by M. D. Massey
“Kan, there’s no bite, darlin’,” Rudy says, rubbing my ankles. I sit, looking my ankles over myself. Nothing.
“What the hell? It bit me, I know it did! I saw it,” I exclaim as Mac hobbles between the cars and bends over to lift the corpse head. The scalp slides off making the head plunk down, and Mac jumps away from it, throwing the rotten scalp away. A mirthless laugh escapes him before he peers at the putrid’s face.
Mac shakes his head and walks back to us. Letting out a breath he says, “Kan, there aren’t any teeth.” He squats next to me and takes my face in both hands. “You’re okay, I promise. No coming back from the dead for you.” His eyes show relief, and he kisses me on the mouth. The public display surprises me, but I give him a small smile, anyway.
After I feel well enough to stand, I put my boots back on. I leave my jeans. I don’t want them anymore. Seeing the zombie bite my leg sets many things into perspective for me. Everyone seems relieved the episode is over, no one more so than me, though.
A hand falls on my shoulder. Reece smiles. “I’m glad I don’t have to shoot you.” I take his statement for the compliment it is, which says he likes me as a person enough not to let me turn. Glinda frets over me, and helps me back to the truck after warning everyone else to be careful.
I find one of Rudy’s hoodies in the vault after sitting on the bench with no pants on for an hour. It’s larger than mine and covers my tush. By this time, everyone gets ready to leave. We ride back in silence. Mac doesn’t say much. It turns out the activity wasn’t good for him because his wounded bum is bleeding. Rudy gets us back to the community quickly.
Stomping through the courtyard in only the hoodie, panties, and boots, I get a few catcalls from the rooftops, as if I’m walking the walk of shame. I display both my naughty fingers the whole way. This only seems to make it worse, and I can’t help laughing, more for joyous relief than in jest. I’m alive.
The first thing I do after helping Mac with his wound is take a long shower – a shower which consists of crying, laughing, and having several revelations. Laughing, as I get to live my life at least until the next day. Crying because anything can happen at any time. Crying some more because I’ve gotten careless. If I weren’t joking around, it wouldn’t have happened. Laughing and reveling because I don’t regret it, and I wouldn’t change it even if that fucking zombie had bitten me.
Rudy waits in the corridor for me. Feeling better now that I’m clean and have on clean clothes (I still haven’t found time to wash any), he stands up from his crouching position on the wall to meet me.
“You had a panic attack?” he asks.
I nod. “First one in a while. I didn’t even realize I was having one.” I bite my lip and walk past him.
He grabs my wrist. “That scared me. I’ve seen it plenty, everyone has, but thinking you were bit…”
“It’s okay, Rudy. I’d feel the same about you.” I meet his gaze.
“I know… You and Mac…” he prompts.
I shrug because I don’t know. He pulls me in for a brief hug. He smells good, like worn leather with a fresh citrusy scent and motor oil.
After he steps away, he smiles, giving me a rare glimpse of those dimples. “Mac is a good guy, Kan.”
“I know.”
“No more getting bit by zombies. With or without teeth.” I glance at him, and his eyes laugh at me.
My small laugh echoes through the hallway. “I’ll try. See you around.”
I walk down the corridor hating how our easy friendship is no longer simple. That happens when you hold things back. Rudy’s easy acceptance of it boils my blood, knowing I’ll always have a soft spot for him. After everything he’s done for me, at least I know he’ll always have a soft spot for me, too.
I’m almost out of the building when I spot Glinda in a doorway fighting with Candy. Big surprise. “Whut you lookin’ at, bitch?” Candy asks me. Wait a minute. I’ve never spoken two words to this woman.
“You shut tha fuck up,” Glinda snarls, shoving Candy in the door. Candy falls backward because of the shoes she wears, and Glinda slams the door shut. “Don’t worry ‘bout that, suga’. Fuckin slut!” she yells toward the door so Candy can hear. She puts her hands on my shoulders and looks into my face. “Just be happy, suga’. Today should make you see. Even though Mac’s an asshole.” Her lips purse together.
