by J. L. Murray
“Fuck this shit,” said a guy with a hastily shaved head. “There’s an Expo in Boulder. We can be there in an hour. Let’s take a vote.”
Jenny didn’t stay to hear what they decided. She already knew.
“Come on, Zeke,” she said, walking toward the creek. “You can sleep in my tent. You’ll be safe.”
Zeke followed, but didn’t speak. Jenny liked that about him. He was quiet when she didn’t feel like talking. He was easy to be around even when she was feeling her worst.
When they got to the small clearing, Zeke looked at the one small tent and looked back at Jenny. Trix sat by a roaring fire, snorting in derision when she saw Zeke.
“Fucking suicide,” she said.
“There’s only one tent,” he said.
“Dead people don’t sleep, bitch,” said Trix.
Jenny shrugged. “She grows on you.”
“Where are you going to sleep?” said Zeke. “You’re alive now.”
“Don’t worry about me,” said Jenny, trying for a smile. She felt her shoulders sag. “I don’t really sleep as much as rest. I’d do anything to sleep. To really sleep.”
“Do you still…”
“What?” said Jenny. “Do I still think about ripping the meat off of everyone I see? Do I still dream about warm blood running down my throat? Do I still want to kill all the time?”
“Well…yeah,” said Zeke.
“Yeah, of course I do,” said Jenny. “But I can control it.”
“How do you know you’re safe?”
Jenny looked at Trix. “Hey, Trix, do you want to eat me?”
“Fuck no,” said Trix. “You still smell like a dead bitch.”
“I’m safe,” said Jenny. “Get some sleep.”
“What are you going to do?” said Zeke.
“I’ve got to find an Undead with a death wish.”
“You’re going to look for Declan?”
“You got any insight for me?” said Jenny. “I don’t know how to help him.”
Zeke shook his head. “I don’t know, Jen. It’s a little fuzzy when it comes to him, to be perfectly honest. I don’t know why, but I can rarely see Declan clearly.”
Jenny nodded. “Okay. Sleep tight.”
“Be careful,” he said.
“Don’t worry about me,” said Jenny. “I’m bulletproof, remember?”
Zeke was snoring minutes after zipping up the sleeping bag. Jenny crossed over to Trix.
“He’s never going to be the same,” Trix said. There was an odd softness to her voice that was unlike her. “You can’t fix him, Jenny.”
“None of us are the same,” said Jenny. “But I have to try.”
“I know,” she said. “We’ve lost too much.”
“Watch over the Prophet,” said Jenny. “He’s the only one who knows where we’re going.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
Jenny left Trix staring into the fire. She had to find Declan. Because without Declan, she was just a freak made by her grandfather in a lab. Without Declan, the whole world could burn, for all she cared.
TWO
“Declan?” Jenny stopped, mid-step. Someone was standing among the trees. She squinted and the figure turned and started to walk away. It wasn’t Declan. It was someone taller and thinner. Jenny walked after him.
“Hey!” she said, and something scurried away in the bushes.
The man —she was sure it was a man — stopped and turned to look at her. His hair was sticking up on end. A cloud passed and the moon shone down, filtered through the pine needles. And she saw his face. Even from a distance, she knew his face.
“Casey? Oh my God, Casey?”
He looked back at her and shook his head. He looked so sad. He raised his arm and pointed over towards a group of trees. Jenny turned to see what he was pointing at. And when she looked back he was gone.
“Casey!” she said, running to the place he had been standing. “Casey, please.”
There was no sign of him. Jenny looked down where he’d been pointing and saw Declan, standing with his back to her. Jenny could practically taste the blood that saturated his pants and matted his hair. Her stomach growled.
She looked around again for her brother, but he was gone. Not gone, Casey was dead. It was impossible for him to be here. Sully had cut him open and filled him with metal and wires. Jenny had buried him. Her brother was definitely, without a doubt, dead.
