by Frost, Scott
“I love you.” I said.
Her cheeks got red and her eyes started to water. She wrapped her arms around me tighter and kissed me.
“I love you too.”
We stood there for a long time. It didn’t bother us that we were standing next to dead bodies. Nor did it matter that the sun was setting. All that mattered was that we were alive and in love. And I guess that is all that matters anymore. We live in a world, different from a world we once knew. We live each minute of every day with one thought, surviving. We’ve watched the world turn into a place of death. We’ve lost loved ones. But we’ve gained each other and a sense of pride. We have survived. We survived for one reason, to help re-build the world. Emma is the future. And though we haven’t seen another living person in a long time, I hope there are more Emma’s out there.
Chapter Nineteen
After Mary passed away the house was quiet and filled with awkward silences. Clyde spent the majority of his time in his bedroom. He came out of his bedroom, occasionally, but even during those brief times he was quiet and would just sit on the couch. He seldom spoke. He wasn’t eating much and he looked as if he hadn’t sleep in days. This continued for weeks.
Emma tried to cheer him up, but even her childish humor made no improvement on his mood. And even when I attempted to talk to him, his replies were simple, yes or no replies. He refused to open up, not that I blamed him. Katie kept our spirits up, playing the perfect mom to Emma, and in a way, perfect wife to me. She visited with Clyde as often as he would allow and even got him to play poker with us one night. The troubling truth was that he hadn’t smiled since Mary passed, nor did his eyes have a hint of joy in them. He was miserable from the moment he woke up to the moment he fell asleep, and I think he was even miserable in his dreams, not that he talked about them.
I worried about him constantly. Not because of his health. He was older, in his late sixties, but he was in good health. After Mary passed away he started to lose weight. And not just a few pounds here and there; it’s as though he turned into a bag of bones over night.
I missed the Clyde I had first met. The Clyde that was always smiling and full of life, despite the world around him. The Clyde that promised that he would keep Emma safe and always the optimist. The Clyde I knew passed away when Mary passed away. And I suppose it was only natural.
It was late that night when he said goodbye, his final goodbye. I assumed he meant to say goodnight as he walked into his bedroom. I was sitting on the couch, Katie’s head resting on my lap, sound asleep. He paused half way between the bathroom and his bedroom, and turned toward me.
“Goodbye, Alex.” He said with no emotion.
I should have known that he hadn’t meant to say goodnight and that he was in fact saying goodbye, a final goodbye. But I didn’t. I hadn’t even considered that he might mean goodbye in the sense of finality. And so I smiled and said goodnight. He turned and continued on his path to his bedroom. The door closed behind him.
After a while I carried Katie to her bedroom and put her next to Emma. She stirred when I lowered her body, but her eyes remained closed. I kissed her on the lips, a soft kiss. I walked around the bed and kissed Emma on her cheek. She didn’t move.
“Goodnight, I love you.” I walked back into the living room. I wasn’t tired so I opened a book, a book that I’d been reading for the past couple of nights. I had read Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky when I was in high school, but back then I didn’t truly know what I was reading.
I fell asleep on the couch, the book open on my chest. My legs were crossed and resting on the armrest. My right arm was behind my head and my left arm dangled off the left side of the couch. When I woke up in the morning I slowly sat up. It was early morning. The sun had just started to rise. I checked on Emma and Katie, they were both asleep. Emma was on her back, one leg under the covers, one leg out. Katie was on her side, her hair covered her face.
I got a fire started in the fireplace and then walked into the kitchen and grabbed the tea kettle, a pleasant surprise we had found in the basement. It was cast iron and a perfect fireplace kettle. I filled the kettle half full with water and hung it above the fire in a makeshift holder I created. As I waited for the water to boil I knocked on Clyde’s door, checking to see if he was awake. I knocked, softly. No answer. I knocked again, a little harder, still no answer. I turned the handle and the door opened.
I stopped, and let my eyes adjust to the darkness. As my eyes adjusted I looked around the bedroom. The bed was made and Clyde was nowhere to be seen.
