“Ah.” Daezoth takes a sip of his water. “So. Your plans were to keep searching for survivors.”
I nod. “They were.”
“And now?”
“Now?”
“Do you want to keep going? Would you stop?”
“Well, I’ve found one survivor, haven’t I?” I raise an eyebrow at him. “And you’ve been searching, and haven’t found any. Is it worth keeping on going?”
He spins the glass in a circle, his fingers inching around the rim. “I have never been to Hobart or Launceston. Maybe there are more people there?”
“Do you want to keep going then? To keep searching?”
He shrugs. “I was thinking of settling down when I found this spot. Well, that is not true. I was wishing to return home. But returning home is not possible at this point, and avoiding the zombies is getting tiresome. But there are two of us now. We are much more likely to survive with those odds, whether we keep moving or settle down.”
I think of my attempts at avoiding with zombies with first Clay, and then Dirk. Neither of those ended well. Then again, Daezoth has survived the zombies by himself, and even saved me from them once already. “So you’d be happy to stay together then?”
“It would make me very happy to stay with you.” His gaze searches out mine. “If you feel the same.”
I don’t even hesitate to wonder about this stranger I’ve known for less than a day. I grin. “I’d love to. I’ve had enough of travelling solo.”
His pupils dilate, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.
He’s so hot, and he’s so close, and I half expect him to proposition me there and then, but instead he stands and starts collecting up the dirty dishes.
“I will wash the dishes,” he says.
“Would you like some help?”
“It is not necessary.” He grins at me. “But you could keep me company.”
“You don’t want me to dry?”
He shakes his head. “There are hardly any dishes. Have a rest, enjoy the break. You can start helping tomorrow.” He grins and I can’t not smile back.
A guy who’s willing to do the housework with no help. If only I’d met him before all this madness. Even Clay wouldn’t help clean without me giving him a nudge about it.
I pull myself up so I’m sitting on the bench and watch as he washes and then dries our plates, cups and cutlery, and the pot and pan he used to cook in.
“How have you been spending your evenings?” I ask.
He glances up at me. “I found the alcoholic drink of rum in the cupboard, and have been having a glass each night. It helps me get to sleep.”
“Rum? Don’t suppose there’s any cola anywhere?”
“Cola?” He hesitates. “I have not seen any cola.”
“Bugger. Oh well. Straight rum wouldn’t be too bad. Do you mind if I have a glass?”
“Please do.” He gestures to the cupboard above the sink. “Pour me one while you’re at it.”
I find the glasses and the rum, and pour out about half a glass each. It’s been months since I’ve had any alcohol, and it’ll probably go straight to my head, but I’m feeling reckless.
“Shall we go out onto the balcony, and look at the stars?”
“That would be pleasant.” He smiles.
We venture out, and sit together on a ragged couch.
I deliberately sit close enough that my leg touches his, and he shifts to the side a litle.
Hmm… Maybe he’s shy. Or gay. I need to allow for that option, too, and not get my hopes up too high. Or maybe I’m just not his type. Just because he’s male doesn’t mean he’s going to want to jump me.
“Cheers.” I clink my glass against his. “To meeting new people, and lifelong friends.”
“Cheers.” The phrase sounds strange on his tongue. “Meeting new people is always a good thing. Instead of all those zombies.” He shudders, and I grin.
“No argument there.”
We both take a sip, and I close my eyes as the alcohol burns its way down my throat, warming me from the inside out.
“So.” I shift on the couch, moving a little closer to him again. This time he doesn’t move when my thigh comes to a rest next to his. “What’s your story? Where are your people?”
“My people?”
“You know. Your family. Your friends. You’re not from here, are you?”
He hesitates, and then shakes his head.
“So, if you’re not from around here, where are you from?”
For a moment there’s silence, and I wonder if I’ve hit a nerve. But then he continues.
“My people are a long way away.” He’s gazing up at the stars now. “I have not spoken to my parents in such a long time, or my sisters. I was travelling with companions, but then we went our seperate ways. I do not know what has happened to them now.”
Daezoth’s voice catches, and I rest a hand on his knee.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to speak about it if it’s too hard.”
He gives me a soft smile.
“I miss them so much, When I left, I did not fully understand that I would never see them again.”
“So you were travelling before the zombies? For work, or just to explore the world?”
“Both. The work was the excuse to go exploring. I never quite imagined it would see me in this situation, though. I thought I’d find someone, settle down, start a family.”
He looks at me, but I can’t read his expression.
“You don’t have a girlfriend somewhere out there in the world?” I keep my voice soft.
“No.”
I lean in closer, but then he pulls away to take another sip of his drink.
“Tell me about your stars.”
I sit up in surprise. “My stars?”
“Yes.” He points to the sky. “I never learnt the names of the constellations. Do you know them?”
I gaze up at the sky. There are so many stars now there’s no more electric light to compete with. “I know some of them.” I search out three stars in a line, and point to it. “That’s Orion’s Belt.” I hesitate, trying to remember which of the other stars make up the rest of Orion. “I think he’s upside down to us, so those stars are his sword, I think, and then his legs. Then….” I pause while I search out the sky for the only other constellation I know. “That’s the Southern Cross, with the two pointers.”
