Time of Death (Book 2): Asylum

by Shana Festa

  Meg was at the top of the stairs, still dressed in her dirty clothes, and staring at us. Her arms wrapped around her tiny waist in a protective hug, and she made no effort to come closer.

  "Meg," I said, starting toward her. Vinny's head snapped up, and he looked guilty and concerned all at once.

  She let me lead her down to her brothers and I patted the bench next to me as I sat. I put my arm around her shoulder, drawing her close. Her puffy red eyes met mine, and my heart clenched with sadness for her. They say the eyes are the windows to one's soul, and hers looked like hollow, empty, orbs. The light that had once twinkled so brightly in those beautiful brown irises was gone.

  I wrapped my arms around her frail body tighter and drew her into a real hug. "Oh, Meggy, I'm so sorry," I whispered. She buried her head in my chest and cried, soft mewling sounds escaping as she was once again pulled under by her grief. Losing Will was hard on all of us, and I sympathized with her pain. It reminded me of how I felt when I thought Jake was dead.

  We sat, the four of us, serenaded by the sounds of Meg's sorrow and the undead begging for our flesh. Eventually, her tears stopped falling, and she sucked in stuttering, forced inhalations as she fought to catch her breath. When her breathing returned to normal, she pulled her head up and looked at me with swollen eyes. A small twitch at the corner of her lips was all she managed, but it was something. I took it as a positive sign; Meg would come back from this, hard as it may be, she would be okay, eventually.

  * * *

  "What are you, a fucking moron?" Vinny ran his fingers through his hair while he berated me.

  "Cut the shit, Vin," Jake defended me, as any good husband should.

  "Seriously? You don't think she's an idiot?"

  "Yeah, a little, but can you blame her for asking? Wouldn't you be thinking the same thing if it was our parents?"

  "Excuse me?" I cautioned, my tone of warning earning a sheepish look from Jake. Daphne reacted to my pitch and looked up at me with guilt. I don't know what it is about dogs, but they always feel guilty for something. I'd suspect the tiny poop-machine had tucked away a little brown package somewhere and was just waiting for us to find it.

  "I didn't mean that," he protested. "Of course I don't think you're an idiot. What I meant was you're thinking emotionally, not rationally. It's December. It may be a bit cool in Florida, but if we tried to make it to Boston we'd be snowed in before making it even halfway there."

  I slumped back on the sofa and let out an exasperated breath. "Yeah, I know."

  Jake sat down next to me and took my hands in what he intended to be a compassionate gesture. It felt more placating to me. "Emma, we have no idea what the highways are like. Think about how difficult it was to navigate the streets in our small town. Even if we wanted to, it would probably take us weeks to make it there, maybe even months."

  "Not to mention," piped in Vinny, "it would be freezing, and just because we got word from the north that they still had power, there's no telling if it would still be on by the time we got there."

  Vinny had been pacing the same path for an hour now, and his tracks made a clear impression on the carpet. I wasn't sure the material would recover if he kept it up.

  "Jesus, Vin, you're making me dizzy. Take a seat, will ya?" I asked.

  He rolled his eyes at me and gave a huff of annoyance, but took the cue and sat down at the kitchen table.

  "Do you guys have a better plan?" I eyed both of them expectantly. "It's not like we can just live on the boat. What do we have, like a week's worth of food and water? Two at best?"

  My frustration level had been creeping up for about thirty minutes, and I could feel myself teetering on the verge of an outburst. It was one thing to shoot down my ideas, but at least provide some sort of alternative. Instead, they both sat there staring back at me as if I would pull the answer out of my ass like a magician. Meg sat on the other side of the sofa, listening to our bickering, but not offering any suggestions of her own. It wasn't like I really expected her to. I was just relieved she wasn't hiding under the covers drowning in grief.

  "I still think we should go back to mom and dad's house," Vinny offered, for the third time. "They have automatic hurricane shutters, and you know their pantry is stocked. We could try to wait things out there."

  "Seriously, Vin," chastised Jake. "Give it up. We aren't going to lock ourselves in and hope for the best."

