by C. M. Wright
I see the body of a man slamming to the floor at the beginning of the hallway. A gun leaves his hand when he hits and scatters noiselessly across the dull and filthy floor.
I stare at the dead man and the gun for what seems like an eternity, trying to figure out what was happening.
Why did he have a gun? Why is he dead?
Then I turn and see my brother, so close, yet so far away, and my mind clears. I remember everything.
My brother.
Ryder!
I scramble to his side, not caring what I was crawling through on the nasty floor. Not caring that something ripped through my hand, leaving a deep bleeding cut. Not caring about infection or the bloody handprints I'm leaving behind me.
I don't feel the pain of my kneecaps as they slam into the hard wood of the floor and all the objects I ram into with them.
All I care about is that boy. Never a man! Never. Not to me. That is my baby, my baby brother, who I would die for. Kill for.
I reach him and frantically search for a pulse, a movement of his chest, anything!
There.
I've found a pulse. It's weak, but there nonetheless. That's all we need.
I scream for help, not realizing people are already there, already helping him. I don't even realize that Will is behind me, attempting to pull me away so that the others can help him, until I'm wrapped in his strong arms and held tightly against a chest that is so familiar to me.
Home.
My husband is my home, my life, my everything.
Will turns me so that I'm sitting sideways to him and presses my face into his chest, hiding me from the horror of seeing my brother clinging to life. He whispers words of love and reassurance. His kisses on my head and face comfort me, make me feel safe and loved.
I hear a moan filled with pain behind me and I jerk my head away from Will, but the sudden movement sends pain crashing through my skull. A kaleidoscope of colors, all much too bright, make it difficult for me to see, but I manage to turn my head and focus just enough to see that my brother's eyes are open and he's talking to the people working on him. My head suddenly feels so heavy and my body begins to shake. The shock and adrenaline is wearing off and my body and mind are begging to shut down.
When David looks up at me and sends me a wink and a grin, I know my brother is going to be okay. He's not going to die, not today. I turn back to Will and bury my face in his chest and cry so hard that my entire body jerks from the sobs. I feel his hand as he rubs my back in an attempt to soothe me and offers comfort I need so badly right now. His warm hand moves slowly up my spine to cradle the back of my head, but then he suddenly jerks his hand away. His body tightens and he begins panting for air so hard and fast that I worry he's going to hyperventilate.
A breathy and panicked “Oh, my God!” escapes from his lips and he screams for David. I hear a scramble of activity from behind me, but I'm just too tired to attempt to lift my head, which is beginning to feel too heavy, too big, not to mention the incredibly sharp and intense pain that feels as though my head will soon burst into a thousand tiny pieces. The pain is even making it feel as though my eyes are about to blow right out of the sockets.
Even though I desperately want to keep an eye on my brother and find out what has Will so upset, I just can't keep my eyes open a second longer.
Maybe if I just rest them for a minute...
And with that thought, I feel myself falling into a very deep, dark hole.
Chapter Thirteen
Will
It's been a little over four months since the night we killed the Krew members and rescued the captives. Most of the men, women and kids have joined us at Rose's Refuge. The only exception being Heather and her brother, Cade, who was one of the men we had safely tucked in Sandro's apartment that night.
Those two wanted to see if their family were still alive. They had been captured by the Krew when they had left their family behind to scavenge for food and supplies.
I hope they found their family and I hope and pray that they are all right.
Ryder and Sandro both lived and are doing very well. Ryder had been shot, but the wound wasn't life-threatening. Sandro has taken a bit longer to heal and still has some small issues, but is definitely past the threat of death.
My wife–
My wife had been shot by that son-of-a-bitch that I had killed coming out of the hallway in that last apartment.
All that blood–
Her head–
I wish I could go back and torture that fucker before I killed him.
I wish–
Sorry, but I need a moment.
Chapter Fourteen
Will's Second Attempt
I'm sorry for that. This is just too hard, but I know you need to know what happened. I know you deserve it, and that Canada would want me to tell you.
She's–
Chapter Fifteen
Will's Third Attempt
Forgive me for leaving you like that. I thought I was ready, but clearly, I wasn't.
My wife is not dead; and no, she's not a zombie either.
She's still, and has been since that night, in a coma.
Dustin told us that because of all the trauma she had suffered to her head previously, and the bullet slicing across her head this time, that it was just too much for any one person to handle and it's finally taken it's toll.
He isn't sure why she's been in the coma this long, unless the trauma of everything that has happened is too much for her to handle right now and her mind is refusing to allow her to wake. Other than that, she's fine. The wound wasn't enough to kill her.
Thank God!
The baby is growing and expanding my wife's belly it seems like every day, and is constantly being monitored as well. Dustin has basically stopped seeing other patients and has handed that part of his job to a few people who are trained almost as well as he is. He spends all of his waking hours caring for my wife and our baby, and I can never repay him for this.
Yes, I said our baby.