I get that impression by the way he interacts with other people. “He’s not to me.”
She looks back to where Rudy and I have been, and I guess she had overheard our conversation. “But he’s got jarhead, jerk-face-fuck written all over ‘im.” She looks down. “I know he ain’t to you, so like I said, be happy and live, suga’,” she says in a softer tone and leaves me in the corridor.
I open the door to the courtyard realizing I don’t have anywhere to go. Fuck me sideways.
25
The next few weeks pass in a blur, teaching people to hotwire, helping Mac with his booth, playing Texas Hold’em for extra cash, side looting jobs with Reece, and long nights in the vault cocooned in blankets to keep myself warm. Mac helped me with techniques to maim someone with my bare hands. I hope I don’t have to use them – not confident enough in my skills. We help Guido with the famished, which are plentiful in the growing cold.
Mac moves better and practices bow shooting with me whenever he gets the chance. He’s learned about my love of running, so we do that, too, having to make adjustments to accommodate his slower pace. Sometimes Rudy and Glinda join us. Glinda obsesses over taking care of her body and enjoys having workout partners. I also found out about the workout room in an office under Guido’s loft, where Sam spends most of his time, hence his huge upper body.
The teams get restless and want action, but Reece insists on waiting until we’re able to make a successful bomb. I don’t mind since I use the time to practice. The situation could get dangerous if we told the team about the bombs without knowing how they’ll turn out. The team thinks we’re waiting, per Guido’s request, for the weather to get colder. If it’s cold and we break up thousands of zombies at the base, then they might migrate here in search of food – what Guido wants.
Reece and I keep our looting discreet because we don’t want Guido to know, or we’d have to do his bidding. We pick up everything from ammunition, to clothing. We stock up on all kinds of chemicals for amateur explosives and search through several old bookstores, only finding a few reference books. Nothing coming close to what my dad had. I’ve gotten better with my guns and even have my own shoulder holster. I’m not a pro, but getting good. Reece says it has something to do with me shooting a crossbow. I doubt it, but I never argue.
While obtaining this cool belt I can stick just about anything in, mostly my magazines and some knives, I find a new pair of boots, so I break them in. They are soft, tan leather with a rounded toe, thick soles, and they go up mid-calf with soft scrunches. These boots are zombie-bashing, kick-ass, chic boots. Best part is they don’t feel like boots, being made for comfort.
Besides the boots, clothing is a priority, too. I’ve had the same stuff for over four years, so I’m loading up on jeans, t-shirts, and hoodies. Although I have been doing my laundry hand-wash style, it’s nice to have new things after such a long time.
Reece teaches me to ride a motorcycle just in case I ever need to drive one. He also talks me into a tattoo, saying he loves a virgin canvas. I choose an arrow with bird feather fletching on my hipbone.
Mac’s been getting suspicious of me being gone for hours at a time, so here I am, telling him what we’re up to. I’m surprised he took this long to figure it out. He keeps secrets, too. I’ve been too busy to contemplate it.
“What?” he asks in disbelief. It’s comical how dumbfounded he looks, his eyes all wide. “You can make bombs?”
I fidget under his appraisal. “No. I’m not an expert, and I’ve been relying mostly on faint memory. It’s the agreement Reece and I made.”
“So, you’ve been out on the tow
n shopping for clothes and weird chemicals?” he asks, getting his facts straight.
“Pretty much, yeah. I needed clothes, and I didn’t want to buy any.”
“You have more than enough money to buy some. Why endanger yourself?”
“I need the money to stock up on moonshine and fresh food. Besides, I got you a few things.” I toss him some fresh white t-shirts, they’re his forte, and he makes them look good. I don’t tell him about the famished we run into on our trips.
He grins and comes to delve through my stash. “I was wondering where you got the boots.”
I laugh. “You know they’re sexy.”
He peers sideways at me. “You have no idea.” Picking up a white bandana, he arches a brow at me.
I clear my throat and try not to jerk it out of his hand. “It’s for Rudy. I figure he might want a new one.” He gives me a strange look, and when I catch his eye, he looks everywhere but at me. “It’s not like that, you know? We’re good friends,” I assure him with a smile and a squeeze of his hand, glad I put the guitar picks in my pack.