  "I don't get it. You had a front row seat to the apocalypse every time you left to scavenge. How could you think for even a second that's a remotely good plan?" I looked over at Jake and gave him the please knock some sense into your brother look.

  "It's better than a suicide road trip up the east coast," he retorted.

  That was it! The look on his face sucked away the last of my patience and I felt my cheeks go red. Jake saw it, too, and after ten years of marriage he knew what was coming next. Bless his heart for stepping in when he did.

  "All right, all right, both your ideas blow. We don't need to solve everything today. Let's take a break and figure out what's for dinner."

  Meg was rummaging through her backpack and pulled out a checkbook-sized calendar, one of those free ones banks give you for opening a new account. Like anyone used checks anymore, even before the zombies. When she opened the wrinkled calendar I saw black crosses marking the days, she must have been keeping track. She let out a sarcastic laugh.

  "Yesterday was Christmas Eve, which makes today Christmas. Ho, ho, ho, can't you just feel the holiday spirit?"

  "I don't think Santa made the rounds last night," quipped Jake.

  The four of us sat around the dinner table sharing cans of green beans, Spam, and corn. For dessert, a can of peaches sat in the center of the table.

  "Prime Rib," I said. My mouth watered just thinking of my mother-in-law's prime rib.

  "Mashed potatoes," added Jake.

  "Green bean casserole," said Meg and Vinny in unison.

  We all sat licking our lips and making grunts of approval as we listed off our favorite foods served on the holidays. Our current feast was a miserable pittance. We sprinkled the green beans with a meager dusting of Molly McButter in hopes of adding a touch of flavor.

  "Worst Christmas ever," Jake declared, and we all agreed.

  "Ooh!" I jumped up from the table, leaving them looking stunned and confused, and ran to the bedroom. I returned looking triumphant and waving my iPhone in the air.

  "I may not be able to talk to anyone, but there's still a little juice in this baby. What's Christmas without Burl Ives and Bing Crosby? Thanks to my random taste in music, I've got an awesome Christmas play list." I put the phone on the counter and hit play. “Jingle Bells” started off the list, lifting our spirits despite the gravity of our situation. A few more uplifting songs and all four of us were singing along with the greats.

  A short pause left us in anticipation of the next song; the possibilities were endless. The power of music was amazing; I had forgotten how easy it was for a song to evoke emotion. Dean Martin's smooth baritone crooned from the small speaker with his version of “Silent Night.” The little contentment we built up fizzled as the depressing tune played out. By the end of the song there wasn't a dry eye among us. If it was possible, we felt even lower than we had before I whipped out the phone.

  Meg stared down at her feet. "Thanks, guys, I needed that. I think I'm going to go lay down and try to get some sleep."

  "Do you want me to come sit with you until you fall asleep?" I asked her.

  "Nah, I'm good."

  Jake leaned over and gave her forehead a kiss. "Night, Meggy."

  I wasn't tired yet; the sun had barely made its exit for the night. My mind was jumbled with memories of our friends and their fates. The boys were deep in debate about which rifle, the M4 or M16, was the better weapon.

  "I'm going up on deck for some air," I proclaimed.

  They barely noticed me as I walked by. Daphne wove excitedly between my feet as I climbed the stairs, caus
ing me to trip and stumble up a few steps. My elbow hit the wall when I tried to steady myself, causing a sharp sting to shoot up to my shoulder, and I yelped in pain.

  "You okay?" Jake called from inside.

  "Yeah, damn dog got underfoot and I hit my weenus on the wall."

  I heard Vinny ask what I was talking about, and Jake explained that the weenus is that weird flap of skin on the elbow. Personally, I was confounded by the weenus. It's so strange. I can squeeze the skin hard enough that I should feel pain, but instead I feel nothing. But hit that thing head on and the nerve pain is crippling. Okay, so I know the human anatomy well enough to realize there's a more technical term for it, but weenus just stuck. Olecranon doesn't really flow off the tongue like weenus.

  "Come on, you little shit," I beckoned Daphne to the top of the stairs.

