Magic Space: Struggling to Survive in the Apocalypse-Chapter 24: Rainstorm, Poisonous Moths

That afternoon, Evelyn Ford trimmed her hair, which had gotten a little long. She even treated herself to a rare face mask. Afterward, she placed two potatoes on the space heater to roast. She set up the folding bed in the living room, laid out her quilt, and climbed in. The radio couldn’t get a signal, serving only as a decoration.

As the potatoes on the space heater began to cook through, Evelyn felt as if she had been transported back to her childhood.

After eating the potatoes, Evelyn grew sleepy and drifted off.

When she woke up the next day, the temperature had dropped another two degrees. Evelyn felt a heavy, sinking feeling in her lower abdomen. She knew this was bad news.

Perhaps it was the weather, but her period was excruciating this time. Even after taking painkillers, the pain was so intense she couldn’t get out of bed. Evelyn pressed a hot water bottle to her stomach, and as her abdomen slowly warmed, the sharp, twisting pain subsided slightly. She had a Warm Baby stuck to the outside of her socks, yet she still felt chilled to the bone. Cold sweat beaded on her forehead, and she felt as if she’d been plunged into a freezing cavern.

At noon, Evelyn forced herself out of bed despite the pain to brew a pot of herbal medicine. Only after drinking it did she feel some slight relief.

Lying in bed under three quilts, Evelyn curled into a ball. She listened to the thunder rumbling outside, her body wracked by alternating waves of chills and heat.

Evelyn took her own temperature. It was 105.8°F. She had a raging fever. On top of the menstrual pain, the fever brought on a host of other symptoms: dizziness, congestion, a sore throat, a cough, and a runny nose.

’When it rains, it pours,’ Evelyn thought. She guessed she’d been too exhausted and on edge recently. The moment she had finally relaxed the night before, all the accumulated stress had taken its toll on her body at once.

She stuck a cooling patch to her forehead and swallowed a handful of fever reducers, but Evelyn felt utterly miserable. She didn’t even have the strength to lift her arm.

Sounds of movement echoed from the hallway, followed a moment later by arguing and cursing.

Evelyn frowned in irritation. Even with three doors installed, it was still an old building with terrible soundproofing. Her hearing seemed to have grown sharper now that she was sick, making the noise even more grating.

Evelyn’s hair was soaked with sweat, making her look as if she’d just been pulled from the water. Her thermal shirt clung uncomfortably to her skin.

Drifting in and out of consciousness, Evelyn fell asleep again. She jolted awake two hours later and scrambled out of bed.

It felt like a block of ice was lodged in her abdomen, and every movement sent a spike of pain through her. Evelyn recharged the electric hot water bottle, changed into a fresh pair of thermal pants, and quickly crawled back into bed.

Later that afternoon, there was a knock on the door. Evelyn struggled to her feet and peered through the peephole to see Mrs. Graham outside, decked out in full gear. Clutching a can of insecticide, Evelyn opened the door. Mrs. Graham was taken aback when she saw Evelyn’s wan and exhausted state.

"Ford, what’s wrong with you?" Mrs. Graham asked, her face etched with worry.

"It’s nothing, just a small issue. Did you all just get back?"

"Yes, we covered a lot of ground. There are so many people out there scavenging for supplies. We ran into some trouble on the way back, but thankfully, we had a good haul this time. Ford, this is for you. Take it. Are you sure you’re all right?"

Evelyn shook her head. "I’m fine."

Seeing the bag Mrs. Graham was handing her, Evelyn accepted it without hesitation.

"Are there fewer toxic moths now?"

"That’s right. Once the temperature dropped to 14 degrees, the number of toxic moths started to go down."

Evelyn nodded. The pain was becoming unbearable. She exchanged a few more words with Mrs. Graham before closing the door and heading back inside. Two minutes later, however, there was another knock. Evelyn sighed, gritted her teeth, and went to open the door again.

"Ford, this is for you. Take good care of yourself."

Mrs. Graham’s expression was full of sympathy. Evelyn’s eyes fell to the items in her hand—a block of brown sugar and a pack of sanitary pads. She froze.

"We got lucky on this trip and found quite a few of these. The packaging is intact, no water damage," she said, pressing the items into Evelyn’s hand before quickly departing.

Evelyn watched her leave, a mix of complicated emotions stirring within her.

Inside the bag Mrs. Graham had brought were two bottles of water, two small bread rolls, and a 200-gram bag of salt.

After putting the items in the kitchen, Evelyn hunched over and walked back to her bedroom. She pulled out a knit cap and put it on. Sitting on the bed, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. The illness had left her face ghastly pale. The dark circles under her eyes were severe, and her eyes were bloodshot.

She took out a carton of fried rice but lost her appetite after just a few bites. She then forced down another bowl of dark, bitter herbal medicine. After all the commotion, the pain in her abdomen seemed to have eased. By nightfall, Evelyn was back in bed, another cooling patch stuck to her forehead.

The next day, the bleeding had lessened considerably; it was no longer a flood with every movement. Evelyn had just breathed a sigh of relief when her stomach suddenly let out a loud GURGLE. A sharp, twisting pain followed. ’Crap,’ she thought, ’diarrhea.’

Evelyn was once again grateful that she had bought several tons of cat litter. Though the act of scooping her own waste was still disgusting and embarrassing, it was something she had to get used to. In situations like this, for instance, dealing with diarrhea was much more manageable. She couldn’t imagine how difficult her life would be without it.

After five trips, Evelyn was completely drained. There was nothing left in her stomach, yet each bout felt like a life-or-death battle.

After lighting a stick of mugwort incense in the bathroom and spraying half a can of air freshener, Evelyn dragged her exhausted body back to bed. She collapsed onto it, staring at the ceiling, feeling like she’d lost the will to live.

At noon, Evelyn ate two steamed buns and drank another bowl of herbal medicine. She was about to go back to bed when a thought struck her. She walked to the balcony, moved the insulation panel aside, and peered out through the thick glass window. Sure enough, there were hardly any toxic moths clinging to the glass anymore. The storm, however, seemed to have a mind of its own, alternating erratically between downpours, lulls, thunder, and howling wind.

Fewer people were going out to scavenge. The thunder and wind were more terrifying than the rain itself; no one wanted to be struck by lightning. Numerous bodies floated in the flooded complex, bloated to grotesque, giant-like proportions. Evelyn felt as if they might explode at any second. The thought made her stomach churn.

Next door, Jack Sullivan started wailing for his mother again. He opened his door and began shouting in the hallway.

"’Your mom and your grandma turned into monsters! They bite people’s necks and drink their blood! Your grandpa and your dad chased them out!’" a neighbor from the eleventh floor shouted, pointing outside as he spoke.

"’If you keep screaming, we’ll throw you out there with them! Let the monsters bite your neck so you can turn into one of them too!’"

Hearing this, Harvey Sullivan and David Collins started forward to confront the man, but they flinched back, intimidated by the iron shovel in his hands.

Jack Sullivan collapsed to the floor, shaking his head relentlessly. He couldn’t accept that his grandmother and mother had become monsters, and he was terrified he would become one too. After Harvey Sullivan carried him home, Jack cried all night. The next morning, he was like a completely different person. His eyes were vacant, drool trickled from the corner of his mouth, and all he did was giggle while calling for his ’mommy’.

Evelyn hadn’t known any of this until Lauren Keller came by and told her the story.

"So Jack was scared out of his wits just by those words. It’s a pitiful situation."

’A pity? Perhaps.’