by Lee, Raymond
She shouldn’t care about him at all, should have stopped long before she’d heard of the Z1219 outbreak, but how could she stop loving the man she’d envisioned her future with? The man who’d once made her feel like the most beautiful, most perfect woman in the world?
No one had ever made her feel as special as he had, all the way up until he’d announced he was marrying some whore from Russia. Oh, he’d said she was a good woman, that Russian women had traditional values. That was what made them better than American women. They worked hard at marriage so he knew he wouldn’t divorce. They’d be together forever, him and this stranger from another country. He cared about her, but he couldn’t be with her. He had to marry this stranger because of financial reasons.
She knew now it was all lies. She’d done her research online and with friends. She’d never been to that godforsaken country but she knew others who had. They’d laughed when she’d told them what Daniel Kaye had done to her, the reasons he’d given. They laughed at him, not at her. He’d have to have paid thousands to get that woman into America, and traditional values? Try no values. None at all.
But these were the women Daniel found worthy of marriage. It was that kind of woman he’d left her for while claiming he was a real Christian, and that he cared about her.
It was that woman who’d ultimately killed him.
So why the hell was she here now, outside his house?
She had to end it.
She had to end the obsession. Yes, she knew she was obsessed. How else would she know this was his home? She’d stalked him on the internet. She’d never seen any pictures of his mail-order bride or discovered her name, both things she was thankful for, but she’d found out quite a bit about him. All the things he’d lied about.
She laughed now. She’d actually thought he was the best man in the world, that he would never hurt her. She’d worried that she wasn’t worthy.
The bastard had used her, plain and simple. Left her without a real goodbye. Well, she was done being forgotten. She was going to get her closure whether he liked it or not, whether he was dead or alive.
She grabbed her knife, the biggest, sharpest one she’d had in her knife block at home, and exited the car, shutting the door as quietly as she could. She’d already run into a few of the zombies in the neighborhood. She’d felt no remorse whatsoever as she’d mowed them down, dragging their bodies until they finally separated from the car, figuring they all had come from Daniel’s mail-order bride. And if they hadn’t, well then they’d come from someone else’s Russian trash.
Good riddance.
Maura walked up the sidewalk, right to the front door. She looked at the empty flowerbeds, imagining the beautiful roses that would have been growing there if she’d been Daniel’s wife, if he’d chosen her over that green card slut.
“I guess they don’t grow roses in Russia,” she muttered. “They don’t appreciate human life there so why the hell would they appreciate the beauty of a rose?”
She knocked, the thought that she shouldn’t have to knock fueled her anger. This should be her house. She should have a key.
No one answered the door, but she didn’t expect them to. She waited a few minutes to see if her knocking caused any commotion inside. When none came, she backed up, channeled her rage and kicked the door. She kicked it again, and again and again. Finally, it swung open.
She stepped inside the ugliest living room she’d ever seen, but that wasn’t what stopped her in her tracks. It was the man sitting on the floor, propped against the wall, injured leg stretched out and gun pointed at her head.
“Maura?”
She stood still for a moment, surprised. She’d come for closure, yes, but hadn’t expected to find him like this. He was still himself, just a bit sweaty and his red-rimmed eyes didn’t look so great.
“You mean you remember my name? What I look like?” she questioned once the surprise waned. “Impressive considering I’ve pretty much just been dead to you since you threw me away like trash.”
“Why are you here?” He lowered the gun. “Am I hallucinating?”
“No, unlike the skank you married, I’m completely genuine. All real.” She closed the door behind her, despite the bottom hinge being broken. Even minimal resistance was better than just leaving the door wide open for any zombified neighbors. “Where is she, by the way? Off munching on the locals? Enjoying the American cuisine?”
“She’s dead. How’d you know where to find me?”
“A lot of people are dead now. Being dead doesn’t really seem to stop their munchies. As for how I found you, you can pretty much find anything on the internet.” She looked around the living room. Everything was brown and orange. Two normally fine colors which were just hideous when thrown together in a living room. “You could have found decorating tips online. You really should have, or did she decorate the house? She was the lady of the house, right? Your wife?”
“Your words,” he said, his breathing labored. “So much venom. Why?”
“Why?” Maura’s voice elevated. “What do you expect of me, Daniel? Am I supposed to be nice and sweet as if you didn’t betray me? You left me for some stranger.”
“We hadn’t been together in a year, Maura. I didn’t leave you for her.”
“I wanted to marry you! You married her instead, a complete stranger. Do you remember in the beginning?” She laughed, thinking about it, about the absurdity. “I didn’t want you. Hell, if we’re being honest I didn’t even find you the least bit attractive. I’ve never been into the blue-eyed blond type. You pursued me though, pretended to care.”
“I did care. I do.”
“Shut up!” she screamed. She’d went over everything he’d ever told her, every lie, went over every single word, dissecting everything a million times. He’d lied, and she’d believed it. She wouldn’t again. “When I asked you why I should start a relationship with someone who’d be leaving you told me you’d take me with you. When I was scared to believe in you all you did was go on and on about how much you cared about me, how much you wanted to be with me. Then you just left me! You didn’t even say goodbye.”