“I’m going crazy,” she said. She closed her eyes and took a breath. She was just sleep-deprived. She was so incredibly tired that it felt like torture to be awake. These days she was always awake and hungry. Becoming a Living again hadn’t changed her hunger, and occasionally she still felt the familiar rage as when she first became Undead, the intensity of it oddly comforting. Without the anger, she just felt a hollow grief most of the time. Trix had become something of a friend, but she wasn’t exactly the warm and cozy type. Declan had been the only person who kept her going, and she felt herself losing him. Casey was gone, she knew that. And he was the only family she was willing to claim, so Declan was all she had left.
Jenny shook her head. A hallucination. That was all. She walked toward Declan. He was standing perfectly still, and when the moonlight shone on him, Jenny could see the blood dried and crackling on the back of his neck.
“Declan?”
He turned slowly and it seemed to Jenny that he looked more like himself than he had since that night. The night he died. Jenny couldn’t think of it without feeling as though the breath had been knocked out of her. Feeding Declan her own flesh had brought him back to her, but at what cost? He was still a rotter, and nothing she said or did was going to fix it. She didn’t blame Declan for hating her. She hated herself for what had happened. But maybe, sometime soon, he would change back the same way she did. His heart would start pumping, his lungs would draw breath, and they could be themselves again. Jenny watched Declan’s face, holding her breath.
Declan leaned into the moonlight and Jenny saw that his eyes were still white. Dead man’s eyes. She let out her breath and felt her shoulders sag. His skin was rosier, but she knew in a matter of hours it would go back to chalky white. He motioned her over and she stepped up to the edge of the cliff, which, she now saw, was a sheer drop into darkness. It made her dizzy to look down.
“What are you doing here?” she said gently.
“They’re all dead,” he said, staring into the canyon. “There’s a cabin, can you see it? But they’re dead. Frozen to death last winter, maybe. I don’t smell any rotters.” He glanced at her. “Any other rotters anyway.”
“Declan, step away from the edge.”
He turned to look at her. “I’m not going to jump, Jen. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“But you want to,” Jenny said.
He lifted one bare and filthy foot and let it hover over the edge. Just a shift of weight and he would be gone. But he pulled it back and stepped away. Jenny choked back a sob and turned so he wouldn't see.
“It wouldn’t kill me anyway,” said Declan. “I’d just be broken until there was nothing left of me. Isn’t that right?”
“That’s right,” she said. She couldn’t look at him. She couldn’t let him see her weak like this. “Do what you want, Declan,” she managed, a thickness in her throat. “I’m not going to stop you. Not anymore.” She took five steps toward camp before she felt cold fingers grasping her arm.
“Jen, please,” he said. “I can’t stand it if you don’t look at me. Is it so fucking bad that you can’t even look at me anymore?”
Jenny turned and, pulling him down, she pressed her lips to his. He was cold and tasted of meat, and it took everything Jenny had to not lick the blood from his face. She pulled away and looked at him.
“I don’t care what you are,” she said. “Just like you didn’t care what I was. Remember, Declan? You said you didn’t know how to be without me.”
“Yeah, well, this is different,” he said weakly. “I’m not even myself a
nymore.”
“Do you think it was any different for me?” said Jenny. “I shut you out for so long. I hid myself away from you but you found me and made me see. Don’t you get that it’s the same? It’s exactly the fucking same and if you can’t understand that, maybe I was wrong about you.”
When Jenny turned, when she became Undead, she hid herself away from Declan, unwilling to let him see her. Afraid that she would kill him. He found her and convinced her not to run, convinced her that they could still be together, convinced her that she wasn't as different as she thought. They were each other's salvation, always had been. But it wasn't so simple.
“I killed someone tonight,” he said. He took her hand and looked down at it. “Just a kid. I was at the creek and I could smell them, all the Living. And then I was just there, tearing him apart, swallowing his…” Declan pursed his lips together. “It wasn’t right, Jen. I don’t want to be this thing. I’m out of control. What if I hurt you?”
“You won’t,” said Jenny. “I’m not Living. Not exactly.”