He leans in close to my arm to follow my finger. He’s so close I can feel the warmth of his breath on my wrist. “What about the others?”
“I don’t know any others.”
“None at all.”
I shake my head. “Nope.”
“That one you call the Southern Cross, if you follow the uppermost tip of that, to that small cluster of stars….” Now it’s his turn to point, and mine to lean in close. “That’s a galaxy called Glacen. And in that galaxy, too far away for us to see, is a planet called Somtach.”
“What’s so special about Somtach?”
“It’s….” He stops, and shakes his head. “It’s nothing, really. The only place I remember being taught about, in my training.”
“Your training?”
He frowns. “Yes. Uh. My schooling.”
“Is English your second language?”
“Ah… Yes. Something like that.”
“You speak well. I would never have known.”
He smiles. “Thank you.” His gaze meets mine, and I’m instantly taken in by the depth in his eyes.
“Do you, um…. Are you, um, lonely?”
My palms are sweating, and I wipe them on my jeans.
Daezoth takes my hand and threads his fingers through mine. He closes his eyes for a moment. My brain seems to buzz, and I blink my eyes as though it’s going to help clear it.
I’m really not used to alcohol anymore.
“I long for a life-long partner.” Daeztoh opens his eyes, his gaze on our entwined hands. “And you are an attractive woman. But my people have rules, and it fe
els wrong to break them, despite the situation we find ourselves in. Perhaps as time passes we can work towards a closer relationship.” He stands up. “It is late, and I am sleepy. We can talk more on this in the morning?”
I squash the disappointment that a night pressed up together under the stars didn’t lead to anything else. “Sure. That sounds nice.”
He disappears into his room and I let out the sigh I’ve been holding. Dirk was keen to jump in the sack almost the moment we met, but not everyone is like Dirk. Daezoth is the first person I’ve met in months, and I don’t want to scare him off by being too forward.
On the other hand, why bother living by rules of people who are probably dead, and who it is highly likely he will never see again?
I head up the hall to my own room, this time noticing the bathroom, it’s door slightly ajar. I can’t believe I forgot about the bathroom! Then again, it’s been months since I’ve used one. After a while the grease just feels like a second skin.
I sneak inside to see if there’s anything to wash myself with. A stack of clean facewashers and towels are in the cupboard and some old dry soap rests on the sink. I turn on the tap. It’s a bit rusty, but the water flows well, and I strip off all my clothes and give my whole body a good scrub.
It’s the cleanest I’ve been in weeks, and when I go to bed I feel more refreshed than I have in a long time.
Chapter 7
Breakfast is baked beans, again.
I eat it, because Daezoth cooked it for me, and not only would it be rude not to eat it, it would be wasteful, and who knows how long the dried food in my pack will last, especially now there’s two of us.
I do point out I have other food and offer to cook lunch, which Daezoth gratefully accepts.
Thank goodness.
“What do you wish to do today?” he asks as we sit down to eat. He’s wearing a white t-shirt and jeans, and I wonder how on earth he keeps his clothes so clean. They look like they’ve been ironed for goodness sake!
I pull my jacket over a long reddish-orange stain down one side of my shirt where I spilled an earlier meal of baked beans. Yuk.
I shrug. “What would you like to do?”
“Shall we pack up, keep walking, see what we find? I’m sure there must be a nicer place to stay than here.”
I think of the house on the outskirts of town, with it’s garden, and chickens, and nod.
“I can think of at least one place. Just out of town.”
Daezoth’s eyes light up. “You know of a place? That is happy news. There is an abundance of tinned food in the cupboards here which I can carry, and we can set up something a bit cosier elsewhere.”
Am I imagining the emphasis on ‘cosier’? Daezoth scrapes the last of his beans into his mouth, and then starts bustling around the kitchen, stacking tins into bags. I think I must’ve.
I head up the hall to grab my own pack, returning via the bathroom for another wash.
Maybe we will set up in that other house, and it will have a fancy bathroom, and I can wash properly again every day, or maybe something will pull us elsewhere and it’ll be months before I feel this clean again.
Either way, it won’t hurt to wash now.
Once we’re packed we venture down the stairs and out in the day.
There are a few whispy clouds across the sky, but the sun is bright, and once again I can’t hear any zombies.
“Have you noticed that the zombies hide in the middle of the day?” Daezoth shifts his pack on his back. It must be heavy, it’s full of tinned food and not much else, so far as I can gather.
“I hadn’t noticed that, no.”
I glance around. The streets here have been pretty empty anyway, thanks to that lure further up the main street, so I’m not really sure how he can tell.
He must’ve sensed my disbelief, because he jerks his head towards where the zombies are gathering.
“Come, let me show you.”
It’s not far, and sure enough when we round the corner we see the zombie group has thinned. There are still a few gathered around the base of the pole, but those on the outskirts of the group have pulled away, and are loitering under trees and in the shade of houses.
