Apocalypse Alone

by David Rogers

“I think it’s time for a new set.” Candice said and Jessica shrugged with a helpless smile while Austin shook his head.

  “Probably, but it’s his business Candy Bear.” Jessica said.

  “I just worry about him.”

  “We all do sweetie. But he’s a grownup. If this is how he wants to live, since he’s not hurting anyone …”

  Candice nodded with an uncomfortable expression as her mother shrugged. “I know. I just, he’s funny, but it’s still kinda of sad.”

  “Yeah, but mom’s right.” Austin said as he collapsed the ladder and slung it over his shoulder. The cans he left on the grass between their house and the next one over; ready for the next time target practice came up. “It’s his decision.”

  “Come on, it’s getting dark.” Jessica said, glancing west where the sun was sinking lower. “Back up in the house. Let’s have some dinner, and we can get in some games, and then it’ll about be time for bed.”

  Jessica watched as Candice put the reloaded magazine into her pistol, safed and reholstered it, and then climbed up the ladder stretching from the ground to their appropriated house’s front deck. She went up next, with Austin bringing up the rear carrying the folded platform ladder over his shoulder. As soon as Candice was back up in the house, Jessica began to relax. Even though she and Austin were there, the little peninsula really only had one direction zombies could show up from, and it had consistently been very quiet the whole time they’d been here; she was never comfortable with Candice being on the ground.

  While Austin set the ladder he’d carried up to one side in the living room and started winding the winch to haul up the house’s entry ladder, Jessica told Candice to go wash her hands, then went out to the back porch to check the fire. She added a few sticks and pieces of cut deadfall to the self-feeding mechanism Austin had rigged up — basically a little metal contraption of standard oven baking sheets he’d epoxied together to create a ramp that allowed wood stacked on it to slowly slide into the fire as the lower ones burned and collapsed — and lifted the lid on the eternal stew pot.

  Lunch had been a success, despite the seemingly odd combination of semi-sweet pickles on the side of tomato sauce and duck parmesan, but the rest of the fresh meat had gone into the pot. A can of peas and another of okra had joined the duck amid the remnants of the fish and green bean and corn stew already there, and been simmering away all afternoon. She teased out a piece of the finely chopped duck and tried it just to be sure, but it was cooked through and ready to eat.

  “I still say we can probably sneak a lot of that okra on the shelves into a swap with Byron’s crew if we sweeten the deal sufficiently.”

  “Okra’s good for you.” Jessica told Austin without turning from the stew pot.

  “Okra is nasty.”

  “Didn’t say it wasn’t.” she shrugged. “But food’s food.”

  “First okra, now zombies. Whole world’s gone to hell in a handbasket.”

  “At least we’ve got each other.”

  “Well, when you put it like that, maybe okra’s not so bad.”

  “Look, it’s in the stew or we have to eat it straight as a side dish with fish or something.” she said, giving the stew one final stir before straightening to grin at him.

  “Okra stew it is.” he said, smiling back.

  “I just swallow them whole. No chewing, just straight down.” Jessica admitted.

  “Good thing they’re as soft as snot after being stewed day and night.”

  “Fine, the next time we come across a raidable pantry that’s more than we can bring back, any okra in it has first-dibs for staying where we found it.”

  “Deal.” he said, shifting as if he were about to come closer to her.

  “Why did I wash my hands if you’re not?” Candice asked. Jessica’s long practiced reflexes — the desire of a parent to not get caught in a moment of adult affection by her children — took over and she turned to open the lidded storage tote where she kept the clean dishes. Austin, ever the best at reading her and taking hints, settled for one last smiling look before he moved around the fire to his chair.

  “Mine didn’t have gun on them.”

  “What about Austin’s?”

  “Good point.” he said, changing course and dipping his hands into the wash bucket. He turned as if he was about to start rubbing them together, but instead took a quick step around and reached for Candice. “Ahhh, wet!” he said, rubbing them across the sides of the girl’s face despite her attempt to duck away.

