by Tara Brown
Who’s hungry?” Jeff asks with a big grin.
We all spin, facing him like hungry baby birds. Only we’re vultures. Stinky vultures.
He pulls open a door behind the kitchen, showing off the largest pantry I’ve ever seen.
We rush it, every one of us is starved and we didn't know it until this moment. I shove a granola bar down my throat, nearly choking. Chasing it with a San Pellegrino. I steal the Froot Loops box—it’s the Costco one—and carry it to the kitchen, opening the fridge to see the power is on. I pour the biggest bowl of cereal ever seen, using a salad bowl from the fancy cabinets. Mitch and Louis hover nearby, grabbing spoons and sharing my cereal.
“It’s weird they have Froot Loops,” Mitch mutters between bites.
“Yeah, they seem kind of boujie.” Louis laughs.
“This house is off the charts,” Vanessa announces as she makes her way back to the kitchen. “The toilet washes your butt.” She points behind her with a thumb. Louis and a few others rush to where she just came from, but I refuse to abandon my cereal. One of these assholes will steal it for sure.
“As soon as everyone has cleaned up, we need to figure out sleeping arrangements,” Jeff says, giving the few of us left in the kitchen a look. “We will have to rest as much as we can.”
We nod but no one answers. We’re eating and ready for bed though it’s morning.
“There are six bedrooms, they all have huge beds. Double occupancy for sure,” Mitch says as he comes back from the bathroom excursion. “Between those and the huge sofas, we should all be able to get some sleep. There are six bathrooms with showers and it’s on-demand hot water. So six showers can happen all at once. I think everyone should hunt down a change of clothes, get clean, and hit the hay. We can refocus on what the plan is tomorrow.”
“That sounds good,” Jeff agrees. “With twenty of us, we need to go in a couple of shifts. Who’s ready for a shower now?”
“I can go. I’m desperate to get clean.” Cynthia takes one more bite before she leaves, sauntering down the hall.
“I’ll find clothes and start building stacks for everyone. And towels.” Jeff follows them, leaving me to enjoy my cereal.
My stomach hurts by the time Mitch comes back. I’ve eaten enough to explode. He’s dressed in preppy clothes, completely opposite of how he normally looks, and his dark hair is pulled back, showcasing his fresh face. “You’re up.” He points at the hallway.
Rubbing my food baby, I grumble and make my way to the bathroom. I hadn’t thought about going near to last, but the mess in the bathroom is offensive until I’m in the hot water and scrubbing myself with some pear-scented amazing body wash and dragging a luxurious hair mask into my long locks.
It’s heavenly, even feeling overly full.
By the time I get out and towel off, I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. Blinking too much, I wrap in the towel and make my way to the laundry room which is the size of my kitchen back home.
The fresh clothes are a pile of rifled items. I get a tank top, a sweater, a pair of jogging pants, and some socks. The underwear look either too small or too big, and the bra is the size of my face, so there’s no way that’s going to work. But the tank top is too small, and the rest of the clothes would fit a boy who is about my size.
Weirdly, once I’m dressed, I’m overwhelmed with a sense of safety. Clean clothes and food and water all wrapped up in a pretty package.
“We’re bed buddies, Tan,” Bev says as she pokes her head into the laundry room. Master bedroom.” She points down the hall I haven’t gone down yet. “Everyone is bunking with their previous partners.”
“Okay.” I nod and follow her, passing Louis who is carrying our dirty clothes from the bathroom to the laundry room. His motivation to clean up our own clothing is likely driven by the fancy clothes he has on which are a touch too tight. The owner must have been more like Mitch who has a European build to his body. Louis, on the other hand, is stocky and shorter.
Bev climbs into a bed that’s similar to everything else in this house, I've never seen something so huge. It’s a sea. When I climb into the other side, I don't know she’s there. The sheets are damp, as everything is here on the West Coast. I won’t miss that when we get back home. If we get back.
I stare at the ceiling for a second before whispering, “Night.”
