Will To Live

by C. M. Wright

  We give Kris a few moments, and Cindy rubs her back in a show of support and comfort. Feeling helpless, I move over to my bags and pull out a pair of sweats with a drawstring and a t-shirt. Bringing them over to Kris, I kneel down in front of her and place them at her feet.

  “Why don't we go into the next room and let you get cleaned up and in some real clothes. My clothes will be too big on you, but you can adjust the size of the sweats. When we get back to Rose's, there will be plenty of clothes for you, Cindy, and even your little guy.”

  “Logan. I named him Logan after his daddy.” Kris tells me softly.

  I smile. “Logan, then. He will be taken care of, and so will you. No more running. What do you say?”

  I wait for her answer, pretending patience when all I want to do is scream at her to hurry the hell up before things get even worse.

  We've really got to get our asses out of here...somehow.

  Finally, she nods and Cindy and I help her to her feet. The two women, and one infant who has no choice, follow me to my sons' room. Once there, I introduce the two women to my sisters-in-law and my boys, before ushering them into the bathroom. Cindy promises to hurry in a low voice just before shutting the door. I'm relieved that she finally understands the need for urgency in this situation.

  To be fair, I realize Kris has got to be a little messed up right now, what with just having a baby, major surgery, and losing her husband. Back in the normal world, she would have been given all the time she needed to recover from each trauma. But this isn't the normal world, and we don't have that kind of time.

  I quickly explain to my family everything that had happened, then ask them to take care of the women while I go back to see if an escape has been planned yet. My sisters and boys agree to take care of them, and I leave the room after I give my boys a hug and make sure they're doing good...or as good as can be expected, anyway.

  Back on the walkway, I move toward the opposite end where all the men are huddled together close to the floor. They turn to me as I approach and ask how the women are doing.

  “They're getting cleaned up. I think they'll be going back with us.”

  Then I quickly explain the things they had endured before being saved by us.

  When I'm done I ask, “So? What's the plan?”

  Will moves next to me and pulls me against his side. I snuggle against him, inhaling his scent while my stomach does cartwheels as I remember how close I came to losing him...again.

  “We're going to do what we originally planned to do and bomb them. We might not take them all out – actually, we probably won't – but at least we can thin them out some. We just need to be able to get to the trucks and get the hell out of here,” Gage explains.

  I nod and ask when they plan to do this. He tells me right now. I stall him long enough to go back to warn my family and women back in the room so that they aren't taken by surprise. I come back out and nod to the guys, letting them know to go-ahead.

  I look down at the crowd as the first small silver ball is thrown, and regret it soon after when I see the destruction that tiny ball makes. All the blood and guts I've seen so far should have numbed me long ago, but each time the horror is just as bad as the first time.

  I mean, think about it. Really think about it. These were once human beings. Still are? Are they? I can't tell you that. I guess it's a matter of perspective. A dog with rabies is still a dog, is it not? Then isn't a zombie still a human being? Maybe you think so, but the majority of people – both before and after the real zombie apocalypse – insist that one is not the other. Maybe it's just a way of dealing with the fact we have to kill or be killed by our fellow man...who just happens to be a flesh-hungry corpse...

  What the hell am I even talking about?

  Back to our regularly scheduled program...

  The bombs do a much better job than any of us expect, and the parking lot is left with only a handful of zombies. While the guys were blasting them apart, I had been busy pulling everyone's luggage out onto the walkway so that we can just grab and go when it's time.

  I run to the boys' room and wave them all outside. Right away, I notice that Kris looks much more comfortable, warmer, and healthier since being able to rest, dress, and clean up. Cindy too, for that matter. The baby is sleeping in his mother's arms, his belly finally full.

  I follow when the last of them leave the room. Out on the walkway, we all grab the first bags we come to, not caring who it belongs to. Will and Dad Rex had already taken some of the guns out of the weapons bags and hand them out as we file past. Kris understandably passes up the gun, her hands already full with a chubby Logan, but Cindy eagerly takes a handgun, checks that it's loaded, and gives the guys a smile and nod.

  Apparently, this nurse knows her way around a gun. Lucky for us!

  Single file we descend the stairs and shoot our way to the vehicles. The men stand guard as the women and kids safely get inside the trucks, then join us. Spinning rocks, dust, and probably zombie-parts – and that's something I don't want to think about too long – we leave the rest of the living dead behind.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Two days later, and we still haven't found Vicki or the others. Having to drive through every town within twenty miles of the interstate could have meant we missed them as they drove on by. That's what I try to make Nick believe, anyway. That poor kid is getting more and more despondent with every mile since we've turned back toward Rose's Refuge. But we have to get Kris and her baby back there so that Dustin can check them out, and so we can check in to see if Vicki hasn't shown up after all.

  When we reach Rose's, we find that no one has heard a thing from anyone, including Vicki. Will and I promise Nick that as soon as we get some food, a shower, and some rest, we will go back out again. He agrees to do the same, but not with any real patience on his part.

