Dead Country

by Bonnie Dee

  I dressed in a tank top and sweats then looked at the bed with the fancy quilt tumbled halfway to the floor, the sheets crumpled from last night’s sleep. Brian’s mom would’ve had a fit to see her guest room so messed up. I imagined the kind of wholesome, bread-baking, cake-decorating, PTA-attending mom she must’ve been and felt a pang of loss for a woman I’d never met. Part of me wanted to tumble into bed and sleep for hours. But it was early so I went downstairs instead.

  Brian had already cleaned up in the other bathroom and sat on the living room couch, drinking amber liquid from a glass. His hair was still shower-damp. When I dropped down onto the couch beside him, I smelled shampoo and whiskey. He leaned forward and poured me a glass from the bottle on the coffee table. I drank it in a gulp. The ice chips inside me began to thaw as the alcohol hit.

  “Hungry?” he asked.

  “No.”

  After that we had nothing else to say. A day like we’d been through, there weren’t words to describe and reliving the details of what had happened was too painful. It was too much effort to talk so we sat and drank and watched the patch of sunlight on the floor shift slightly as the sun progressed across the sky.

  Some time later Brian got up and put music on a small ‘90’s style CD player. He sat down again and we listened. The guitarist was decent, the drummer better, but the lead vocalist was what really sold the songs. He growled and moaned and whispered and played the listeners as if they were his instrument. I closed my eyes and dozed a little.

  I jerked awake when Brian lightly touched my arm. The homey smell of soup made my stomach grumble. I took the bowl and spoon he offered. The sunlight on the floor had disappeared, the houses across the street blocking its rays.

  “Want anything else?” Brian asked when I’d emptied my bowl.

  “No. I’m good. Thanks.” I looked at his drained face, the lines curving on either side of his mouth, the furrow between his brows. No guy in his twenties should look so old. “What about you? Is there something I can do for you?” For once I didn’t mean anything sexual by those words, but even so they hung in the air between us creating a subtext all their own.

  “I mean, can I give you a backrub or something,” I explained. “It was a hard day. I’m sure your muscles are in knots. I was going to be a massage therapist once. Even went to classes for awhile.”

  He smiled and he didn’t look sixty anymore. “Thanks for the offer. But I’m sure you’re tired too. Maybe another time.” He rose. “I think I just want to crash now.”

  “Yeah. Me too.” I stood and my legs nearly buckled they were so wobbly. I was a little light-headed from drinking straight whiskey on an almost empty stomach and worn out from field labor and zombie dodging.

  Brian caught my arm and supported me until I got my balance. And then that moment happened, the one full of possibility and hormones and anticipation. I tilted my face, ready for a kiss, but Brian let go of me and turned away. I was disappointed as I followed him upstairs. When a guy looks at a girl as if he’d like to devour her then rejects her, it’s confusing.

  In the hallway, we paused before the two bedroom doors. We were the only ones in the house tonight and I could feel emptiness pushing in on me from all around.

  “I’m sorry about your friends,” Brian said. “You lost a lot of them today.”

  “You too. I’m sorry about that family.” Only one of the Wilkins son’s wives had survived the attack and she was a catatonic wreck.

  “I didn’t really know the Wilkins family, but thanks.”

  We paused again, silence spinning around us like a spider’s web and binding us tight. The longer I stood in front of my bedroom door, the more certain I was that I couldn’t stand to go in there.

  “Look, Brian. I don’t want to be alone tonight. I can’t be alone,” I finally laid it out bluntly. “Do you mind if I sleep with you?”

  After a heartbeat’s hesitation, he nodded. “Sure.”

  He opened the door to his room and I followed him inside. A masculine funk of dirty clothes pervaded the room, but it was comforting—human.

  Brian cracked the window to let in fresh air before going over to the bed and pulling back the covers. It was a wide enough bed for two, although the bed in his parents’ room would’ve been better. But I could understand him not wanting to sleep there. I made a last bathroom visit and by the time I returned, Brian was in bed, lying far over on one side.

  I’ve gone to bed with a lot of guys in my life and never felt the sudden shyness I felt at that moment. I climbed in on the other side of the bed and gingerly lay down with my back to him. If this were a normal situation, we’d grab at each other, kissing until our lips were bruised then fucking until we passed out. That kind of physical connection I understood. This was unfamiliar territory. There was a restraint, a politeness, a gentleness about Brian that was beyond my scope. He didn’t seize and grasp and demand. Instead, he moved in behind me and slid a hand over my hip until his arm was around me.

  His warmth at my back was reassuring and alive, another person breathing the same air I was breathing, his heart beating along with mine. As I realized nothing sexual was going to happen, I began to relax, lust receding from my body which had been flush with desire. I’d thought I needed a quick and furious release, but what I really wanted was rest and calm. I closed my eyes and let stillness fill me.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Seven

  I really wanted to have sex with Ashleigh. Every cell in my body was clamoring for one thing—to get inside the girl. My cock was hard and heavy between our spooning bodies—Jesus, she must be able to feel it—and the hardest part was knowing I could have her if I wanted. She was hungry for it too. There was nothing wrong with two near strangers coming together after surviving a disaster, except I had a strong feeling it was the wrong thing to do right now. Ashleigh seemed too lost, fragile and needy, grasping at anything to feel better, and I didn’t want to be merely the handiest guy available.

