by Gillian Zane
I knew we had to be quiet, my house was small, the walls thin, but when I came, I screamed so loud I had to press my face into the pillow to muffle it. Blake went over the edge with me. He pounded into me over and over again, emptying himself into my body. He managed to keep it much quieter, but I could tell by the way he was shaking that he didn’t make it through unscathed.
He left the vibrator in me until I couldn’t take it anymore. “I can’t, please Blake, please, no more.” And finally he removed it, pulling me up to him, his dick slipping from me, both of us spent.
“It’s you and me, you got that, Lex? After this shit, I’m not letting you out of my sight. It’s the fucking end of the world and I meet the perfect woman. I can’t believe we met like this. We are sticking together, to the end. Right?”
“Yes,” I nodded. He looked so worried when I turned to face him. I kissed him because he looked like he needed it. The resulting kiss wasn’t the usual passion I was used to, it was desperate, full of need.
“We shouldn’t have done this here. We should have waited to get back to the boat, I just can’t help myself around you.” He pulled me into a tight embrace and I closed my eyes as he held me close. I could almost, just almost, believe we had a chance if we stuck together.
SEVEN | Aim for the Head
The truck bed was full when we loaded everything into it. We were definitely loaded for bear now. Obviously I had more stuff than I realized. We still had plenty of daylight, which was a good thing since we would have to load all these supplies onto the ship and put them away in a safe place. Blake said he had spotted a larger boat at the dock when we arrived, which would hopefully cut down on our back and forth trips to the our boat. I hoped our luck would hold out a little longer to get these supplies in place.
The trip back to the dock was uneventful. We spotted at least ten zombies, but there was no way they could catch up with us in the truck. Charlie also proved himself useful, coming to attention and alerting us if one was close. But, nothing came close enough to matter, alive or dead. No one alive showed themselves. It was scary to think that the city had been overtaken so easily. I hoped that it was just a matter of everyone hiding within their homes. I didn’t want to ponder the alternative…everyone dead.
As we drove over the levee I realized our luck had finally run out. A group of zombies, dressed similar to the zombie we killed this morning, were milling about the shipyard. These men must have been attacked at their work, which I assumed was a large warehouse to the West of the office building since they were still dressed in coveralls.
“We’ll do this fast, just go for them with the ax, take out the head. Don’t chop down on the skull, go for the side.” Blake had taken a machete from my garage and he was ready to do some chopping himself.
“I’ll go for the one on the right first,” I said and he nodded. We came out swinging. My ax made contact with the first one’s neck and instead of gushing, the arterial blood just oozed. The blow must not have been strong enough though because he kept coming for me. Another swing practically took the top of its head off and finally he went down. I turned to help Blake, but he didn’t need any assistance, the two other zombies lay at his feet, heads split open.
“I think I need a machete.”
“I’ll get you one,” he smirked. “Alright, back in the truck. Get back it onto the dock. I’m going in to try and get the key to that service boat.”
I got behind the wheel and backed the truck up onto the dock. It was a nail-biting experience, big truck, little dock, reverse, not my specialty. But, I did it, only scraping the side twice. It didn’t help that I was worried about Blake, alone, in the building.
I was pacing the length of the dock, with Charlie at my heel when he finally ran out to meet me. He had key in hand, and we immediately began loading the boat with all the supplies. It was a small vessel, probably used to ferry personnel back and forth to the larger tugs, but there was enough room to fit everything I had packed up from my house.
The loading and unloading of the boat went easy and by dusk we had everything packed away on our boat. I was worn out and I could tell Blake was too, but he wanted to get moving before it was full night. He knew a place he wanted to tie up for the evening, a place near his home which he was hoping on hitting tomorrow.
Blake’s had mentioned that his house was located in Uptown New Orleans, which was in the opposite direction, upriver back toward the French Quarter and ground zero. We had passed up his home to get to mine, which I wasn’t too happy about. He explained he had assumed I was near him and just went with it as I directed him to my neighborhood. So, back we went, what would normally be a five minute trip by car took us a little longer, it was slow going on the river because we kept close to the bank so he could pinpoint our location using landmarks.
We pulled up to a barge just as full darkness hit and Blake decided this was as good a place as any to tie up for the night. We were both completely wiped and I had no objection when he dragged me to bed. I would have liked to have a repeat of last night, but there was no question sleep was the priority. I think I was actually dreaming before my head hit the pillow.
Two nights down in this post-apocalyptic world.