“Night.” She sounds like she might already be falling asleep.
It takes me a moment before my heart calms and my eyes close and the rest is history.
6
Day Three
Staring out at the sea, the gray and choppy sea, I become a little lost. Even with the hot cup of coffee in my hands.
“Wipe the counter, Jack,” Louis nags behind me. He’s become the house mom. “We all have to live here. I don't want to have to clean up after everyone.”
“Sorry, man,” Jack grumbles.
“Speaking of which, here are your clothes.” Louis dumps a pile of clean laundry on the table next to me. “I’ve never smelled anything so foul as that laundry pile.” He wrinkles his nose.
“Thanks.” I smile at him in his own clothing again. “What’s the plan?”
“Jeff went out with Mitch and a couple of the faster people to see if they could find something to transport us all. He said something about a handi dart. I’m assuming it’s the disabled bus. Then I think whoever wants to leave, will.”
“Do some people want to stay here?”
“I don't know.” He shrugs. “But I know I don’t. I need to see if my family is okay.”
“Me too.” I bite my lip and stare out at the gray day. “This has to be some kind of bad dream, I swear.”
“Then I wish we would wake up,” he says before he turns and goes back to bossing everyone around.
I just finish my coffee when Mitch and Jeff walk in the front door. Mitch’s eyes find mine. Something’s wrong.
Getting up, I listen to Jeff talking to Louis, “It’s bad. We didn't see many survivors. And the ones we saw were running or hiding, eyes peeking out from behind curtains. It’s disastrous. Crashed vehicles. Bloodstained streets. Zombies everywhere. I don't think it’s safe. We lost someone too—”
“We ran so hard but we couldn’t save him,” Mitch’s voice cracks.
“That kid with the red hat.” Jeff points at Louis.
“Trevor? Shit.” Louis runs his hands over his short hair. “So what does that mean for the rest of us? Trev was fast.”
“Yeah, crazy fast. I can’t believe he’s gone.” Mitch keeps his voice low.
The news grates on my already tense nerves.
“I don’t think we should leave here. We have food and water and space and gates and protection. This house is practically a compound. They’re not getting in,” Jeff offers, keeping his voice low still.
“But my mom, and my brother.” I step forward.
“I know, Tan, my family too,” Louis says it like I’m being selfish talking about mine. “But we aren’t going to do anyone any good dying out there. Trevor dying just on a recon mission changes things.”
“And that’s all that’s waiting for us,” Jeff adds. “Running and screaming and death.”
I don't wait to hear any more. I turn on my heel and hurry down the hall to the master bedroom, grateful to find it empty and dark. I climb back into the sheets and curl into a ball.
There’s no chance of me leaving here alone. I won’t make it. Which means I’m stuck here. I don’t know how to cope with that.
The bed moves and in the large mirror on the wall I see who it is and relax. Mitch lies on his back next to me in the vast expanse of bed. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” I don't know what we’re sorry for, but I’m assuming it's this stupid situation. And Trevor. He was nice. “I wish I didn't come.”
“Not me.” He shifts, moving the sheets and blankets. “If I’m going to die, or end up stuck in Canada, I’m glad I’m with you.” His voice is weirdly soft. It makes me turn my f
ace to see his. “And now that we’re here and this is happening, I want you to know how I feel.”
“What?” I ask and swallow a lump in my throat.
“I have liked you since you came to our school. And I always knew you were way out of my league. But I don't want to die and not tell you.”
“Mitch,” my voice cracks.
“I know, you don't feel the same way. It’s okay. I get it. But I want you to know, I’m here for you. Totally.” His eyes bore into mine.
I’m speechless but less uncomfortable than I thought I’d be in a moment like this one. Not that I ever gave much thought to a friend confessing feelings for me. That’s something that would happen to Sasha or Jamie, not me.