He sighs, throwing the pack of white t-shirts on his bed, he says, “If you’re friends, he won’t mind you staying in here.”
Mac isn’t in the loop of me sleeping in Rudy’s truck. No one is but me.
“He thinks I’m sleeping in here, Mac.”
In contemplation, he studies me. “Then where are you sleeping?”
“Sharing a room with Glinda.” The words rush out too quick to be true. If he knows I’m sleeping in the vault, outside the fence, in the cold, he’ll put up a fight.
Sitting on his bed, he smiles wide. “Rudy thinks you’re sleeping in here, huh?” I nod. “Why would he think that?” His face darkens. “Did he come on to you?”
“What? No. Rudy’s never touched me in an out-of-line way.” Only his gaze has ever gone astray. I glare at the way he looks relieved. “Besides, even if he did, it wouldn’t be your business.”
“What?” He gets defensive. “It should be my business.”
Crossing my arms and feeling smug I ask, “So, it should be my business about you. Right?”
Blue eyes glance around the room before he shrugs. “Yeah.”
“You wouldn’t have any problem admitting to sleeping with any of the ‘working girls’ here?”
His face screws up in disgust. “No. I can’t believe you think that!” A thought dawns across his face in some kind of understanding. “Oh, that’s why you’re being so stand-offish. Mighty presumptuous of you.”
“Maybe so, but you were, too.”
“Okay, that’s fair. Now we’re all cleared up....” He stands, looking down at me, although looking down is a stretch since I’m eye level with his mouth.
I laugh. “You’re short.”
Unfazed, a smile spreads across his face. “Doesn’t affect performance.”
“Hmmm... we’ll see about that.”
His smile grows wider, brightening his eyes, but he turns serious. “Next time, just ask. Anything. I’ll tell you, okay?”
Once I nod, he changes the subject. “We going to the tables?” he asks with a hopeful voice. He’s been playing poker with me. At first he thought it was a waste, my playing, until he found out about my poker face. Now he plays for fun. I’ve run off a couple of other regulars after winning their money.
“I’m not on the rounds for famished watch. I need some fun,” I reply, a little excited to put my mind off things.
Especially since tomorrow night, Guido’s throwing a Monster Bash. Mac told me they have one every so often. A couple of days ago a woman named Lucy was bitten by a chained famished. She got too close by accident. They asked her what she wanted to do, giving her a choice between becoming famished or not. She decided for it, so they locked her in a cage to complete her change. Now they’re throwing a Monster Bash in her honor. It’s atrocious. I tried to talk her out of it. She wanted to give back, she told me quite stubbornly. She’d make her debut as one of Guido’s arts, while everyone else gets smashed.
Usually, it takes little time to change and it depends on how a person is bitten. If a big chunk of the arm is eaten, then it would only take a few hours, sometimes minutes. A bite can take a few days. It also depends on the person. I’ve seen someone change within an hour, while sitting, stupidly, in the hospital with Malachi. It could explain why there are different kinds of zombies. Makes sense, but I need to know for sure.
Lucy’s the topic of talk, but I don’t want to talk about Lucy or go to the Monster Bash. It’s an excuse for everyone to party. It doesn’t matter they do it every night.
After the poker game, Reece tells me about his success with an explosive, practicing on famished miles away from the community. He motions for a drink at the bar and grins from ear to ear, wearing a black thermal shirt under his vest. Blue-gray eyes twinkling with mischief, he looks like a kid on Christmas morning. Sometimes he reminds me of myself. He thinks the same of me, telling me once he’s surprised we’re not related in some way.
“That’s awesome,” I say with actual envy. “I wish I was there to see it.”
“Me too!” Mac pipes in. Reece looks at me like he didn’t mean for him to overhear.
Giving Reece a knowing look, I say, “He knows. He was asking too many questions, and I didn’t want to lie.” He seems relieved he wasn’t the one who let it spill.
