Lizzy Unger

I thought the masks were terrifying: big circular filters near the mouth, a clear plastic visor shielding the eyes, heavy back rubber to fit the contours of a human face, and thick straps to lock it into place on your head. We found the masks in the attic, a box packed with them. I pulled one out and gave it to Simon. I was reminded of the biohazard thrillers my mother liked to watch late at night, after I was tucked into bed. All the movies shared the same plot where a group of characters were in danger, but a few managed to solve the puzzles of some crazy lone madman in a prescribed amount of time. I was terrified of the situations despite finding the formula silly.

Simon slipped the mask over his head, tufts of yellow hair sticking out around the rubber. In our thriller movie, the good characters wore the scary gear (this was our gimmick). And the fires were nothing like a single madman, but we were certainly all in danger.

Riding our bikes through the empty streets was difficult due to the masks. It was harder to breathe and nearly impossible to see. You had to point your face at everything you wanted to look at. Dust covered everything.

We climbed the stairs to the attic; the house protested with creaks and groans. I opened the door slowly, stirring dust. The air was hazy and the ceiling sloped sharply down from the low centerline peak. A light bulb with a string was affixed to a beam.

"I don't like it up here," I said.

Simon twisted past me, pulled the string, and opened the first box. A trail of footprints followed his path in the dust. I stepped into the space and sneezed. Shadows filled me with fear; they were everywhere.

"I know I'm scared for a lot of not real reasons, but what about the real, real things?" I stammered. "Like rabid bats? I don't wanna die foaming at the mouth!"

"Bats? I thought they turned to dust in the light."

I heard scratching and squeaking above my head, and let a scream unfurl. Simon had his arms around me.

"Squirrels," he whispered into my ear, "playing on the roof."

I exhaled. "I should go downstairs."