“Maura.”
“You said you’d never hurt me.”
“And that’s why I pulled away from you before I left. I never wanted to hurt you, Maura.”
“Then why did you? You promised me!” she yelled.
“Maura, I don’t have … I can’t do this. Not now. Keep your voice down. I don’t know how many are left but they are attracted by noise.”
“They? You mean your wife’s people?”
“She was injected with a virus. She didn’t choose to turn into a monster.”
“Oh, of course. Of course you’d defend her.”
“Why are you here, Maura? Why’d you come all this way?”
“I live here. Well, not here in Nashville but close enough. I told you I’d always planned on moving to Tennessee. I could have moved sooner had you chosen me. I sure as hell would have had this house looking better. Seriously, who puts brown and orange together?” She crossed the room and crouched down in front of him. “I came for closure. I’ve tortured myself with what-ifs ever since the day you told me you were marrying her. Oh, my fault, since the day you texted me. It would have taken actual balls to tell me to my face but you lacked those. The real question is why are you here? I didn’t expect to find you like this. Still human.”
“I won’t be for very long. I got bit.” He gestured toward his leg with a grimace.
Maura looked down at the mottled gash in his thigh. The fabric of his uniform pants had been cut around it.
“You’re in uniform.”
“It’s a war. I’m a soldier. Might as well be suited up.”
She’d only seen him in uniform once, didn’t think she’d ever see him in the camouflage again. She still remembered kissing him in that uniform. She quickly shoved the memory aside.
“The news said the virus spread through contact.” She swallowed back bile o
n the last word. She didn’t want to think of the specific type of contact he’d had with the whore. The thought had sickened her too many nights as it was.
“That’s why I don’t have a lot of time. I told you one of them bit me.”
“One of them?” She shook her head, not understanding. “You’re married to one of them. The disease was in you before their president hit the switch to turn it on. You should have already changed, or at least been halfway there.”
“I never slept with Olga.”
Maura blinked at him, processing. She didn’t know which part of that sentence was harder to comprehend, that he hadn’t slept with his wife after two years of marriage or that the bitch had a name as ugly as Olga. “Come again?”
“I told you I needed to marry her for financial reasons. I was facing bankruptcy and already had a civilian job, and my military pay. The arrangement was that Olga’s family would pay a large sum to get her over here.”
“You said it was a real marriage.”
“It was. We still took vows, but she and I didn’t know each other well. We were married. We had the rest of our lives to grow together.”
“Right. Until she passed her expiration date,” Maura commented. “So for two years now you could have had a real marriage with me but you threw it away for what was even more of a sham than I thought? I could have helped you financially.”
“Had we been together I would have probably never gone the route I went, Maura, but you didn’t live here. I couldn’t leave. I had a house, responsibilities.”
“I told you I would have left my home behind and moved here with you. I could have found a new job here.”
“You were about to open your own store.”
“I could have done that here.”
“I cared too much about you to ruin your life. I didn’t want you to lose out on your dream.”
“Then you shouldn’t have become my dream.”
He closed his eyes and rested the back of his head against the wall. “I never meant to hurt you. I still don’t want to hurt you. I have weapons. Take them and leave. Leave before I change. There’s a place in Nebraska. A safe place. Go there. You shouldn’t have come here.”
“I had to. You never gave me closure.”
“Closure?” He laughed. “I’m dying here. Is that closure enough for you?”
“No.” His laughter fed her anger. “I loved you. I could have helped you financially, I could have helped you raise your son, and I wouldn’t have done it because I needed something from you. I would have given you more than she did. I would have given you love.”
Someone screamed in the distance.
“There’s more out there. You need to go, Maura.”
“I ran over infected men as I neared your house,” she told him. “Were there a lot of mail-order brides here?”
“Just Olga.”
“I ran over at least three infected men. Their skin was falling off. Those men weren’t freshly introduced to the virus, not like you. How do you think they became infected?” The devil on Maura’s shoulder danced with glee as it all came together.
“She was sleeping with them. I suspected for awhile.”
Maura laughed. For the first time in two years she laughed until tears leaked from her eyes. “She wasn’t comfortable enough with you, but she didn’t mind sleeping with the neighbors. Oh, that’s great.” She slapped her leg and stood.
“Where is she?” she asked, walking into the kitchen. Not a bad kitchen. A large bar in the center of the room would have given her plenty of space to prepare meals. Wine bottles were everywhere though. In fact, the bottles seemed to be the décor. She guessed if she was married to someone who was only using her for a green card while sleeping with all the neighbors she’d consume a lot of alcohol too. “Oh, that’s right. The two years are up. Did she take the green card and run?”
“She’s next door. What’s left of her.”
Maura walked back into the living room. “You kill her?”
He nodded, slowly. “I had to. There was no other choice.”