  Will, the boys, and I make our way to the cafeteria – picking up Angel, my hero and new dog, along the way – and get in line to wait for our turn at the buffet-style service. No one makes any fuss about the dog coming in, and from what Will tells me when I ask him about it, she's a permanent fixture wherever there are people. I look around the large room, smiling and waving at everyone I recognize or who waves at me first. I see that Ernie has gotten his wish and is now free of the hospital. He looks great, and so does Bernie, who's sitting close to his right.

  Most of my family is sitting at several tables pushed close together. I can't help but notice my sister, Rose, and sister-in-law, Coco, jumping up and down, making faces, and waving their arms to get my attention. I let loose a burst of laughter at how ridiculous they look.

  Turning back to the front, I catch sight of Dustin and Terry walking through the line with Kris, Cindy, and Logan. Kris has apparently gotten over her protectiveness of Logan – or she just trusts Dustin a hell of a lot more than she does anyone else – because the little boy is cradled in the doctor's arms.

  A little further up the line, I'm delighted to see Bianca – mine and Will's friend from Illinois – and Toby – one of the military men brought back from Nebraska – standing very close together.

  In fact...oh, yeah!

  They do have an arm wrapped around each others waists.

  Go, Bianca!

  I feel an intense happiness for our old friend. She deserves love, she deserves a hell of a lot of love.

  Just in front of them, I catch a glimpse of Helen, and wonder if her and Sam are still an item. As soon as I finish that thought, Bianca moves just enough apart from Toby that a shock of bright red hair is visible in front of them.

  Oh! There he is. Hasn't grown– I mean changed – a bit.

  Shit. Sorry. Forgot my promise.

  I jump when a small pair of arms wrap around my waist. Looking down, I gasp and lift Melody into my arms. I catch up with her for a few minutes, and finally meet her parents. The joy I feel inside brings tears to my eyes that this family survived against so many odds, and are together once again. Mel gives me a tight s
queeze around my neck, then a loud smack on my cheek with her lips, before I place her back down on her own feet. The family waves goodbye as they leave the cafeteria, and I pull my own family tightly to me, for a quick group hug.

  Soon after, we reach the table where stacks of school trays have been placed. We each take one and soon have them filled with chicken casserole and warm hot rolls. Slowly, I follow Will and my boys to the family table. My ankle is starting to throb with pain, and I remind myself to ask Dustin for some of the pain pills to take with me on this next trip that I had brought back for him. Like an idiot, I only kept a few for myself.

  When we finally make it to the table, I notice an empty chair between my mom and Ma and quickly forget about the aching ankle as I rush to claim it.

  Collapsing in the metal folding seat, I turn to embrace my mom, then my ma, who practically strangles me with her tight arms around my neck.

  “Ma! Ma, you're killing me,” I croak out and immediately feel her arms loosen.

  She grins up at me and I lean forward and give her a smack of a kiss on her cheek. She gives me the sweetest smile...just before she brings her hand up and gives me a smack right back!

  It wasn't hard, of course, because she would never hurt me...much. But the shock of it made me gasp and raise my hand to cover the barely-there sting.

  “What the hell!” I cry out.

  “Don't you ever be thinking bad things about your family again. Or, at least, not about me. You know I would never let anyone hurt you or lock you away. It was that damn Jake that made you forget that. I know it was. He made your head spin and you were dumb enough to let him. Don't you be that stupid over some strange man again, Canada Marie. If Will doesn't knock your head on straight, I will!”

  I stare in awed-shock at my sweet little grandmother, unable to believe the words I just heard came from the same mouth that belongs on her face. I then realize that the entire area had grown silent during her rant, but now I hear most of my family snickering, and a few outright laughing at my expense.

  Belatedly, I realize too that Ma is expecting a response from me, but I can't seem to do more than stutter in acknowledgment and agreement.

  And just that fast, she changes from psycho-grandma back to my sweet and loving Ma. It takes me a few moments to recover, but my loud and boisterous family soon has me back in the moment. My head spins with all the voices fighting each other to be heard. Unfortunately, most of those voices are being directed at me, with everyone wanting to catch me up on their lives while I'd been gone.

  All I'm capable of is smiling and nodding, eventually, even that proves to be much too exhausting. So I shrug, pick up my fork, and start eating. I can easily tell my Ma was in charge of this meal. I quickly recognize some of the little secret ingredients that she adds to most of her meals.

  Delicious!

  Once I finish and put my tray in the tub to be washed, I seek out John. Now this isn't the same John from the Nebraska military post that came with Toby and Helen, the one I'm looking for was a jailer that worked with my brother, Andy. He and his wife, Shelly, showed up at the refuge while I was being held captive by Jake.

  Finding the man Andy had pointed out to me earlier just about to leave the cafeteria, I pick up speed and go after him as fast as I can.

  “Canada!”

  I mentally groan as Dustin steps in my path.

  I already know what he wants, he told everyone in the damn refuge to give me the message.

  “Hey, Dustin. I'm kinda busy right now. I–”

  “Busy or not, you're avoiding me and we both know it. I need to check you out and make sure your ankle is okay, not to mention, I just found out you were shot about the same time Bert and Ernie were. I will meet you at the hospital in half an hour.”

  And before I can respond, he turns and storms away from me.

  Um, excuse me? Am I not an adult who can take care of herself, and is perfectly capable of making her own decisions?