“You don't have to say anything, honestly.” He reaches his arm out, holding it in an inviting way for me to come and lay my head on his chest and armpit. I contemplate it for less time than I should before I roll over completely and snuggle into him. He’s warm and smells good, a mix of deodorant and laundry soap and boy smell. I don’t know how I feel about him, I’ve literally never given it a moment’s thought. He’s Mitch. Just Mitch. Just plain old boring Mitch.
Even if in this moment he smells good. And he feels warm. And his arm around me is something nice, something I can’t really explain to myself. Maybe because I never imagined I would be in the situation. It’s a strange thing to add to this already messed up week.
“What if we don't leave here and we don't get to our families?” I change the subject, deciding this is the best course of action.
“I don't know.” His voice is still soft and his words are on the top of my head like he might be contemplating kissing my forehead. “When I close my eyes, I see Trevor. I hear him screaming. I just can’t get to him.”
“I’m sorry.” I don’t know what to say.
“Me too. This just sucks. And even worse, we don’t know where we are in this. I’m so lost on what the possible outcomes are. I mean, if you think about it, the only real research done by anyone in a situation like this is by moviemakers. So according to them, we’ve got a couple of possible scenarios. It becomes a lawless and chaotic landscape as the zombies die off from lack of food sources and the cold winter months ahead of us. That means the people who are still alive all fight for the last of the easy resources, like stores and food and gas while it’s still viable. Sort of like The Walking Dead.”
“Okay.” I don't enjoy that option.
“Then there’s the chance the military actually pulls off a Hail Mary, and we end up being saved and taken to a secure location, sort like an outpost where we all live and wait for the zombies to die off or for a cure, like World War Z. And the cold reality is that more than eighty percent of the people are gone in both those scenarios, so again you are looking at a limited amount of structure and civilization surviving. So it could end up in a chaotic mess too where people are fighting for the last of the supplies.”
“Right.” Also a shit option.
“Or there’s a cure and we end up being able to bring the infected back from where they are. We can heal the world and fix the infrastructure and while a large portion of the population is dead, the government survives and we end up taking a couple of years to repair the damage, but we manage to move on, like in Warm Bodies.”
“You know a lot about zombie movies.”
“I love zombie movies. Zombieland is one of my faves. But I hope that’s not how this ends up.” He chuckles and in the middle of it something changes.
The hum of life and electricity, a sound I didn’t realize I could hear until I don't, is gone.
“Shit.” Mitch stops laughing and sighs.
“Is that the power?” I ask and glance over him at the clock on the bedside table that now has no light.
“I think so.”
“That’s a bad sign, right?”
“Yeah, it’s not great,” he admits.
“But we’re okay here for right now?” I’m worried about his answer.
“We’ll be fine. These coastal houses are always equipped for power outages. And until we have something resembling an option for transport, I think we should stay here and ride it out as long as we can.”
I don't love his answer, but he’s smart. Way smarter than I am when it comes to this craziness. And after the two deaths our group has faced, not to mention all the running and screaming and boats and darkness, I’m not sure I’m ready to go back out there just yet. I have a bad feeling we didn't even experience a tenth of what’s going on.
The disappointment of us being stuck here has lessened. I’m not certain if it’s because he’s made me feel less alone or if I’m coming to terms with it.
He holds me tighter and I close my eyes. I want to sleep through this, all of it. I want to dream of sunshine and my family, maybe even my dad. I want to be home and for it to be a bad dream.
But Jeff’s voice in the doorway makes all that impossible, “Hey, since the power’s out I’m going to cook the meat in the fridge and freezer. They have a massive barbecue on the deck. It’s a full kitchen run on gas, fridge included. We’re moving the perishables from the fridge in the house to out there.”
“Coming,” Mitch says with a bit of what I assume is regret in his tone. He hugs me tightly to him for a moment and then lets go and slides off the bed, leaving the room. He and Jeff and Louis have sort of taken charge of the group since Ms. Mara is gone.
Gone.
That’s a strange way to categorize her. She isn’t gone, probably not. She’s one of them. And if this is like Warm Bodies, maybe she can be cured too.