Dustin finally got that sonogram machine he has been drooling for and was able to determine that Canada was pregnant for at least a month before Jake had kidnapped her. So if she was telling me the truth, that she and Jake had done nothing that would have gotten her pregnant before that, and I believe her, then that baby is unquestionably mine.
I'm so freaking excited, and I'll admit, I'm scared too.
Christ!
I mean, I thought I was too old to be a dad, to have to go through all the things a new child brings with them. Midnight feedings, diaper changes, teaching and caring for. Having someone completely dependent on you is a big deal. A huge deal.
And what if Canada never wakes up? What if I have to raise this little babe on my own?
Okay, yeah. So I have a whole community here at Rose's Refuge who will step up and step in whenever I need them to, and most likely some who will try to take over the entire care of the baby; but I won't let that happen. This little boy or girl is mine and Canada's, and I'm going to treasure every damn second of my life with them.
I've also still got my boys, who are turning into young men right before my eyes. They are doing their best dealing with their mom being in a coma, but they miss the hell out of her. They are also very excited about the baby and I have had to break up too many arguments over who is going to do what for the baby when he or she comes.
So I know the help will be here when I need it, but no one else will really be able to do what Canada, the boys and I could do together as a complete family.
As for Canada, she has so many people rooting for her. Candles are lit and left on the concrete slab outside the medical building, kids have made homemade get-well cards which makes her room look as if it's been wallpapered in them, and so many handpicked flower bouquets have been brought, that we've had to spread them throughout the building.
If it weren't for Canada's own personal guard, John The Zombie Zapper, she would probably have many more visitors tha
n she's had; but getting through him has become such a nuisance that not very many people will attempt to do it again after the first time.
His protectiveness doesn't exclude her own family, not even me or our boys! I've had to complain to Dustin more times than I can count at having to give up my weapons, submit to a search, and answer John's insane questions. Questions like my relationship to the patient, how long I've known the patient, what my intentions are to the patient, and on and on.
Dustin tried to get John to back off, albeit only halfheartedly. That is, until John included Dustin in his guardian routine and Dustin would have to spend many wasted minutes stuck outside the hall from his most important patient. It only took one time of that before Dustin sent John on his way. He left for a total of a half hour before he was back in his chair right outside Canada's door.
John had promised to ease up a bit, however, so he was allowed to stay. Even though he irritated the hell out of us, his protectiveness probably did save Canada's life on at least one occasion.
I was adamantly against allowing new people to move into the refuge while Canada was so vulnerable. You never know what kind of devious plans others are up to, such as in the case of the Krew, but too many others disagreed with me. Their bleeding hearts almost got us all killed.
They had allowed a group of about twenty to move in, their story one we've heard over and over. Fighting for their lives, desperate, hungry and tired. They were never questioned, never quarantined, never examined. They just moved on in and everything was supposed to be all sunshine and roses.
Then one of them died of natural causes, alone, outside their home.
We lost several kids, a few adults, and a couple buildings we had worked so hard on was destroyed. I dread the moment I will have to tell Canada that Vicki was one of the victims of this slaughter. We had newly turned zombies who had free reign inside our refuge, and one had gotten inside the medical building. A patient, a little girl who was finally beginning to come out of her shell, was bitten. Then the two of them made their way down the hall to where John The Zombie Zapper stood outside Canada's door. He heard the screams and shouts outside. The guns as they went off told him exactly what was going on, but he never left his self-appointed post. When the moans of the two dead and the shuffle of their feet on the floor began to move closer to his position, John stood weaponless, but waiting and ready to die for his idol lying helpless on the other side of the door.
He didn't have to wait long.
The two undead stumbled into the light and John did what he could to take them out by hand. His anger and devotion made the man capable of tearing the middle-aged zombie's head right off its shoulders before stomping it into a bloody pulp. Though messy, it did the job. The young girl was harder for John to kill as he'd gotten to know her quite well, but nothing and no one comes before Canada in his mind. So when he picked up his chair and busted it into a jumbled mess of wood over the girl's body, then proceeded to pick up a piece of wood to jam in her head, he did it proudly.
I came on the scene about the time he had finished her off, and when I realized how close they had come to my wife and baby, I almost kissed the crazy man.
Canada and our baby was safe that night, all thanks to the Zombie Zapper. The others finally understood why I was against allowing anyone new inside, and are now helping the ones who do come find somewhere else to stay until we have a better system in place. The mourning of the parents who lost children, and the pain of the others who lost someone dear to them, won't soon be forgotten here at Rose's Refuge.
A hard lesson learned, but one that was needed.
I can't lead right now, and I apologize for that, but my only concern is my wife and our kids. Someday, she will wake up.
Canada, please wake up. Please come back to us.
Chapter Sixteen
Wipe your tears, my pretties!
I'm back and just as feisty and bitchy as ever. I was finally able to open my eyes the night my baby decided to come join the rest of the family here at the refuge.
Dustin had planned to take the baby by cesarean on Friday, a full week before all the tests and his own skilled knowledge expected the arrival.
But this is my child after all, and she's just like her mama!
