“If you do too much too soon on that ankle it could worsen and never heal right,” Rich continued. He gestured out the window. “This is not a situation where a man wants a permanently weak ankle or a limp, you know?”
“Okay,” Peter said. He knew Rich was right. “I’m sorry I’m stuck here. I know you don’t have supplies to spare.”
“We can always get more,” Rich said. He blinked a few times. “What we can’t get is another Natalie. I’ll go for that water.”
He clapped Peter’s shoulder and went humming out the door. It sounded like Beethoven’s 7th.
***
The next day was hot, which only intensified the heat in his ankle. Natalie walked out of her room and perched on the end of the couch. Her eyes were puffy, and she looked exhausted despite having slept through from yesterday evening.
“I know I said thank you,” she said. “But thank you again, for saving me…” She looked down at her lap. “Sorry I screwed up your plans to leave. My dad would ground me, except I’m already stuck here.”
She gave him a sheepish look from under her hair, and Peter laughed. “I’m glad I was there. That’s how fast it happens. That’s why your dad has that first rule, you know.”
Nat sighed. “I know.”
“Anyway, we’re even. You saved me and I saved you back. All right?”
“I didn’t think of that,” Nat said with a grin. “But, I’m still your servant until you leave. Dad’s orders. Can I get you anything?”
Peter didn’t want to make a sixteen year-old girl help him to the bathroom. It would be embarrassing for both of them. “I just need to do morning stuff, you know. Brush my teeth…”
She moved to one of the side tables and came back with a stick that spread into a V at the top. “Cane for you. Dad said he was making one.”
“Thanks.”
Peter hobbled to the toilet. It stood alone in a tiny room the size of a closet. It didn’t smell; supposedly everything went into a tank outside somewhere and became compost. They’d had a flush toilet at Cassie’s, but he’d bet flush toilets were going to be a distant memory soon.
He dug around in his daypack. There was a toothbrush and toothpaste in a plastic bag at the bottom. He was pretty sure Cassie was responsible for that, considering that there was floss, too. Their daypacks held essential items, in case you had to leave your big pack behind. He had a couple of MREs, a flashlight, an emergency blanket and poncho, water, ammo, an extra knife and shirt, and some medical supplies. Only Cassie would think a toothbrush met the same qualifications as those things. He loaded up the toothbrush. By the time he spit and rinsed he felt cleaner all over. It was an illusion, of course, but maybe she was onto something.
His ankle was on fire, so he made his way to the couch and sat with his foot outstretched on the coffee table. He wasn’t used to sitting, especially now. There was always something to do.
Chuck came in with a plate and steaming mug. “Coffee and peanut butter crackers. Odd mix, I know, but we use things as they expire.”
“Thanks.” He sipped the coffee. It was black, which was fine, and the crackers were pretty good.
Chuck sat on the couch. “Did you see Natalie?”
“Yeah. Was she under orders to apologize? If so, she did.” Peter finished chewing and swallowed the crackers with a swig of coffee. “Don’t go too hard on her.”
“She didn’t listen,” Chuck said, his face hard. “I almost lost her.”
“I think she learned her lesson. Has she ever had close contact with Lexers?”
“That’s a funny name for them. Lexers?”
“That’s what the Army was calling them. For the LX in Bornavirus LX.”
“I guess we just call them zombies,” Chuck said. “That’s what they are. I don’t see the sense in another name.”
“Maybe it’s kind of like calling lollipops something different, like suckers.”
“Change it up a little?” Chuck asked with a smile. “So you don’t get bored?”
Peter laughed. “Exactly.”
“No, she never did. She’s shot at them from a distance, when all this started, but not since then. Maybe she should have, but I don’t think it’s worth the risk. She knows how to use a gun, has since she was little. I’ll make sure she has one at all times from here on out.”
Peter finished the crackers and coffee. That was breakfast, and once Chuck left to do his work, Peter was going to be bored. “Is there anything you need done that I can do from here?”