“Clyde, are you in here?” I nervously asked.
There was no answer. I asked again, but still Clyde didn’t answer. I flipped the light switch on, but nothing happened, the room was black. I flipped the light switch up and down, but still nothing. I turned around, walked into the kitchen and grabbed a flashlight. I checked the flashlight, the light was bright. I walked back into his bedroom and turned the flash light on. It quickly lit his room. I moved the flashlight beam from one side of the room to the other, but no sign of Clyde.
The room wasn’t that big. If he was hiding, I thought, he would be in the closet. But, why would he be hiding from me? It was a foolish thought. I had to look in the closet. I walked toward the closet, looking behind me every few feet and as I reached the closet door handle I feared what was in there. I half expected Clyde to jump out of the closet and attack me. I envisioned him, with hollow eyes, and stumbling steps coming at me. It was a foolish thought because I knew he wasn’t infected, but the mind will think what it wants to think.
I opened the door and took a deep breath. The closet was empty. I turned around and stood there. Clyde was nowhere. All the windows were still boarded and I had already looked at the front door. The gun safe was still securely in front of the door, so that ruled out Clyde leaving. I looked at the windows in the living room, still boarded. I looked in the bathroom, empty. I only had one more place to search, the basement. I grabbed my bat as I walked toward the basement. I don’t know why I grabbed the bat. I knew he wasn’t infected, he couldn’t be. We hadn’t seen an infected in months.
The basement was dark and the flashlight did the best it could. The basement light hadn’t worked when we found the place and even after reading, Electrician for Dummies, I still couldn’t figure out how to fix it. I walked down the stairs, in slow uneasy steps. I expected to feel a hand grab my ankle, making me tumble down the rest of the stairs. I made it down the stairs without a problem. I didn’t feel any hands try and grip my ankle. I didn’t hear any sounds, any movements. I stood at the bottom of the stairs and waited. I don’t know what I was waiting for, but I expected something to happen.
I shined the flashlight from one corner to the other. I walked around the basement and as I reached the far corner, near the washer and dryer, I stopped. My heart sank. I almost dropped the flashlight. I had found Clyde. He was sitting against the wall, leaning against the washer. His feet were folded and at first glance I thought he might just be asleep, but when I looked closer I knew better. He was sleeping, but a sleep that he would not wake up from. I knelt in front of his body and looked for any signs of what happened. I didn’t have to look long. His wrists had been cut, diagonally. I said a prayer and closed his eyelids. I knew I would have to move his body, but I didn’t have the energy right then.
I stood up and cursed myself.
“If only I had known what you meant when you said goodbye last night and not goodnight. Damn it, Clyde.” I spoke to him like he was still alive. I stood there for a long time remembering him and the journey that united us. And then a disturbing thought hit me. I wondered if he would go to heaven, if such a place existed since he committed suicide. And even now I don’t know. I think I read someplace or someone told me that suicides don’t go to heaven, they go someplace else. I guess it doesn’t matter. If there is a God, he will let Clyde and Mary spend eternity together; it’s as simple as that. I heard Katie calling my name. I turned and ran toward the
stairs, not wanting her to see his body.
“I’m coming.” I yelled, as I ran up the stairs. She met me at the doorway and said good morning and kissed me on the lips. I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a long hug.
“Wow. Thanks. What was that for? Not that I’m complaining.”
She slid her hand up the back of my shirt, lightly rubbing my back, as she waited for me to respond.
“I have to tell you something. I think you should sit down.” Her smile faded and we both walked toward the table. Once she was sitting, I told her what I had seen. She started crying, even before I finished. She wasn’t completely surprised and I guess neither was I. I pushed my chair closer to her and held her as she cried. I didn’t cry, but I wish I had.
Emma woke up and Katie and I took turns telling her that Clyde was gone. We didn’t go into the details, but just said that we had passed away and that he was with Mary. She cried and kept to herself most of the day. She spent her time with Harry Potter. She had finished Last of the Mohicans and said she didn’t understand anything in the book. We left her alone.