EIGHT | Cheerful Yellow Walls
Blake was a machine and he was on a mission. We woke at first light, or at least I did. Blake was already up with our bags packed. I followed his lead and slipped into some of the clothes I had procured yesterday.
He rewarded me with a warm kiss in greeting when I met him on deck. The tingle it sent through my body was unexpected and enjoyable. I wanted him again, but we didn’t have time. Busy, busy surviving bees.
“We can actually reach the bank from this barge. We’ll have to jump a few feet from this one to the one in the parallel position, but it won’t be a challenge. The challenge is going to be crossing the warehouse area and the tracks. My house is located near Children’s Hospital, which is actually something I’m really worried about. There might be a concentration of zombies in that area because of people that sought help for bites during the initial outbreak. Bunch of fucking kid zombies.” He shivered in disgust.
“Can we avoid the area, maybe detour up a back way?” I asked.
“I’m going to try to get us up State Street instead of Henry Clay, which is where Children’s is located. We’ll make a left on Tchoup and then my house is located at the midway point down a side street. I want to keep a fast pace, how is your stamina?” He looked me up and down as if he was assessing my fitness level.
“I’m not a long distance runner if that is what you’re asking, I fucking hate running.”
“We’re going to have to work on that.”
“I doubt my fitness is going to be hard to maintain in this world. Running from zombies sure motivates a girl.”
“Yeah, fat doesn’t stick to end of the world survivors,” he laughed and shook his head as if embarrassed for saying fat. “Speaking of which, let’s grab a protein bar and get started. I want to be back on this boat by noon.”
“You think we can move that quickly?”
“Yes, and I don’t have a lot of supplies to grab at my house, mostly arms and ammo. Do you want to take Charlie?” He motioned to the dog that was pacing the foredeck.
“No, if it’s only going to be a quick trip. I’ll leave food out and he can guard the boat.” I whistled for Charlie. “Charlie, achtung!” I put bowls of food and water down for him.
“Charlie, bleib!” And the beautiful boy sat down on his haunches and went on alert. “He’ll stay on the boat.”
“Perfect.” Blake scratched Charlie behind his ear and the dog whined in response.
“Alright, let’s do this.” I took a big bite of a very gooey protein bar and smiled, realizing too late that I probably had chocolate teeth. Smooth, Alexis.
Blake just shook his head amused and handed me a pack, slinging his own onto his broad back.
We easily jumped from one barge to the other. I had a sicke
ning thought of falling into the water between the barges, but it was only a small jump of about four feet and I cleared it with plenty of room to spare. After that, it was as simple as getting on the docks and making our way to the warehouses in the distance.
Blake was ready for anything when we entered the yard. He made his way in a shooter’s stance, gun drawn and ready as we crept along. We had an extensive line of sight once we passed the storage yard, which allowed us to relax and pace ourselves. It wasn’t until we cleared the flood-walls that we encountered resistance. They were on us almost immediately.
“I don’t want to shoot them, but there is too many,” Blake hissed as he thrust his knife into the head of an attacking zombie.
“They can hear,” I called, noticing a small group turned at the sound of our voices and began heading in our direction. I wanted desperately to draw my gun and shoot them, but it would just draw more.
We chopped and sliced our way through about ten of them. It was hard work. They came running at us and you had to avoid fingernails and mouths, aiming for the head. My ax embedded into their skulls with each forecful chop and I had to yank it out over and over again.
By the fifth zombie my arms were aching and I was covered in gore. I took two seconds to catch my breath and wipe the gore from my face when another few zombies shambled toward us. I glanced at Blake and he jerked his head to the right. He ran. I followed. When one of the dead would get near us, we would stop and chop and slice until they lay at our feet. We were dispatching another small group of zombies when I looked up and realized we had made it to Tchoupitoulas Street. We were almost there. Our pace quickened. We couldn’t get off the street fast enough.
As we rounded the corner, the sound hit us, the groaning and shuffling of what had to be hundreds of zombies. Unfortunately, my estimation was right as we slid to a stop gaping at the magnitude of zombies that were just shuffling along Tchoupitoulas toward Audubon Zoo. It looked like a massive group of tourists going on some macabre stroll. Men and women in shorts and elaborate Hawaiian shirts, bags still slung over their shoulders, fanny packs at their waist. There were even small children zombies that shuffled along with their dead parents, their hair pulled back in pigtails and spiked up in faux hawks. The sight of them was what disturbed me the most. Their little bodies covered in sticky dried blood, their lips pulled back in a grimace as they gnashed their teeth and sniffed the air for the smell of living flesh, their movements jerky, their expressions vacant and hungry.