  Too proud, my cock declared. Stop thinking so much and fuck her for my sake. I exhaled and stared at the back of Ashleigh’s head. Soft brown hair tickled my nose. Not yet. Maybe another night but not this one.

  But there might not be another night. Death surrounded us. Literally. Before we’d left the jail today, I’d overheard Jim Lewis, our best sharpshooter, report to Barry Jenson that zombies were appearing all along the fence line. It seemed they were flocking from the surrounding countryside and wherever they’d been before that to try to reach the living meat inside the wall. I hadn’t mentioned this report to the others. Tomorrow would be soon enough for more bad news. Tonight we’d all earned a rest.

  I closed my eyes, certain I wouldn’t be able to relax my jittery nerves or fall asleep with a girl in my arms. But when I opened them again it was morning. I’d slept hard and deep and apparently hadn’t moved all night because one of my arms was still slung over Ashleigh and the other, trapped between our bodies, was numb.

  I lay a few moments longer savoring the sensation of a soft breast clutched in my hand and the slow rise and fall of Ashleigh’s chest as she breathed. I felt her beating heart and the incredible warmth of her body snuggled against mine. At last I let go and rolled over. Pins and needles shot up my arm as the blood returned to it.

  Downstairs, the doorbell rang. I got out of bed and pulled on a pair of only slightly dirty jeans and a T-shirt then padded barefoot down to the front hall.

  Fes waited on my doorstep. He pushed past me into the house and headed for the kitchen. “You got any coffee ready?”

  “I just woke up,” I answered, trailing after him.

  He shot me a look, eyebrows raised. “Really? You never sleep in.”

  “What time is it?” I read the battery-powered digital clock on the counter. Ten thirty.

  Fes started to prepare the coffeemaker, the one electronic luxury I’d kept. He measured grounds into the filter. “Were you up late? Why were you up late? Ashleigh! You boned her, didn’t you? I knew i
t.”

  I took mugs from the cupboard. “No, I didn’t bone her.”

  “Why not? She’s hot. And she’s hot for you. I can tell. You guys were all alone here. Why didn’t you?”

  “In case you don’t remember, yesterday was kind of traumatic.” How could Fes act so cheerful this morning when he’d been a wreck yesterday afternoon?

  “Yeah. So what? All the more reason to fuck somebody’s brains out to relieve the stress. That’s what I did.”

  I stopped with the silverware drawer open in front of me. “Who?”

  “I don’t kiss and tell, but since you asked, Nancy Piznowski.”

  For a moment I drew a complete blank, my mind refusing to recognize an identity for the name even though I knew full well who it was. “Nancy. Red-headed Nancy from the council? Jesus, Fes, she’s got to be forty.”

  “So? Older women know what they’re doing in bed. They know what they want and they don’t play games. I went to Louie’s for a drink after I dropped you off. She was there. We drank for a couple of hours then we went to her house and it was fucking fantastic.”

  They say politics makes strange bedfellows. It’s got nothing on an apocalypse for bringing together people who never would’ve occupied the same universe under normal circumstances. I couldn’t think of anything to say to that. Then Ashleigh appeared in the kitchen doorway. Her light tank top outlined her nipples and a slash of bare stomach showed between the top and her low-riding sweats. My heart did a quick double beat and I gripped the spoon in my hand tighter.

  “Hi, Fes. What’s up?” she said. “I thought you might be Daylon.”

  “Not last time I looked.” He scraped his gaze down the length of her body. “Good night’s sleep?”

  “Solid, no nightmares. So yeah.” She walked over to the dripping coffeemaker. “God that smells wonderful. Fresh coffee is the best thing you guys have, next to the hot showers. You live like kings here.”

  “Not for long. Coffee supply is getting low. Soon it’ll be instant or nothing.” Fes looked at me behind her back, frowned and mouthed, You’re crazy.

  I supposed I was. I’d lain with this beautiful girl and wasted the entire night sleeping.

  “Janice wants to see you.” Fes abruptly got serious. “She sent me to get you. The big news is that zombies are gathering at the fence. More than we’ve seen in weeks. Guess the attack yesterday was only the beginning. And Janice and Daylon are locking horns. He’s demanding she release Maureen.”

  “How is Maureen this morning?” Ashleigh asked.

  “No symptoms yet. But you know we can’t be too careful. Janice thinks it’s time you leave town,” Fes said as he poured coffee.

  My stomach dived. I’d known Ashleigh wasn’t going to stick around long, but I’d thought I’d have at least a few days with her. You missed your chance. You didn’t even kiss her, said the helpful voice in my head.

  “Now that she doesn’t need us anymore to pick the corn. What did Daylon say to that?” Ashleigh asked.

  “He swore at her and told her it was fine by him.”

