my lunch break in my friend’s office, unable to get the images of the out of my head. Tessa was a beautiful half Indian woman who was one hell of a doctor. She had shoulder length, ebony hair that she styled every morning to perfection. I could hardly run a brush through my hair without the curls frizzing up into an unfortunate mess. She was one of my best friends; I don't have many friends due to losing touch with high school friends. Tossing my packed lunch on her desk, I sat with a deep groan. “I don’t even know how you are eating that after what we just saw.”
“Frankie, I perform surgeries on the daily, a little vomit and blood do nothing to my appetite.” She chuckled, crossing her legs that were propped up on her desk. She kicked her heels off and sighed.
“But have you ever seen anything like that? Is the dude okay?” I glanced at my lunch longingly. But anytime I thought about what I saw my stomach churned nervously. Something wasn’t right.
“We have people testing what came out of him, but uh, no...he died shortly after they brought him in. Whatever he had had got him too fast. He must’ve been sick for a while without coming in.” She shrugged, glancing down at her meal. “Didn’t look like the common cold though.”
No, it definitely did not.
A nice terrifying start to this chapter, with your introductory paragraph, However, you have mixed past with present tense. It should be seems, not seemed. Also it would be better to use prepare, rather than prepared. It seems that you move more into past tense in your writing after the first few paragraphs, so we would make the whole lot past tense, perhaps with the exception of the first paragraph. Past tense is much easier to write in than present tense. Comma after shampoo, not full stop as you go on to mention that this is your list. The character is well written, and grabs the readers attention right from the start. You have also given just the right attention to the character's mother, portraying her disease very accurately and sympathetically. We like your ending too, as you jump straight into the action of what's coming next. All in all a very good effort.