  The smell of smoke still lingered on the breeze, and I still couldn't figure out if I was imagining it or if it was real. Me and the pooch-wonder stretched out on the bench and lay there staring up at the sky. The stars were the only things that hadn't changed in this crazy world. Daphne nudged my hand in an effort to garner some attention, and when I didn't give her what she wanted, she inched up my chest with her front paws until she was inches away from my face. I let out a snicker and the rise of my chest gave her a little bounce.

  It was a Mexican standoff. We stared into each other's eyes waiting for the other to break first. When I didn't resume the petting, she upped the ante. Her paw rose in the air and she held it for a few seconds, daring me not to pet her. Then, she hit me in the face a few times.

  "Okay, I give," I resigned, and scooped her up for some kisses. "You are seriously the cutest dog in the world, and I mean even before you were most likely the last dog left in the world."

  Another smell mixed in with the phantom smoke and fetid corpses. "Oh, come on!" I waved my hand wildly in front of my face and objected. "Did you seriously have to wait until you were inches from my face to fart? Gross!"

  With dog farts marking the end of my peaceful relaxation, I tucked her under my arm and was going to make my way to bed when I noticed Jake had joined us on deck.

  "What are you doing just standing there in the dark? Creepy much?"

  "Sorry, you were having a moment; I didn't want to ruin it for you. These days, we've gotta make the most of every minute of peace."

  "Ain't that the truth?" I patted the seat beside me and beckoned for him to join me.

  He sat down and I leaned into him. His strong arms wrapped around me felt good and I got closer.

  "Penny for your thoughts?" he said.

  I looked up into his face and sighed. "I feel lost," I admitted. "What's the point of living if all that's left is death?"

  My vision blurred as my eyes filled with tears that spilled over and slid down my cheeks. I took in a deep breath and went on. "Jesus, Jake. They're all gone. How am I supposed to go on when every time I close my eyes, I'm haunted by their faces?"

  He squeezed me tighter and Daphne whined from the confinement between us, causing Jake to pull back just enough so she wasn't being crushed. We sat in the dark, the only source of light a crescent moon, and withdrew into ourselves. When the silence became oppressive, I spoke again, this time my voice coming out muffled with emotion.

  "It's my fault Adam is dead; it should have been me. It's not fair." I sobbed. "It's not fucking fair."

  "He was a good man, a good friend, and he loved you." His admission brought me up short, and I snapped my head up to look at him.

  "I…what? How did you know?" My face flushed with guilt, as if I was somehow to blame for the way Adam felt.

  "Anyone could see the way he felt about you. The way he looked at you, treated you." He looked into my eyes, and there was pity there. "I know you had feelings for him, too. I'm not angry at you, I get it. I was gone and he was there for you."

  "Jake," I started, "I never—"

  "Stop. I know nothing ever happened. I'm not accusing you of anything, I promise. I'm grateful to him for being there for you. I can't imagine what you went through when I didn't come back to Target, and Adam stepped up to the plate. I'm forever in his debt and will never be anything but thankful and honored to call him a friend."

  The guilt I had carried for so long about my feelings for Adam lessened a bit, and the pressing weight lifted just a little. I cried that wailing, ugly, cry reserved for the direst of circumstances, and my husband just held me close, muttering soft words of support and encouragement. "Let it go, baby. Let it all go."

  He lifted my face, inspecting the open wound on my chin that I'd received the day before. Wincing, he said, "That really should be stitched up. It's going to leave a nasty scar."

  "Humph," I mumbled. "Everything from yesterday is going to leave a nasty scar."

  When my tank of despair ran dry and my sobbing quieted, I said goodbyes to Adam, Seth, and the rest of our friends who perished. The conscious decision to let them go didn't come easily, but if I didn't, I would drown in sadness and squander the reprieve each of their sacrifices had provided me. Looking up at the night sky, I said each of their names aloud and emotionally guided them through the gates of Heaven. I paused after uttering Adam’s name and added, "We will never forget you."