  “Eww!” Candice said through her giggling.

  “Oh no, now I’ve got to wash up too. There’s girlie-girl all over them.”

  “Children, behave.” Jessica said as she started ladling stew into a bowl.

  “Austin started it.” Candice protested, still giggling.

  “He’s as bad as you, that’s for sure. Big kid, wash your hands. Little kid, sit down and have some of this.”

  Candice took the bowl and spoon Jessica held out to her and sat down in her chair while Austin returned to the wash bucket and actually washed his hands this time.

  “So I’m getting pretty good at shooting, right Austin?” Candice asked once all three of them had their stew and drinks — Kool-Aid for Candice, and sweet tea for the adults — and were seated.

  “You’re getting up there I’d say.” Austin nodded. “You’ve been paying a lot of attention, and it shows.”

  “Can I come with you the next time you go hunting?” Candice asked.

  “What?” Jessica said, unable to keep the alarm from her voice as she looked up, startled.

  “Practice, practice, practice.” Candice said. “There’s more to learn than just aiming, right?”

  Austin very carefully refrained from comment, doing little more than catching Jessica’s eye neutrally as he covered by shoveling several spoonsful of stew up. Jessica hurriedly collected her thoughts and strove for a calmer tone as she answered.

  “Sweetie, one of the reasons we came down here was to be safe.”

  “We are safe here.”

  “And that’s why I want to stay. But anytime we leave, it’s dangerous. That’s why Austin volunteers to do most of the stuff away from the house, like looking for things and hunting.”

  “But you go with him sometimes.”

  “I do, and part of the reason I do is because even Austin needs some help, some extra eyes and backup, when he goes out.” Jessica allowed. “But it’s like a game.” she said, then winced. “No, it’s not a game. It’s real life, and dangerous.” she said, struggling to cover the innocent sounding word she’d let slip. “But like in a game, every move you make can have a lot of different outcomes. Some of them can be bad, even if they’re not very likely to happen.”

  “And it only takes one bad result for bad things to happen.” Austin said, finally speaking up.

  “But you’re tough, like mom.”

  “I am, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get in over my head, even if mom’s there to save me. Any time I go out, alone or with mom, that could be the time that something happens that I can’t handle.”

  “But I want to help.” Candice said after a moment, her face looking both disappointed and just the slightest bit stubborn.

  “You do help.” Jessica said. “You tend to the fire and keep our water supply topped off, you’re in charge of the pantry and the bathrooms. Plus all the other stuff you do here. You’re a big help honey.”

  “That’s all here.”

  “That’s where you can help the best.”

  “I just feel like I could help more if I could practice stuff other than staying here.”

  Jessica shook her head gently. “If you go out, with everything that’s going on, that’ll make me less safe Candy Bear. Because I’ll be worried so much, it’ll distract me. Even here, even with the stilts and the ladder and the bars on the doors and windows, even with Austin teaching you how to use the pistol just in case, that doesn’t mean we couldn’t be in trouble.”


  “A zombie horde could show up at any time.” Austin said. “Or worse.”

  “I just … I’m sorry.” Candice said, faltering before shrugging unhappily.

  “You help tons honey.” Jessica said firmly. “We’re safe and clean and cozy up here. Austin and I work hard to bring things in that help with that, but you do a lot here to keep it all that way for when he or I get back. You filled the bucket in the bathroom back up after you washed your hands, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “And this one here,” Jessica continued, pointing at the one Austin had just used, “it had water in it for Austin when he needed it. And the water we’re drinking now. And weren’t you reading up on seeds and gardens earlier, before Austin went downstairs with you for your lesson?”

  “Yes.” Candice said again, her voice still a little unhappy.

  “You help a lot. Everything you do, which is a lot, is something else me and Austin don’t have to. Just keep doing like you are, and we’ll go a day at a time, and stay safe.”

  “Until when?”