“Well, maybe not you, but what about everyone else? Zeke’s your friend. What if I hurt him? Would you still love me if I killed your friend?”
Jenny opened her mouth to speak, but found she had nothing to say. Finally she closed her eyes and tried again.
“It’ll get better,” she said. “Even if you don’t change back. Trix is the oldest and she doesn’t have to eat very often. And she can control it.”
“What about you?” he said. “You came back from this. Are you better? Are you cured?”
“I’m…not like I was before. I still think about it. I still want it. But it’s easier to fight it. I’m in control more. But all of it’s still lurking under the surface. It scares me, but I can hold it back.”
“So even if I come back, I’m still going to want it?” he said. “The killing, the blood, the meat. Nothing will change.”
“It’s different,” she said. She met his eyes. “It’s better.”
“It’s no way to live.”
“None of it is any way to live,” she said, suddenly angry. She stepped back from him. “Even when we were alive, it was no way to live. We’re just existing in the best of circumstances. I don’t see how any of it is any better or any worse. Just learn to control it, Declan. Stop complaining about how bad everything is. I fucking know how bad it is. Okay? I fucking know more than anyone. And I know I did this to you. I understand that you probably hate me, and that’s fucking fine. It’s great. But fuck you, Munro. Fuck you. I saved you. And maybe I did it for myself, but you would have done the same thing. It destroyed you when I died. You would have done anything to save me. I’m sorry, but I would do it again in a goddamn heartbeat. So have your fucking pity party, but you should know that it’s not just about you. It’s about me, too. And Trix and Zeke and the rest of the shit world.”
“Jen…” he said, reaching for her hand. She pushed him away.
“No,” she said, her anger filling her up. She felt hot tears running down her face. “I can’t keep doing this, Deck. You used to be mine, all mine and nobody else's. I don’t know how to be without you either. But I also don’t know how to fucking be with you hating yourself and everyone around you. Even V and Beacon couldn’t take seeing you this way, and they’ve known you longer.”
“They’ll be back. They’re scouting.”
“Maybe,” she said. “Maybe they’ll die out there because they couldn’t stand to see you hurting. Do you realize that? They would rather die than see you in pain, Declan. That is how you affect us. Everyone is on your side. So stop treating us like the enemy.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice a whisper.“I know how this has been. I know you went through the same thing. And I don’t blame you.”
“You don’t?” she said. She wiped tears away angrily with the heel of her hand. “Well why the fuck not? It’s my fault.”
“No, it’s not,” he said. He took her hand. “I’m sorry. I’ll try, okay? I’ll try to be a better man.” He tried to smile. “A better dead man.”
“It’s going to get better,” she said. “I hated it when they said it to me, but it’s true. It gets easier. And you’re not as angry anymore.”
“Yeah, but I’m one depressing motherfucker,” he said.
“Yeah, you are,” she said. And then, more seriously, “Deck, don’t shut me out. Never shut me out. I can’t live like that. I don’t like being treated like a stranger.”
“I promise,” he said.
“I’m going to save you,” she said. “We’ll figure this shit out and save the fuck out of everyone.”
“Okay, Jenny.”
“We’ll save the whole fucking world.”
THREE
When they stopped so the Living could sleep, Jenny was struck by the quiet. No rotters thrashing around, grunting and groaning and yipping as their brains turned to mush. No Expo or Heathens making a racket. Just trees and a creek with icy clean water. They couldn’t even see the mountains in the distance because the forest was so lush and overgrown. As she and Declan walked back to camp, she could hear distant birds, not just carrion, but tweeting, songbirds. Like the ones she had taken for granted before the Collapse. A squirrel ran in front of her and she froze.
“That was a fucking squirrel,” she said.
“Living one, too,” said Declan, equally surprised.
“I thought they were all dead.”
“Apparently not,” said Declan. “But we found goats before, so it makes sense that there might be other wildlife, too. Just not in the city.”
“How big is Boulder?” said Jenny. “Do you know?”