Chuck thought a moment and said he’d be back. Rich came in with the dog, who looked a bit like John’s dog, Laddie. Suddenly, those crackers weren’t sitting so well. It was Peter’s fault Laddie had been killed; he still felt horrible about that. No one held it against him anymore, but he’d never totally forgive himself.
The dog rushed over, tail wagging like crazy. The second Peter made eye contact, it jumped on the couch and set its head in his lap. “Go ‘head and make yourself comfortable, Jack,” Rich said to the dog. “You want me to get him off?”
Peter gave Jack a good scratch behind the ear. He’d never had a dog, but he’d always wanted one. “That’s okay, I like him.”
“All right. I want to take a look at your ankle.”
Rich took Peter’s foot in his lap and unwrapped the bandage while Nat hovered over him. When the bandage was off, she scrunched up her nose. “It looks like a zombie foot!”
It did. It was swollen and purple-gray, just like a Lexer. “Looking better than it did, in terms of swelling,” Rich said. “That’s good. Keep it up. Nat will get you anything you need.”
“I already told him I’m his indentured servant,” she said, and turned to Peter. “How about a board game?”
“I think your dad’s getting me something to work on.”
Natalie bowed. “Yes, master.”
Rich looked up from his bandaging. “I can’t believe your daddy never spanked you. Maybe I should.” He swatted a hand and she ran away laughing. It looked like it was an old joke from the way they both smiled.
“All right,” Rich said. “I’ll be outside. Make sure to take some more ibuprofen.”
After two more days, Peter was sure he’d sharpened every knife within a fifteen-mile radius. His ankle was a little better, in that he could stand for longer periods of time, but he still couldn’t walk at anything resembling a normal pace. Rich told him to be patient, but it was impossible. Everyone was waiting for him at Kingdom Come, except they didn’t know they were waiting; they were likely mourning.
Chuck had given him some other odd jobs, but there was only so much he could do from the couch—the same one he’d had Natalie help move under the windows. They’d moved the chairs too, so at night everyone could sit and talk or play a game.
Natalie had just won Monopoly for the third night in a row when Chuck said, “Rich and I are thinking of going out tomorrow. We’d be gone for a night. Going for food. And I’m going to check on those potatoes, like you said, Peter.”
“Will you get paint, Daddy?” Nat asked. “I’ll start on painting. And get some fabric for curtains and furniture paint, too. Like white or something. Oh, and a sewing machine.”
She gave Peter a thumbs up; the last two days had been full of decorating discussions. She might have been his servant, but he was her captive audience, and he had a feeling she was quite happy with the arrangement.
“I’ll see what we can do. You sure you’re okay here, Nat?”
“Of course. Peter’ll keep me company.”
Chuck shot Peter an amused look that might have been tinged with sympathy. “All right. Let’s get to bed, it’s late.”
Peter brushed his teeth and lay on the couch wearing a pair of Chuck’s pajama pants. When Natalie’s door closed, Chuck sat on the edge of the coffee table with his hands clasped. “Listen, Pete, I have a favor to ask.” He waited for Peter’s nod and continued. “If we don’t come back, would you take Nat with you when you leave?”
&nbs
p; “You’ll come back, Chuck.”
“You never know. Just in case. I want to know she’ll have someone looking out for her. I trust you would.”
“Of course I would,” Peter said. He felt a rush of warmth that this man trusted him with his daughter. No one had ever even asked him to housesit. Of course, his wealthy friends would never have needed him to, but still. “You have my word.”
Chuck nodded once. “All right, then. Thank you.” He walked into the bedroom he shared with Rich and closed the door softly.
***
The next day it was just Nat, Peter and Jack. By noon they’d already gone swimming with a bar of soap, as Nat called it. The cold water felt great on his ankle, and the soap was great everywhere else. Natalie wrapped his foot up the way Rich had taught her, and they sat in the living room reading. Nat had a million books in her room, but Peter was reading one of the guys’ mysteries.
Natalie held a dog-eared copy of Twilight and read it as if it were the first time, although she’d told him she almost knew them by heart.
“So, what’s the big deal with those Twilight books?”