  Chapter 02: That's What She Said

  I wasn't the only one who made their peace with Sanibel, even Meg acted as if a huge weight had been lifted overnight. She was already up when I dragged my tired behind out of bed and escorted her royal highness to the upper deck for her morning constitutional. Daphne's nub of a tail wagged in excitement as she caught sight of Meg and she looked at me for approval to leave my side.

  "Go ahead," I encouraged, the lilting tone of my response was all the urging needed for her to dart across the fiberglass surface and over to my sister-in-law's waiting arms. Say what you want about having the burden of an unpredictable animal in times like these, but the rewards grossly outweigh the risk.

  I'd seen, firsthand, the joy my precious bundle brought to each life she'd touched since society collapsed. There was no doubt about it; Daphne was a morale builder. I can't count the number of times I would have considered throwing in the towel if she weren't with me.

  "Dude," I heard Vinny call out, "this boat is fucking awesome. Hey, Jake, I think it might be even nicer than your house." He let out an appreciative whistle while he walked the length of the deck and took in all the amenities.

  "You won't hear any disagreements from me, bud," Jake replied without turning his head. He had a speculative look on his face and was inspecting the dock and surrounding area. I recounted and discovered our fan club still sat at eight.

  Hmm, I thought, maybe the lack of additional zombies meant something.

  "You've got to be shitting me, a hot tub?" Vinny lifted the cover and peered into the empty Jacuzzi. "Damn," he uttered, letting the top fall back into place and made his way to the back corner where his jaw fell open and he looked at his new discovery in awe.

  "A waterslide? We have a freaking water-slide?"

  "Yeah, but I wouldn't suggest using it so close to shore. There's no telling what nastiness you'd be jumping into," chimed Jake.

  Vinny shuddered thinking of what was under the murky water. "True-that. We are so taking that baby for a spin sometime soon, though. I think we should fill the hot tub and let the sun heat up the water. What good is a luxurious floating mansion without the amenities?"

  Meg laughed at her brother's reaction—a sound I never thought I'd hear again—and it was sweet music to my ears. Pretty soon we were all laughing, and like a well-needed tension breaker, it's therapeutic effect helped wash away some of the gloom that hung over our heads.

  Beyond Jake, something from land glinted in the sunlight and drew my attention. I scanned the area and found nothing. About to write it off as a figment of my imagination, it happened again. This time, because I was looking for it, I was able to hone in on its location like an eagle zeroing in on its prey.

  I was up on my
feet in an instant and running to the front of the boat.

  "What is it?" prodded Jake as the three of them reached my side.

  "I saw something, over there." I pointed to a house a few streets over, a small corner visible through a gap in the closest row of homes. "There it is again!"

  "I see it, too," Meg exclaimed with excitement. "In the corner window."

  Our closer proximity to the zombies beyond the seawall riled them up and their efforts to reach us increased with a renewed vigor. The two closest to the water fell in with a loud plop and were replaced with two more. And then there were six.

  We waved our arms over our heads in the universal sign for SOS. Each round of waves were answered by another flash of sunlight reflected back at us. Our excitement was palpable, and the air around us was charged with electricity.

  "Holy crap," blurted Meg. "There's someone out there."

  The next few hours were spent talking about how to deal with our new friend and if we should risk the trip to investigate. We were split evenly, the boys wanting to go on a commando mission, the girls not ready to put their lives at risk again so soon. As the morning went on, we continued to see the signal in response to our attempts to make contact.

  "What kind of boat has no binoculars?" whined Vinny.

  Jake kicked himself for taking them when we landed at Sanibel and never thinking to put them back.

  "This one, so deal with it," he chided. "Okay, we're at a stalemate. We want to go and you want to stay. So let's compromise. You stay back and guard the boat and we'll go see what's up."

  "I realize you missed a lot of what happened the last time we tried that plan, but if you remember correctly, your sister and me were almost raped. Not to mention, I'm sure I don't need to remind you of the last time you left on a mission against my better judgment. All of us go, or none at all. I'm not about to lose you again." My words hit their target and they cringed from the reminder.