“Is she the one who bit you?”
He nodded again.
“So I would have given you everything but you chose a woman who took everything, even your own life.”
“Enough, Maura. Enough bitterness. It isn’t you.”
She crouched down in front of him again and reached out. She cupped his jaw in her hand and looked deep into his red-rimmed eyes. Just looking into those eyes, remembering the way he used to look at her as if she were perfection was enough to bring tears to her own but she inhaled deep and held the tears back with every ounce of willpower she had.
“That’s the thing. You break a person’s heart, they become a different person.” She rested the back of her hand along his brow. “You’re burning up.”
“I’m infected. You need to leave me now. Get to Nebraska. Lincoln. They’ll take care of you. Take whatever you need.”
“I needed you,” she said softly, before standing.
He looked like hell. His skin was flushed, eyes growing redder. He was always pale but never like this. He looked ghostly.
He was dying.
It hurt. It angered. It hurt and it angered. She loved him, and she always would, but he brought this on himself. He could have been with her. She would have made his home better, cooked for him, cleaned for him. He could have had every dime she made. She would have given him everything. She sure as hell wouldn’t have slept with the neighbors and infected him with a disease.
But he threw her away like trash to marry the real piece of garbage. She loved him, but he didn’t deserve it. And now he was just going to die on her. Coward.
She turned and walked down the hallway, passing a bathroom and a bedroom that looked like a child’s. Junior’s room, every other weekend. She didn’t waste time looking through the young boy’s room. She should have been his step-mother, but instead she never met him and he didn’t even know she existed. Just as well. He was male. He would have turned out selfish just like his father. Just like all of them.
She found Daniel’s office and entered. She glared at the computer, the machine that likely introduced him to Olga. Olga. Ugliest name ever.
A door with six dead bolt locks stood open on her right. She stepped inside and whistled. Guns lined the wall. She noticed the empty space where the gun Daniel had pointed at her should have been stored. There were boxes of ammo, knives, and daggers.
Sadly, she didn’t know crap about guns, but she knew how to wield a knife. Who didn’t? She traded her kitchen knife out for a much more lethal machete and eyed the grenades. Those she could manage. Pull a pin and throw. Even with her bad aim, it didn’t matter. As long as she chucked the grenade somewhere within the vicinity of her target it would do its job. She found a sheath for the machete but she needed something to carry the grenades in.
She left the office and entered the master bedroom. The pain hit her like a hundred razor blades, slicing deep right through the chest. She pictured Daniel sleeping in that bed, looking so peaceful with eyes closed, drawing steady breaths. She should have been lying next to him in the image but she wasn’t. Some faceless hussy with a virus implanted in her DNA snuggled up to him. Some faceless whore that wore the flimsy nightgown draped over the chair next to the bed. He might not have slept with her in the biblical sense but they were married. She was his wife. They shared that bed, this whole house. She was his child’s stepmother. She was all the things Maura should have been.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. She didn’t even love Daniel. She would have infected Junior had he been there after the virus was activated. She might have eaten him like a freaking hamburger. But her nightgown was there next to Daniel’s bed. Next to where she herself should have rested her head at the end of the day.
Not that bitch.
Maura turned away, her breaths sharp and heavy. The pain intensifying as fiery hot anger rolled through her. She passed Junior’s room again but this time she ste
pped inside. It was so foreign to her. It shouldn’t be. She should know where everything in this house was. The little boy in the picture she picked up on the dresser shouldn’t be a stranger. He should have known her name. He didn’t have to call her Mom, but he should have at least known her name. He knew Olga’s ugly ass name.
Maura slammed the picture down, not wanting to look at it, not wanting to see the child she would never know. There was a backpack slung over the bedpost. Not a child’s cartoon character bag, but an army grade pack. What else but the best for the son of a Master Sergeant?
She reached out for it but something else caught her eye, something much better.
Daniel was slumped over when she walked back into the living room. The thought that he might have succumbed to the infection before she had a chance to give him an earful fueled her anger.
“You better not be dead yet.”
He raised his head and groaned. Blood red eyes focused on her. “Maura? Get weapons. Get out. Get out before I do something bad.”
“Before you do something bad? Abusing my trust, breaking my heart and leaving me for that vile waste of flesh wasn’t you doing something bad?”
“What?” He shook his head as if clearing it but groaned from the pain it seemed to cause. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You have to go now. Don’t want to hurt you.”
“You already hurt me. You hurt me worse than anyone ever hurt me. And now you just want me out of your house.”
“Not safe here. Safer in Nebraska.”
Maura barely heard the words he was straining to say, too worked up. She’d realized it once she’d seen the nightgown. He wanted her gone. He had never wanted her in his house, in his life. She was a diversion, a way to pass time before he’d had his idea of a dream wife shipped in. And now she was in his home, his wife’s home. He didn’t want her there, dishonoring the whore who’d cheated on him during their whole joke of a marriage.
Well, screw that. She was here and had no intention of leaving.