  “Damn Daylon’s temper! We need time to recover after yesterday. I’m not ready to move on, especially if there’s more dead gathering out there. I can’t face that again.” Ashleigh picked up the steaming cup of coffee then set it down again. “I’m going to get dressed.”

  I watched her go then turned to Fes. “Any other news you want to tell me?”

  “Janice told Topeka our situation was heating up and asked for help. They said they’d send people when they could, but it sounds like ‘never’ to me.” Fes stared into his coffee cup.

  “They’re not ever going to help us, are they?” It was the most discouraged I’d ever heard him sound. His faith in our eventual rescue had been broken.

  “No. I don’t think so. I’ll finish getting dressed and go talk to her,” I said. Enough of holding down the fort and waiting for backup. Janice had to understand that a wall wasn’t going to be enough to protect us. It was time we developed a battle plan.

  Upstairs, I put on my socks and shoes and brushed my teeth. When I entered the hallway, I almost ran into Asheigh coming from the guest bedroom.

  She stopped me with a hand on my arm. “Hey, before we go, I just wanted to say thanks for last night. I tend to rush into things without thinking. I’m glad you didn’t.” She smiled and warmth rippled through me. “You were really sweet.”

  Sweet was usually a sign you’d been placed in the friend zone. I didn’t like the sound of it. Had I missed a small window of opportunity before she came to her senses and realized I wasn’t her type at all?

  “After everything we’d been through, it didn’t seem like the right time to do anything.” I fumbled to explain something that seemed totally stupid this morning. Now I wished I’d seized the moment.

  “You were right. It’d be nice to take a little time for once.” She rose on her toes and kissed me before heading down the hallway.

  I blinked, resisting the urge to grab her and pull her back for more of that. As I followed her downstairs, I felt the impression of her mouth on mine and the light touch of her hand on the side of my face, small details that unleashed a horde of feelings to rampage through me. I was doomed, crushing on a biker chick on her way to someplace else.

  Fes was waiting for us in the foyer and talking to Lainie, who’d come over from next door. The sick boy was with her. Considering Jeff had appeared to be on death’s door when I saw him last, he looked completely well now if a little shadowed under the eyes.

  “Hi, neighbor,” Lainie said. “We came over to borrow milk if you have any.”

  “Powdered not fresh,” I warned her and led the way toward the kitchen. Fes stayed in the foyer with Ashleigh. I glanced at Jeff and lowered my voice. “Feeling better?”

  The boy nodded. Freckles popped against his pale face.

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “It’s a miracle,” Lainie said. “His fever’s completely gone and he’s hungry for some cereal. You don’t happen to have Sugar Pops? That’s what he’s been asking for.”

  “No, sorry. Will Cap’n Crunch be sugary enough for you?” I asked.

  “Yeah.” Jeff’s voice was caught between a manly croak and a boyish squeak. I was suddenly deeply happy that at least this one boy was going to make it past puberty.

  “I have some books and comics upstairs you can look through to find something to read. And you can play games on my old Xbox even though TV’s not on the list of approved electronics,” I added in a confidential whisper. Utilities rationing was pretty fluid in Durbinville. Everyone had their own idea of what items were essential and didn’t always agree with what the council mandated.

  A smile flashed across the boy’s mouth quick as lightning then he nodded solemnly and remembered his manners. “Thank you.”

  I showed Lainie where everything was in the kitchen and she filled me in on what was happening at the other house. “Daylon and some of the others went to the courthouse to get Maureen released. The rest are sleeping or just relaxing. Thanks for the milk and cereal. I promise we won’t eat all your supplies, although Jeff seems to be starving this morning.”

  “Take whatever you want,” I said then added to the boy, “There’s a Zombie Hunter game if you feel up to it.”

  He grinned at the irony. “I’d rather play Madden if you’ve got it.”

  “Sorry no sports games here. I was never into them.” I left Jeff and Lainie in the kitchen getting bowls from the cupboard and mixing powdered milk.

  Fes was impatient to leave and talking a mile a minute to make up for his downtime yesterday. He filled me and Ashleigh in on more news as we got into the pickup with red handprints decorating the sides like marks in a primitive cave painting.

  “Your friend with the broken arm is doped up and sleeping at Marcy’s house. She’s the vet. Guess she took Richard home with her after she set his arm,” Fes informed us. “When I was at the bar last night, I heard some people discussing ma
king a run for it, maybe head for Topeka before things get worse. But Barry Jensen and some of his pals were arguing to stay put and fight for what we’ve got. We got supplies enough to last for a while yet.”

  “People have to decide for themselves what they want to do,” I said. “The council can’t order them to stay.”

  “I think they’re afraid the town will be left with only the old or weak and nobody to defend them. Like my grandma used to say, somebody’s got to hold down the fort. That’s you and me, Pasman.”

  His insight hit me like a baseball bat to the head. I’d been stewing for weeks over whether to leave or stay with only my own welfare in mind. I hadn’t considered that if every strong, able person hit the road, those who couldn’t so easily pack up and go would be left defenseless. I took Fes, someone I’d never seen as a role model for empathy, to understand the truth about our role here. We had an obligation. We couldn’t just take off.