Yep, a girl. I finally have a little girl, and she's got two very protective older brothers. Poor darling won't ever date or have a life of her own.
She has both of her brothers and her daddy wrapped around her little finger; but not Mama. Oh, no. Her and I are about to have a little chat.
I look down at the bundle of pink skin wrapped in an even pinker blanket, her dark eyes looking right back at me. Dustin say's she can't focus on anything yet, but I think he needs to toss those old textbooks out, because this little girl can see just fine. At least, that's what I believe.
“Hey, sweet cheeks. We need to talk,” I softly tell her and smile when she releases a deep sigh that almost seems to say she'll tolerate me for a few minutes. “Let's get a few things straight. Number one, your daddy is a pushover, but only I'm allowed to take advantage of that. You will have to use your brothers to get what you want. As for your brothers, good luck! You're going to need it.”
I grin even bigger when she coos back at me, as if she's trying to participate in this conversation. And she just might be, but I'm positive that if she is, it's to tell me how wrong I am and how she will do just as she pleases.
We have given our daughter the name Alyssa Marie Violet. Marie after myself and my mom, Violet after my husband's mom, and Alyssa came from a suggestion by a new friend of ours here at the refuge, Rebecca, who was one of the women freed from the Krew the last night I remember before becoming Sleeping Beauty.
Or maybe Sleeping Mess. Whatever.
A knock sounds on the door and I mentally groan when I figure it's probably my brave protector, The Zombie Zapper...again!
Will and Dustin both told me what he did, how he saved me and my unborn Alyssa that night; and I am grateful. Honestly! But after the tenth time of checking on us in less than a half hour, he can be a little much. Too much, at times.
I clench my jaw, then force myself to say, “Come in.”
Surprisingly, it isn't John but my husband and our boys, Bo and Ash.
“Morning, Mom!” Ash and Bo practically yell when they enter. The loudness of her brothers startle Alyssa and her little mouth forms a pout, her eyes filling with tears. I bring her up to my neck and hold her tighter, my voice attempting to soothe her as I shoot a glare at her brothers.
“Sorry,” they both apologize in a much quieter voice as they converge on each side of the bed. Their hands find Alyssa's tiny back and one rubs while the other pats her.
I look toward the end of the bed at Will and smile at him. His stern look at the boys for upsetting their sister is replaced by a soft smile in return.
“How you doing, baby?” he asks me.
“All right. Little sore, but I've had worse pain,” I stop and give a soft laugh. “You never would have heard that statement come from my mouth just after giving birth before this damn apocalypse happened.”
Will laughs, then comes around and kisses me on the lips and leaves Alyssa a soft kiss on the top of her silky dark hair. He cups the back of her head and I ask if he wants to hold her. He nods and I hand her to him, smiling as he settles into the rocking chair John had had someone make and bring to us. As he talks to his daughter, I pull both my boys into my arms, giving them a hug I desperately need from them.
They help me sit up a little more, then I pat each side of the bed so that they can sit and tell me what they've been up to.
Bo, who has recently turned sixteen, has a girlfriend and she seems to be all he's capable of talking about. Ash, now at thirteen, still claims girls are disgusting but doesn't sound nearly as convinced as he used to be. He tells me that Will has been training them both with guns, knives and swords, and Ash can't wait to show me what he's learned. I feel a sharp pain in my heart that they have to k
now all this, but it quickly goes away when Ash also tells me he knows how to drive a vehicle now.
The shock of that is enough to distract me from everything else. I congratulate him and ask how their schooling is going, but all I get from both of them is grumbling and whining. They insist they know what they need to know and that school is stupid.
Nothing's changed there.
“Mom, what was it like being in a coma?” Bo asks me and both boys look at me intensely.
“Well, I could hear people talking sometimes, I think. I guess I could have been dreaming, so I'm not real sure. I do know a few times I wanted so badly to open my eyes, but I just couldn't. Mostly when I would hear you two, your dad, and other family. I also remember a few times I wanted to wake up just so I could smack Dustin when he would forget to warm his hands up before examining me–”
“Maybe I did that intentionally, hoping your lazy ass would wake up already!” Dustin's voice breaks in and we all look up to find him smiling smugly at me, his arms crossed over his chest and leaning against the frame of the door.
“Well, my lazy ass is awake now. Bet you won't try it again if you value your man parts,” I jokingly threaten him.
“I see the coma didn't fix that attitude of yours, young lady. Still as much of a badass as ever.”
“You know it,” I tell him as I shift on the bed in an attempt to ease the pain of the pressure on my very sensitive woman parts.
Dustin slips on a pair of gloves and kicks my boys out so he can examine those particular parts. I give him a growl and relent with a disgusted sigh, as I went to all that trouble to find a position and now he's making me move again. The bitching I had planned to give him is quickly forgotten when the pressure and pain immediately stops once I'm flat on my back, and instead, I shoot him a look of relief. One in which he misses completely as he disappears under the blankets between my widely spread legs.