  Okay, fine. You're right. I'll meet him in half an hour.

  Tearing my glaring eyes from Dustin's retreating back, I continue on my mission to find John. Leaving the cafeteria, I look first to my right, then my left, then in front of me. I get a glimpse of jeans and the splash of red color of a t-shirt, the same color and clothes John had been wearing the last time I clearly saw him, disappear inside the door to another new building. This one is nowhere near as large as the cafeteria, in fact, it's about as big as one of the singles' housing that have been built on the property.

  My attention locks on the building and I move toward it. Every new structure here, including the cafeteria, have two floors so that in the event of a zombie invasion, there's somewhere everyone can run to to find safety.

  My steps slow as I near the door, unsure if I really want to confront my own personal demon. And it's not John.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I twist the door handle and step inside.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  John sits up straight in his chair behind a huge wooden desk across the room from the door. He relaxes when he sees that it's only me, but then I see his face change to wariness at the realization of the reason I may be here. His smile of welcome quickly turns into a frown of concern. His cat, Pittith, if the huge jewel-adorned name tag on her pink royalty cat bed states, looks up lazily at my intrusion of her nap. Then she hisses at me. Apparently, she decides I'm not worth the trouble, because she lets out a great big yawn, then a 'go to hell look', before she lays her head back down to sleep on her crossed front legs.

  “Canada, I don't think you should be here,” John tells me.

  “You're probably right, but I need to talk to him anyway.”

  “No one is going to like this. I could get into a lot of trouble.”

  “Well, then, let's just keep this between the two of us, shall we?” I say to him with a grin of confidence I don't really feel.

  After a few moments spent contemplating the decision, John finally lets out a deep sigh, stands, and makes his way to the door behind him. He looks back at me before inserting the key, and raises his brow.

  “I know you'll get in one way or another, I've heard enough to know that about you...but are you sure about this?” he asks, giving me one last chance to walk away.

  I swallow hard, then nod. Steeling my back and mentally pushing away the fear of a victim, I step forward. John opens the door wide and I enter the back room. Rows of cells line the opposite wall, and only one is occupied. I urge my feet and legs to carry me toward it. When I stop in front of the cell, I turn my head back to John and give him a nod to let him know I want privacy. I glare at him when it seems like he's going to protest, but then he sighs again and leaves.

  Turning back to the cell, I take a good hard long look at the man who kidnapped me, raped me, beat me, and tried to kill me. The man whose child I may now be carrying.

  Dustin's determination with examining me will soon expose my secret. I need answers...fast. I can only pray this visit will give me those answers.

  He's sleeping on the cot, his light snores making anger rise inside me each time they occur. His face is still a beautiful sight, his muscled body still impressive. But I feel nothing but anger and hatred toward him.

  Unable to tolerate much longer with him, I call out in a loud and demanding voice, “Jake!”

  Jake jumps up and out of the bed, automatically positioning himself into a fighting stance. When his mind clears, and he sees it's only me, he relaxes and his oh-not-so-sexy-anymore grins breaks out on his face.

  “Well, well. If it's none other than my own Canada,” he practically sneers at me as he saunters over to the bars just in front of me. His cockiness increases the anger I already feel toward him. But instead of letting him see the anger, I give him a cocky grin of my own.

  “Well, well. If it isn't the dick who I wish were dead right now.”

  I feel a chill run through me. A good chill. A chill of satisfaction, when a look of pain crosses his face.

  “O
h, come on now. You know I didn't mean to do all that to you. You know I wasn't in my right mind. Canada, I would never hurt you on purpose. I really do love you.”

  His eyes plead with me to believe him.

  Fortunately, I'm past falling for all that shit, but I do need information, and I'm gonna get it. One way or another.

  “I know, Jake, and I'm sorry you're stuck in here. I'm doing everything I can to fix this, but it's just going to take some time.”

  Jake's body slumps in relief, and I'm almost certain it's fake.

  Can he really be that stupid?

  “I knew you would come through for me. I knew it.”

  Oh. Well...maybe he can be that stupid.

  “Greg came by to see me earlier,” he informs me.

  “Did he? How did that go?” I ask him, not really caring.

  “Not good. He just came by to inform me he knows the truth about why he had to keep taking the shots. He also told me he knows what I did to our parents. And that he no longer has a brother.”

  I'm shocked when Jake's eyes well up with tears. But when he lets out a loud strangled sob, and those tears fall freely down his face, I feel even more shock.

  He may have lied about everything else, but he really does loves his brother. That was never a lie.

  An unwanted pang of sympathy shoots through me, but with disgust, I push it aside.

  “I'm sorry, Jake. Give him some time too. I'm sure he won't always feel that way.”

  Jake pushes his hand through the bars, wanting comfort. I hesitate, but then force myself to raise my own hand and place inside his much bigger one. Millions of things go through my mind, which almost makes me scared enough to snatch my hand back, but I somehow find the strength to keep it there.

  His grip tightens and my body stiffens as I prepare for him to jerk me forward and hurt me once again. But he doesn't. Instead, he loosens his grip and I realize he only squeezed my hand like most people do when they are in pain.