“I wish I’d known that yesterday.” I shake my head. “Might’ve actually got past them.”
“I am particularly glad you didn’t.” Daezoth glances at me. “We would never have met. We would still be wandering our own sad and lonely ways in search of others.”
I grin, and reach out to squeeze his hand. It’s warm, and a tingle travels up my arm when he squeezes back.
“True. Far better that we met, even if it did involve having a pack of zombies chase me so I could find you.”
“So.” Daezoth adjusts his pack yet again. “Where is this safe place you found?”
I grin, and point away from the zombies. “That way.”
We head towards the bridge I crossed the previous day, walking down the centre of the road.
It was weird when I first started doing this, those instincts instilled in childhood to stay off the road are damn hard to break. What if there were survivors driving around? They could sweep round a corner and hit me. But as time went on I realised I’d hear any car, long before I saw one. Now the middle of the road is the safest place to be.
“You lived further up the coast?” Daezoth asks.
“Yep.” I nod. “Lived on a farm with my parents, just out of town. Met Clay in the local school. We were friends for a long time, before anything else developed.” At the thought of Clay, my heart feels heavy. All those years we had together, catching tadpoles in the dam, building tree-houses…. He’s always been a part of my life.
“Do you miss him?”
I glance up at Daezoth, and the kindness in his eyes just makes my heart overflow.
“I do.” I bite my lip, and brush away tears with the back of my hand. “I don’t know why I’m crying about it now though. I didn’t cry when he was taken.”
Daezoth takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. Once again there’s a soothing warmth travelling my arm.
“Sometimes grief takes time. Everything in this world is upside down, against the natural order of things. Your brain is probably waiting for you to wake up from a nightmare. No point grieving for what isn’t real, is there?”
Tears still sting the corners of my eyes, but I give Daezoth a weak smile. “That makes a lot of sense.”
“Can I comfort you?” Daezoth asks. “How do you like to be comforted?”
It’s such a strange question it takes me a moment to answer.
In the end I nod. “A hug would be nice.”
He smiles, and wraps his arms around me. It’s so surreal, standing in the middle of the road, being hugged by someone who is basically a stranger while zombies lurk further up the street.
I close my eyes and enjoy it. Who knows when it might happen again?
After a moment or two Daezoth rubs my back. “We should keep going.”
I nod, and sniff, and give him a smile.
“Thank you. That really helped.”
“I’m glad.”
He takes my hand again, and we set off up the street.
Chapter 8
I stop at the bridge and gaze up along the river.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Daezoth follows my gaze.
“It is.” I nod. “I love rivers. Rivers were where I swam as a child. My parents rarely had the time to drive me to the beach, so my friends and I would meet at the local swimming hole and spend whole days together.”
A splash catches my eye, and I glance in time to see a platypus disappearing under the surface.
“Did you see that?” I point.
Daezoth shakes his head.
“A platypus.”
“A platypus?”
It resurfaces closer to us, and I point it out.
Daezoth’s eyes widen. “What is it?”
I grin. “It’s a monotreme.”
“A what?”
&
nbsp; “An egg laying mammal. As you can see, it has the beak of a duck, and the body of a water rat, sort of, anyway. And it lays eggs, but when it’s young hatch it suckles them with milk.”
Daezoth’s eyes widen even further. “I have read of many strange things during my travels, but nothing so strange as this.”
I laugh. “It is pretty strange, isn’t it. Matches the time. It should be the mascot for all the chaos that’s happening in the world right now.”
Daezoth laughs, his eyes shining as they meet mine. “It would be a perfect mascot.”
We continue on our way, walking past the stores with their smashed windows, their goods scattered across the floor and out onto the path.
A face in a window pulls my attention, but when I look up I find it’s an enormous portrait hanging against the back wall of an art gallery. Who drew it? Who is the subject? And who is the artist? My heart feels heavy again.
“It’s so sad. So many people’s dreams, destroyed.”
“And what were your dreams, Chayya?”
I shrug. “I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. Marry Clay, have some kids, take over my parent’s farm when the time came. In the meantime Clay and I were working on a neighbours farm. It was a good life. I was happy with it, I would’ve been happy for it to continue. Instead everything’s been destroyed, and there’s no chance of getting it back.”
I can feel the tears building again, and I swallow them down and take a deep breath.
“There’s nothing we can do about it, though, is there? So we may as well just push on, and hope the zombies eventually eat each other, and all those other survivors hiding away come out, and we can start life afresh. However that will look.”
“You are certain there are other survivors?”
Something about the look on Daezoth’s face makes my stomach sink.
“I have to believe there are. There was Dirk, and there’s you. Counting me there’s three of us along the coast I’ve come across so far, and I haven’t even made it to the really big cities yet.”
“What if there are no other survivors?”
I look straight ahead, fixing my gaze on the roundabout at the top of the street, overgrown with flowers. “Then I guess I take one day at a time.”
Taken by an Alien Shifter: A sci-fi alien romance (Scouts of Somtach Book 2) Page 3