It’s weird my biggest hope today is that this is the sort of zombie apocalypse that people can come back from.
Because if they can’t, what do we do then?
I follow them out onto the deck where the barbecue is going and food is being placed down on the grill; steaks, burgers, and kebabs. It seems like a lot, too much for us to eat.
In the kitchen, Bev and her friends are making fruit and veg trays and Vanessa leads a group who are carrying out drinks to the massive patio. Tables are set up and this is resembling a family get-together or an adult party.
People are laughing and smiling, and you would never know unimaginable horrors are going on beyond the gates. Jeff is organizing, Louis is grilling, and Mitch is moving chairs to where Jeff tells him to.
And I feel useless, an observer, until someone hands me a plate and a set of cutlery that feels like it’s plastic but it’s silver. It’s fancy picnic dinnerware. I’m pointed in the direction of food, and I realize I’ve zoned out again and the meal is ready. Everyone is lining up and filling their plates high.
Joining them feels wrong, as though I’m a guest at a party where I don't know the host. I’ve crashed or come as someone else’s plus one and I’m uncomfortable.
When my plate’s piled high, I find a seat off to the side, alone and unsure. The food smells incredible, but my stomach is queasy from the thought that we might be here until there’s an answer.
“Look what I found!” Jack comes rushing from the house holding an old boom box but it’s tiny. “It was in the garage. It’s battery powered.” He puts it down on the large coffee table in the middle of one of the huge conversation pits where Jeff is sitting. I’m confused until Jeff turns it on and begins searching. A grin crosses my lips as I imagine what Lou would have said when she realized I thought the radio was a boom box, a mini boom box. She would have known what it was straight out of the gates. She’s savvy like that.
It’s white noise for long enough some of the kids move back and sit in their seats again, resuming eating and chatting quietly. But I listen, swearing I hear something. It’s a man in the white noise. He blips over and over until Jeff hits the sweet spot and the man’s voice is loud and clear, as loud as the crappy old silver radio goes.
“Fort Myers is gone too,” his voice cracks, not from emotion but the shitty connection or whatever they called that in the olden days. “No hope,” he cuts back in,
clearer than before. “We’ve lost the last of the strong holds. We’re outnumbered. The only chance you have is riding this out. Seven days. As the breakouts started, I overheard my master chief tell his wife to hide for seven days. If you can make it to the eighth day, they’re going to be dead. They’re on a timer. He said if he didn’t make it home, she should head for Boulder. It’s the meeting place for all marine corps who are still alive. Stay where you are. Ride this out. On day eight, head for Boulder. It’s all I have.”
Jeff lifts his stare to Louis who glances at Mitch who finds me.
I suspect every single one of us has the same question running through our minds.
Jack is the one who asks it, “How could they possibly know the zombies will die on the seventh day? And why Boulder? And how could they know everyone should go to Boulder before this was even a thing?”
7
“It has to be some kind of government conspiracy. How else could they know this?” Mitch’s tone rises more, hitting a level of worry I didn’t know he was capable of.
“But why?” Jeff asks the question I’m also wondering as we clean the outdoor kitchen after dinner.
“Population control. Terrorism in another country that went wrong and somehow ended up back here. Militant government planning on taking over. Religious-cult nuts trying to start the end of days. There’s loads of reasons.” Mitch rolls his eyes at us and our skepticism.
“I can’t believe I’m about to say this.” Louis pauses and blinks a couple of times with a stunned expression on his face. “I’m with Mitch. There’s no one way the government could predict how this is gonna go down, unless they did it. I would guess military strike gone wrong. Or experiment.”
“See!” Mitch points both hands at Louis. “At least someone sees this. They always do this. Did you know when they started doing the reanimation projects on dead animals using nanobots, they did it in India? In a heavily populated area. And the conspiracy-theory wingnuts all lost their minds. They couldn’t believe such a thing would even be attempted in a place like that. Not when we have Antarctica. Or the North Pole. Governments and scientists are genuinely that stupid. Because they think they have everything under control.”