Reece continues in his excitement. “Yeah, you both should’ve seen it. It was like Disneyland fireworks!”
I laugh. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t blow yourself –”
“Suga’!” Glinda interrupts, rushing over. “You got to let me help you dress up tomorrow!” She has hopeful eyes, but I shake my head. She holds my arm with both hands, wearing her blond hair straight tonight. Without the curls, it’s long and shiny resting on her breasts, which are covered up for a change. Her red, glossy lips bring out the blue in her eyes.
“No way, I’m not even going. It’s stupid Lucy wants to be that way.”
“Oh! You know that ain’t ‘bout her.” She waves my comment away. I peek at Mac and he takes a sip of moonshine, but not before I see his delight at this turn in conversation. I shrug at Glinda, and she squeals like a pig. “I’ll see you tomorrow, suga’. We got lots of work to do.” She struts off.
I glance at Reece and Mac. “I’ll take her parting comment as a compliment. It will be lots of work to make me look like a hooker.” They both laugh in agreement. I’m going to regret it, a lot. Mac still tries to cover the gleam in his eyes.
Using the side door outside the fence, I have to shoot a few famished. The community treats them like pesky flies. It still amazes me how nonchalant they are about them. Zombies are dangerous. All it would take is a large enough number on the right day. Bam! Community gone. I head into the working girls building where Rudy still stays. He had a fight last night, so he is laying low. I’m on a mission to get him because Reece wants to meet with everyone for last minute announcements to leave for the base in a few days.
I knock before walking into the room where he lounges on the bed in sweatpants, a white long-sleeved t-shirt, and his boots. I thought he’d be playing his guitar, but he’s reading my notebook. His hair hangs loose around his face.
“Why do you read that stupid thing?” I ask, curious.
“I like how you think.” His black eye has yellowed, but has since got a bruise on the left side of his face from being whacked in the same spot. “You can have it back to write more in it.” The corner of his lips tugs into a small smile.
“I brought you something.” I give the bandana to him.
He runs it through his hands, smiling wider, the smile reaching his eyes. “This won’t stay white, you know?”
“Well, I’ll know you use it when it gets dirty.”
He thinks about it, then narrows his eyes. “What have you and Reece been up to?”
There isn’t any reason to keep it from him since I was sent here to retrieve him for a meeting. “We’ve been looti
ng. I’ve been helping him make bathtub explosives. It was our agreement.”
He stares at me with a blank face. “That doesn’t surprise me. You have lots of things up your sleeve.”
“Not really.” I look around. “Do you need anything? I have painkillers. Reece and I hit a big department store with a pharmacy. Everything’s gone except the bones of a body on the floor behind the glass. I happened to see a bottle of pills underneath it. Guess whoever it was didn’t want to get eaten alive and swallowed most of them. You can have them.”
“Huh. Trying to give me pills that have been under a rotting corpse for years?” He folds the bandana in half, tying it around his head.
My mouth drops. “They were in the bottle. They’ll still work!” I think.
“Nah, I’m not in any pain. Keep them. You might need them someday.”
“We better get going. We’re having a meeting at the marketplace. I want to get it over with. I’m tired. I also think Glinda wants to dress me up like a prostitute tomorrow.”
His eyebrows rise as the corner of his mouth twitches. I roll my eyes. “Let’s go then,” he says, not bothering to hide his amusement.
Still laughing at me, I have to grab his arm to pull him off the bed. “Oh, I almost forgot.” I pull the little plastic box from my pocket and hand the guitar picks to him.
He tries to smile at me, but looks a little sad. “Thank you.”
“No problem. You’re always looking for one. Now you have a whole box.”
Nighttime means the marketplace is empty, except for our twenty people. Our voices seem small as they resonate through the warehouse. The chatting ceases as Reece pulls a blanket from the mound on his booth. The blanket hid a huge stack of homemade bombs in plastic pipes with fuses. Gasps and exclamations erupt as everyone figures out what’s going on.
“This is how we’ll enter the zombie base,” Reece states, waving his arms in a dramatic fashion. I bite my lips to keep from laughing at his enthusiasm.