The next couple of weeks were an adjustment. The generator stopped working. We still had fuel, but it wouldn’t start. I tried to fix it, but failed. Our family of five was now down to three. In a way, I felt as if I lost my parents all over again. And I’m sure Emma felt as if she had lost her grandparents. Mary and Clyde were part of the family. The day after Clyde passed away; I woke early and dug his grave. His grave was next to Mary’s grave. I moved his body and carefully lowered him to the dirt ground. I climbed out of the grave, and looked down at him. I had wrapped him in a sheet, I wanted to do more, but we didn’t have anything better than the sheet. I shoveled dirt into the grave, until it was level with the land. I used the shovel and patted the dirt down. I made a cross out of two tree branches, using fishing line to tie them together. I pushed the cross into the ground and walked back into the house to get Emma and Katie.
We had a quick service. No one recited anything or tossed any flowers on his grave. It was cold outside and no flowers were in sight. Katie was speechless. She quietly cried while holding Emma’s hand. I stood apart from them and quietly said a prayer to myself. After about ten minutes they went back into the cabin. I stood next to the grave for another hour. The wind was cold against my face, and my sweater barely helped keep the cold air from chilling my skin. I don’t know why, but standing there, in the cold, next to Clyde and Mary’s graves, I thought of Natasha.
I wondered if she had met a group of people while trying to find me and Emma and if she considered them her new family. Had she met another guy? Was she buried in the ground, waiting for me in heaven? It was late morning and the sun was hiding behind a wall of clouds. The sky was empty, no birds in sight. They had already gone south for the winter. The trees were bare and looked dead.
I turned around and looked at the cabin. I had a perfect view of the kitchen window. Smoke came out of the chimney. I couldn’t see Katie or Emma, but I knew that Katie would have the tea kettle in the fireplace and would be preparing breakfast or lunch. It didn’t really matter; after all we didn’t exactly have eggs and bacon. Emma would most likely be reading her Harry Potter book. Life had become predictable and boring.
I wanted change. I thought about finding a new home for us, but I didn’t want to put Emma in danger. If it had just been me, I would’ve left. I would’ve got in the Jeep and drove with no destination. I wanted to find more survivors, but in the same sense I was scared of the survivors as much as the infected. But still I wanted to find someone. I wanted to believe that there were people alive. But now it doesn’t seem to matter. We are alive and that is all that counts right now. I know one day we will begin our search, but we won’t be searching for just supplies, we will be searching for people like us. I’ve decided when the time is right, we will head west. I promised Emma a trip to California. I’ve broken enough promises in my life and that was one promise I intended to keep.
As I stood there, my hands shaking from the cold, I watched my breath. I closed my eyes and pictured my breath as cigarette smoke. What I would’ve gave for a cigarette. I don’t remember the last time I smoked, but it has been way too long and I still crave a smoke everyday.
On my weekly supply trips I’ve looked for smokes, I didn’t even care what brand I found. I just wanted a smoke. I once found an old cigar, but it was destroyed, and had what looked like dried blood on it. I even thought about cleaning it and taking one deep drag, but I didn’t. Yes, that is how desperate I was for a smoke. And in truth I’d still love a smoke. It doesn’t bother me everyday. Certain days, like the day we buried Clyde my body ached for nicotine. It’s my weakness, one of my many. I never claimed to be perfect, nor do I care that I’m not. I’m human and I think, all in all, I’m a good person. Though, I guess it depends on the definition of a good person.
The week after Clyde passed I kept busy. I gathered enough firewood to last the winter. I hunted and fished day and night. We used two coolers that we kept outside, packed with snow, to keep our food cold. The snow was a nice welcome. Emma loved the snow, so she was in heaven. I built her a snowman, and together we built a snow fort. We had snowball fights and even went sledding. We drank hot tea on the porch as we watched the snow come down in perfect clarity. The nights were beautiful. We kept the fire going day and night to keep the cabin warm. The well was dry so we melted snow using the tea kettle for bathing and drinking. We melted as much snow as we could filling every container we could find. We used the water sparingly and often Emma and Katie bathed together. We limited our baths to twice a week. The days we didn’t bath we used washcloths and wiped our bodies down.