Natalie lowered it and sighed. “It’s all just so romantic. And who wouldn’t want to live forever and be as super strong as a vampire?”
“Well, it’d be better than being a zombie.”
“It’s the closest I’m getting to romance anyway,” Nat said. She flopped back in her chair. “I’d even take a normal guy at this point.”
“Wow, a normal guy? That’s really desperate.”
“Shut up!” Nat giggled. Then she leaned forward. “So, you were with some girls when I saw you. That one, the one next to you who held your hand, is that your girlfriend?”
“That’s my ex-girlfriend, Cassie,” Peter said.
“Why’d you break up? Details!”
There was no way she was getting details. “It just didn’t work out.”
Natalie blew her hair off her forehead and rolled her eyes. “Thanks, that was such a great story. Well, how about the other girls?”
Peter raised an eyebrow. “I’m not discussing this with you. You do know you’re sixteen and I’m thirty, right?”
“Please,” Nat begged. “No TV, no movies, I need some entertainment in my life.”
Peter shook his head. She slumped in her chair but perked back up a moment later. “Okay, then, I’ll guess. That one with the short hair—what’s her name?”
“Ana,” Peter answered because he couldn’t think of a good reason not to. Ana had frozen in shock when she’d realized that they were leaving him behind. He’d opened his mouth to tell her that it would be all right—he’d be all right, as long as she and the others were safe—but there hadn’t been time.
Natalie watched him for a moment before a grin spread across her face. “You like Ana—I can tell!”
Peter shrugged noncommittally, but she clapped her hands and screeched. “So, what’d Cassie think of that?”
Peter decided to answer; he had a feeling she’d be hounding him all night if he didn’t. “She thought it was a good idea.”
“What?” Nat screamed in disbelief. “Really?”
Peter couldn’t help it; he laughed until tears rolled. Natalie grinned and jumped up to sit next to him. “So everyone was friends?”
“Yeah, everyone was friends,” Peter said. “Cassie’s probably my best friend.” Cassie knew more about him than anyone else in the world, even Ana.
“Were you guys in love, ever?”
“I was in love with her,” Peter said, and he felt a twinge of that old hurt, “but she wasn’t in love with me.”
“Just like Jacob,” Nat said sadly.
“Like who?”
“Twilight. The werewolf. Does Cassie love someone else, like how Bella loves Edward? That’s the vampire.”
“Yeah, she does,” Peter said. The mood was growing somber, and he didn’t want it to. He was fine. It had all worked out the way it was supposed to. “But he’s not a vampire. I hear he’s pretty nice.”
“So do you still love her?”
“I do, but in a different way. I want her to be happy. It’s complicated.”
Natalie’s eyes brimmed with tears. Peter patted her shoulder. “Listen, goofball, it’s not sad. When I make it there, you know who I want to be with?” Natalie shook her head. “Ana.”
“But do you love her?”
“I think so.” He studied the wall and wished Rich and Chuck were around to put an end to this conversation.
“But do you still love Cassie, too?”
Peter sighed. She wouldn’t stop harping on this, and he didn’t know how to explain it to this girl who thought everything was a love triangle in a young adult novel. He didn’t expect or even want to be with Cassie, but he still loved her in that way that love can turn into deep affection. “Yeah. Sort of.”
Nat bounced on the couch cushions, eyes suddenly dry. “Bella loves Jacob, too, but it’s different. Maybe like how you mean. You really need to read Twilight.”
Peter couldn’t think of any situation where Twilight would be required reading. “I think I’m doing all right without Bella’s help. But thanks.”
He picked up his book to signal that the conversation about his love life was over. Natalie ripped the mystery out of his hands and tossed it across the room. Then she put Twilight on his lap and moved his cane out of reach. “Please? Just read the first few chapters and I promise I’ll give you your other book back if you want. I have no one to talk to about this stuff! Please, please read it!”
“You are a pain in the butt,” Peter said. It was supposed to be a stern voice, but it was obvious from her wide smile that she wasn’t buying it. He would read the damn book, if only because that hopeful face she made reminded him of Bits. “Fine, I’ll read it.”