  “Until things get safer, a lot safer, than they have been.”

  “But we don’t know when that’ll be.”

  “Afraid not.” Austin said. “But, as usual, mom’s right. A day at a time. That’s all I do, that’s all she does, and it’s all you should do too. Take each day, and make the best decisions you can, as safe as you can.”

  “You guys are trying to make me feel better, aren’t you?”

  “It’s important.” Jessica said. “Part of a day at a time is making sure we’re all here for each other. So we stay focused and work on all the important things that get us to tomorrow. Look at Happy.”

  Austin almost laughed, almost, but he kept his composure intact as Jessica’s eyes flicked briefly to him.

  “Happy lost a lot, more than even we have, and he’s barely hanging on.” Jessica said, and she didn’t even have to be proud of herself for not having to work to keep her voice level as she said it. She still felt the loss of her other two children — Candice’s older brother and sister — and her own parents, but those horrific absences were packed away in her mental baggage now, so they didn’t show up all the time. Tucked away in a box she didn’t open. “In fact, Happy might be lucky we’re around to try and keep an eye on him.”

  “That’s a good point.” Candice said slowly. “Those zombies that showed up a few weeks ago, he just sat there yelling at them while they were trying to get up on his porch.”

  Jessica nodded. It hadn’t been many, hardly even enough to merit the appellation of ‘pack’, but it had been five or six. Even though Happy, drunk and apathetic as he was, was a holy terror if he decided to start fighting, it probably would’ve been too many for him to deal with alone. Fortunately, for him, his yelling had drawn Jessica’s attention, and she had shot the zombies from the porch before the situation had gotten out of hand.

  “Okay.” Candice said, her tone abruptly changing from reluctant unhappy confusion, slight though it had been, to something closer to her more normal cheerful demeanor. “I just thought it might be a good way to learn some more stuff.”

  “You’re learning a lot, and doing great.” Austin said. “Day at a time means we don’t rush anything, even the good stuff.”

  “What are we going to play after dinner?” Candice demanded, switching gears with the blithe speed only children could muster so effortlessly.

  “Scrabble.” Jessica said.

  “Oh come on.”

  “You don’t like Scrabble?” Jessica asked with a hidden smile. “It’s my turn to pick isn’t?”

  “You and Austin are better at that.”

  “Well, you could cheat and keep learning more words.” Jessica suggested innocently.

  “In fact, since mom and I are always so busy, you’d get ahead of us pretty quick if you did.” Austin pointed out in a voice of calculated sage certainty.

  “This is like school.” Candice complained, then scowled briefly before giggling when both adults laughed. “Isn’t it?”

  * * * * *

  “Good night sweetie.” Jessica said, lifting the covers up to her daughter’s chin. Though the days here in the middle of South Florida were mild, the nights did dip down to the fifties. Definitely enough to put a chill in the air. Candice was wearing a jacket and socks, plus had the bed sheets and blanket to boot, and Jessica had taken to putting a couple of cast iron pans into the fire before going to bed each night just in case anyone wanted to get up and fetch one to further warm their beds.

  “Good night mom.” Candice said, reaching with both arms. Smiling, Jessica leaned down and rubbed her nose across her daughter’s several times as the girl hugged her neck.

  “Nosy kisses and sweet dreams.”

  Jessica made one final adjustment to the sheets, then crossed to the door. On the table next to it lay a garden path light, which provided a wan and warm glow as its bulb drew on the solar charged power it had been soaking up throughout the day before being brought inside as night fell. She turned it so the light was directed at the wall, and away from the bed, which cast the room into a more subdued but still seeable glow, then slipped out into the hallway.

  Two homemade brackets on either end of the house’s back hallway held two more of the path lights, ensuring it too stayed lit and didn’t descend into scary and dangerous darkness in case anything happened during the night. Jessica went into the front of the house and checked all the entrances again, confirming the wooden beams backstopping the doors and shuttered windows were in place in their carefully installed brackets, before going into the bedroom next to Candice’s, at the end of the hall.