“It’s mostly deserted, especially this time of year,” he said. “Fall is coming, and all the dirty little Heathens tend to go south for the winter.”
“How big is the Expo here?”
“It’s fairly small,” said Declan. “You have to be pretty determined to come to Boulder these days. I haven’t been, but Beacon’s been here. He said it was less than half the size of the Chicago Expo. Why?”
“Just wondering,” said Jenny.
The sky was lightening by the time they got back to camp. Trix, throwing dirt on the fire, looked up and glared at Declan.
“Did you get over yourself yet?” she said.
“Yes,” said Declan.
“About fucking time. Hey, cheerleader. Your little buddy isn’t very healthy.”
“Zeke?” said Jenny. She glanced at the tent. She could hear him breathing deeply inside. “How can you tell?”
“I can smell it,” said Trix. She made a face. “Fucker is sick. Really sick.”
“You can smell it?” Jenny looked at Declan. “Can you smell him?”
“Yeah,” said Declan. “It’s like…spoiled food.”
“Seriously?” said Jenny. “You had to call him food?”
Trix shrugged. “Seems reasonable to me.”
Jenny sighed. “If he really is sick, what are we going to do about it?”
“Nothing we can do,” said Trix. “Just let him sleep in the car I guess. Or we could leave him here.”
“No,” said Jenny.
“Just a thought,” said Trix.
“He’s the only one who knows where this bunker is,” said Jenny. “And he’s one of us. Even if he is a Living. He saved my life.”
“Yeah, he knows shit,” said Declan. “Best to have him on our side. And we owe him. Jenny might not even be here if it wasn't for him.”
“He might attract Righteous,” said Trix. “Probably not, but we should be prepared.”
“I’ve seen Righteous,” said Jenny. “Trust me, they’re not fighters. Well, most of them aren’t. Most of the men look like somebody’s dad who’d rather wash his SUV than shoot a gun.”
“And the women?” said Trix.
“They’re…subservient, I guess is the nicest word,” said Jenny.
“The ones in Chicago,” said Declan. “Do we know if they’re all like that?”
>
“No,” said Trix. “So we have to be alert. Protect sick-boy’s bitch ass.”
“I can protect my own bitch-ass,” said a hoarse voice from the tent. Zeke staggered out, his face white as a sheet with pink spots in the middle of his cheeks. He was shivering.
“Jesus, you really are sick,” said Jenny.
“Told you,” said Trix.
“I’m fine. Who’s driving?” said Zeke. His teeth chattered.
Jenny reached up and felt his forehead.
“You’re burning up,” she said. “You’re really warm, Zeke. We need to get you to a doc.”
“Those Heathens will be at Expo,” said Trix. “Fuckers probably told everyone about us.”
“Even if they didn’t, it’ll be a pain in the ass to get out of there without a bunch of Living following us,” said Declan. He wouldn’t meet Jenny’s eyes. “I’d rather not risk more lives if we don’t have to.”
“Then stop fucking eating them,” said Trix.
“Will there be repercussions for the kid?” said Jenny. “For Van?”
Declan shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. “It didn’t happen in Expo, so we didn't really break any rules. But he may have had friends. On the other hand, we’re almost out of diesel. Someone at Expo might have some.”
“Even at a tiny Expo?” said Jenny. She remembered what Zeke had said before about staying away from Expo. She looked at Declan and frowned. There had only been a few Heathens and he hadn’t been able to control himself. How could he possibly handle hundreds? But if Zeke was really sick, they might have to chance it.
Expo was the Heathen trading post. There was one in every major city, and recently they'd been popping up in smaller towns. Or in the middle of nowhere. You could trade there and at night it turned into a Heathen festival. The music could be heard for miles, so you always knew when there was an Expo nearby. Violence was prohibited inside the walls, and Prowlers kept the rotters away outside. It was safe. You could get food, diesel when it was available. And every Expo had a doc.
“It’s possible,” said Declan. “And they'll have a doc there.”