She squealed and did a victory dance. He was being played like a violin.
CHAPTER 4
Chuck and Rich still weren’t back by the time he was almost through with New Moon and the sun was going down on day two. Natalie stood by the window, her hand resting on Jack’s head.
“I’m sure they’re okay,” Peter said, although he wasn’t. “They know I’m here and you’re safe. So they might have stayed an extra night if they needed to.”
Nat nodded and continued her vigil. When the sun had left the sky, she said she was going to bed. Peter read a chapter of Eclipse, then blew out the lamp and sat in the dark, listening for the sound of oars in the water that never came.
Natalie woke him the next morning with coffee. “I think you’re right. I gave them a whole list of stuff to get, so they’re probably doing that.” Her mouth was tight, though, and the coffee mug shook.
“Hey, don’t cry, sweetie.” Peter sat up and patted the couch beside him. “I have a feeling they’re fine. I really do.”
She dropped beside him and folded under his arm like a baby bird. She may have been sarcastic, sixteen and yearning for paranormal romance, but right now, sobbing into his shoulder, she was a scared little girl. Bits had lots of people to protect her, and he was glad he was there to give Chuck the same peace of mind. They sat like that until Peter’s coffee was cold and Nat had cried herself out.
When he finally rose, his ankle felt a bit better than the day before. He couldn’t run, or even walk fast, but it was healing. Another week or two and he’d be on his way. Maybe with Natalie in tow, but he hoped not. She needed her dad.
Afternoon brought a rainstorm, one that the men would probably wait out instead of rowing across the lake in. Peter and Nat were deep into a game of Scrabble when footsteps sounded on the deck and Chuck came in dripping.
“Daddy!” Nat yelled and threw herself into her father’s arms. As he imagined Bits doing the same, Peter bit his cheek.
“Sorry about that,” Chuck said to Peter. “God, I wish we could’ve called. We got stuck in a store, had to wait them out. But everything’s fine.” He took Nat’s face in his hands and looked down at her, eyes shining. “Every
thing’s fine. Okay?”
Her head moved up and down, and when he asked for help moving the stuff to the cabin, she threw on a coat and ran down to the water.
“Be careful out there,” Chuck said before he followed. “We were surrounded by hundreds of ‘em. We’ll make a couple more trips while you’re here, if that’s all right, and then we’re sticking close until the winter. Maybe they’ll freeze.”
“I hope so. Do what you have to do. I’m not going anywhere yet.” And Peter certainly wasn’t leaving Nat alone until he knew they were there to stay.
***
Peter sat in a chair and rolled the paint roller across the wall. He had the bottom half, Natalie the top. The cabin was much brighter now. Rich had chosen a premixed light blue, and it was turning out to be the perfect shade. He’d also gotten some white curtains and curtain rods, which he’d hung up. Once Peter finished the second coat on his half of the walls, he moved his chair to the sewing machine they’d set up on the table.
“So, how does that work with no electricity?” Natalie asked.
“You know my long leather gloves?” She nodded. “Well, Cassie made those for everyone using a sewing machine. You just turn the knob on the side and it sews for you. That’s all the electricity does.”
“Cool.”
Peter picked up the blue and brown modern floral fabric Rich had picked out. It looked like something from a magazine and matched the paint and the couch and chairs suspiciously well. “So, tell me about your uncle. He hardly ever speaks, dresses like a redneck, but he listens to classical music and managed to pick out the perfect fabric.”
He wasn’t worried that Rich would hear, since they’d left this morning on another run. Tomorrow would be Peter’s sixteenth day there, and he was babying his ankle so he would be able to leave sooner rather than later. Rich said he was probably looking at another week there, as long as he didn’t overtax it.
“Uncle Rich was always like that. My grandma listened to classical music and was always redecorating. I guess he ended up liking it. My mom probably would’ve liked it if my dad was a little more like him.”
So Long, Lollipops (An Until the End of the World Novella) Page 4