  “All tucked in?” Austin asked from the bed, where he was sitting up against the wall behind its head with some books in his lap. She recognized them as the gardening and growing books she’d been looking over for the past week. Three more path lights were in holders above him, which gave the room an almost candlelit quality.

  “Another day down—” Jessica began.

  “—safe and sound.” Austin finished. He grinned at her as she closed the door. “What’s on the schedule for tomorrow?”

  Jessica smiled back. “Want me to check my list?”

  “No, you can just make something up if you want.”

  “Spoken like a true follower.”

  “I’ll follow you anywhere, you know that.”

  “I know.” Jessica said, crossing to the bed and sitting down in his lap. He swept the books out of the way just in time, and slid his arms around her waist as she draped hers across his shoulders. “Got any ideas or should I seriously make something up?”

  “My ideas are mostly about tonight.”

  “Yeah, well, I think we’ve got that part covered.” she said before leaning in to kiss him.

  “We are pretty good at the nights.” he murmured when they broke off the kiss, his breath puffing against her face. It smelled of duck fat and pepper and herbs and, more faintly, of fish; but she didn’t mind. Nor did she mind the distinct lack of the heavily scrubbed and soapy scents that had been the norm for everyone in her life, including her, before everything fell apart and the world began eating itself.

  Now, these smells, of honest work and sponge baths and gamey food, she took them as comforts. Even a certain amount of actual dirt was acceptable to her these days. They smelled like safety and security, of a life spent not being eaten by zombies and not being reduced to cowering somewhere unknown while the very real monsters in the night shuffled past outside trying to find something warm to gnaw on.

  “Cards and Scrabble and games are only so interesting for so long.” she murmured back.

  “I did have a thought though.” he said, pulling his head back just a little, so he could look into her eyes more comfortably. “About tomorrow.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  “Thank you Your Highness.”

  “Stop.” she laughed, batting at the back of his head.

  “Big tough he-man was thinkin
g we could start the garden.”

  “Hmm.” Jessica said thoughtfully. “Well, it is January. Unless we get a freak cold snap this is probably about as cold as it’s going to get.”

  “And we’ve got plenty of seeds and stuff, and know where to find more. Worst case, we’re only out a day or two of preparing and planting. We can just replant in a couple of months if they don’t take.”

  “Which we can spare.” Jessica allowed. “Thanks to you.”

  “Us.” he corrected gently. “Thanks to us.”

  “Regardless of what I tell Candice, we both know you’re doing the heavy lifting.”

  “Well, I’ll grant you that I literally lift heavy things. But we’re a team.” he said, smiling. When she opened her mouth, and he read her expression of objection, he short stopped her by abruptly slipping his hands up under the hem of her shirt and both poking and tickling into her sides.

  “Ahhhh!” she said before laughing. She knew better than to try to pull his hands away, and settled for simply holding onto his neck and trying not to wiggle too much.

  “Don’t sell yourself short.” he said, ceasing the tickling and pulling her in closer as she squirmed. “If it weren’t for you I’d be … I don’t know where or what I’d be.”

  “You’d be surviving.” Jessica said as she managed to get her breath and voice back under control. “You’re good at surviving.”

  “So are you. And thanks to you I’m not having to use the less comfortable stuff I know how to do just to get through the day.”

  “Stop.” she protested, but she couldn’t help showing amusement.

  “Three hot meals a day, don’t have to wash my own clothes, you even change the sheets in the bed.”

  “Least I can do if you’re out and about dodging zombies most days.”

  “You do your fair share of dodging out there with me. And we both know you’re a much better cook than me.”

  “You can open cans and heat them up better than just about anyone I’ve known.”

  “Keep talking and I will go bag a gator.” he said with gleeful malice. “I knew a guy who had a recipe for alligator chili, and I could probably replicate it.”

  “Threats is it?”