It was a routine. It was life. I knew come spring I would have to find more supplies. I had searched the surrounding area and knew it was time to venture farther away, which meant I would have to leave Emma and Katie alone for longer than I would want. I considered bringing them with, but decided against it. Katie had a rifle and Emma knew how to handle Clyde’s handgun. I showed her how to handle the hand gun a while ago. As of yet, she hasn’t had to fire it, and I hope it stays that way. We keep the handgun on a shelf in the living room. We keep one rifle in the living room and one in the bedroom. I have a baseball bat in the kitchen.
Chapter Twenty
We had been sitting around the fireplace talking about our new plan when I heard the noise. It sounded like a distant car, I thought. But then I quickly dismissed that idea. We hadn’t seen a car in a long time, well, a car that was being driven. The sound came closer and closer. I quickly jumped to my feet and grabbed my rifle. Katie grabbed her rifle. Emma remained sitting. She looked up from her Harry Potter book and then quickly lowered her eyes and continued reading. I could see fear in her eyes. She continued reading, hiding her fear, and trying to jump into a different world; a world without the infected. A world of Harry Potter. I wish I had the luxury of escape.
I ran to the door, nearly tripping on a box of supplies that we had forgotten to put away. I reached the door and paused. I looked at Katie and she moved her lips. I didn’t hear the words, but I know what words her lips had formed. I love you.
I opened the front door and walked onto the porch, Katie followed. I stood on the front porch and listened. I looked toward the driveway, but didn’t see anything. Katie walked beside me and raised her rifle, ready for action. I chuckled and gave her a quick smile. I don’t know what it was, despite the situation, she looked extremely cute and funny.
“What are you laughing about?” she asked.
“Nothing, you’re just so damn cute standing there with that rifle and your messy hair.”
She lowered the rifle and ran her free hand through her hair. She watched me while her fingers ran through her hair. She no longer looked cute and funny but amazingly beautiful. The wind carefully moved her hair about and blew a strand of hair across her face, hiding her eyes for a brief second.
“You should look in the mirror.” She replied.
> We both laughed and continued laughing until the noise interrupted us. We stopped laughing and listened. It was a car. Or some type of vehicle. It sounded close, but I wasn’t certain. The woods have a way of playing tricks on your hearing. Sounds echo too much. I walked off the porch and started walking toward the street. I debated on getting in the Jeep and driving down the driveway, but I didn’t want to make any noise. If it was a car I didn’t want to attract attention. Katie stayed on the porch and watched me. She didn’t say anything. I expected her to tell me not to go, but she didn’t. I think she also wanted to escape. Perhaps crawl into one of her Harlequin Romance books. The idea made me smirk.
I kept walking and finally came around the first bend in the driveway. And that’s when I saw it. It was a car. In fact it was an old fashioned police car. It was slowly driving toward me. I couldn’t see the driver. I was in plain sight. Not a good position to be in. I debated on moving to the left and taking shelter behind a group of trees, but figured it was pointless. Whoever was in the car had already seen me.
The cop car, at a very slow pace, moved closer. I raised my rifle and pointed it directly at the wind-shield. The car stopped.
I kept my rifle raised, ready to shoot. The cop car didn’t move. Neither did I. We watched each other. I waited for the driver to open the door. I walked a few feet closer. My hands were shaking and did my best to hide my fear. My finger stayed firmly on the trigger. I walked until I was less than twenty feet away from the car. The shadows from the trees hide the driver.
“What do you want?” I yelled. My own voice scared me. The driver side door opened, slowly.
“Lower your weapon, please. I don’t mean you any harm. I’m not a cop, I found this car a couple months ago and figured there wouldn’t be any harm in taking it. I’m just looking for supplies and people. I haven’t seen anyone in a long time; well, at least not alive. I’m not armed.”