None of them had spotted us yet, but we didn’t have long. We had very little options available.
“Blake, what do we do? Can we hole up in one of these houses? Is that safe?”
“This way,” his hand gripped my upper arm and he urged me forward, across the street. We took a few tentative steps and then broke off into a “zombies are chasing us” run. He headed straight for what looked to be a corner grocery. It was a two-story building and I hoped to God there was nothing living or dead in it as Blake slammed into the front door. It was open and he quickly shoved me in, then turned around to secure the door as several dead bodies slammed into it. They just kept on pressing against the door as more piled behind them.
I could hear their moaning and the muted sound of their fists as they pounded on the walls and door.
“This isn’t going to hold,” I hissed and he nodded in acknowledgment.
“We can’t stay here long, that door is going to break.” The words slipped out of his mouth just as a body hit us from behind, knocking us both off-kilter. It was pressing against me, trying to bite down on any exposed flesh. Oh my God, it was all over me. Its teeth, its nasty teeth were inches from my face. Blood dripped from its mouth as if it had just snacked on someone recently. I managed to press my arms against its neck, I kept the teeth away from my exposed skin. If I slipped one inch I was toast. I didn’t know how long I could hold it off as it struggled to get closer to me and I struggled to keep it away from my face. I was going to die. I knew it. I could sense my death was imminent. It was going to rip me apart and there was nothing I could do about it. Where the fuck was Blake?
Suddenly its weight was lifted off of me and I could breathe. I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath, but now with the relief of pressure I began to hyperventilate as I sucked in air too quickly. I drew in a few quick gasps to calm my breathing, after a few seconds I finally got myself under control and then I got to my feet. Blake had dispatched the fucker with a knife to the cranium. I noticed there was another body on the floor which must have been the reason for his delay. Shit, he just saved my life.
I looked up and his eyes met mine. I hoped they conveyed my gratitude because there was no time for thanks. The door at the front of the store was splintering. I could hear the tell-tale screeching sound of wood giving out under pressure. We didn’t have long before those dead fuckers were in here and on us.
“Get to the back of the store. There has to be a way upstairs.” He yelled as he pressed against the door, holding back the mass of zombies. I did as I was told and found a narrow stairwell in the storage area, behind the cash register. It was a converted home and this looked like it used to be a kitchen. Blake joined me, out of breath, slamming the door that led to the store area to put one more obstacle between us and them.
“They are right behind me,” he pushed a large storage shelf in front of the door and motioned for me to go upstairs. I wasn’t ready for more of these things, but I did it. I forced myself to move and made my way upstairs. There was one up here. I didn’t let it surprise me though. I wonder if it was taken unaware when my ax split open its brain? The split and crunch of skull and brains was becoming cathartic. I was going psycho.
The upstairs seemed to be a living area for the owners of the store. The one I had just taken out was only a teenager and I guessed the two adults downstairs were the parents. From the pictures on the wall that I really didn’t want to acknowledge, there were only three of them. Smiling. Happy. Now dead. That was until I saw a few new pictures that were added to the end of the hallway picture collage. I realized that this family had a new addition.
Holy fuck. I couldn’t face this shit.
Blake’s hand gripped my shoulder when he saw the picture I had focused on. A tiny baby held in the arms of its mother as she gazed at the camera with joy evident on her face. We both tensed up when we heard a weird cry. The sound came from a room down the hall.
“I have to check,” I choked out. All Blake could do was nod before he followed me to the open door at the end of the hall.
The walls were done in a cheerful yellow with pictures of ducks and teddy bears smiling all over the place. The smell didn’t fit the cheerful room, it was rotten. There was blood splashed on the wall above the crib and that sight told me that there was no way the child could be alive. But I had to look anyway.
It took two blinks, two quick looks. Two quick passes with my eyes to assess the torn open stomach, the blood, and the fucking kicking feet. The little fists reaching, hungry. Then I turned and I began to vomit. Protein bars don’t taste that good going down, much worse coming up.
The weird cries were silenced. Blake must have done something with that big knife that he kept on his hip. I was grateful and horrified at the same time. But those feelings were washed away when he turned to me and handed me a bottle of water. Now I was just grateful and embarrassed. What did I expect? To find a goddamned baby in this mess, take it with me and become the Cleavers? I was an idiot.
I wiped at the stupid tears that were leaking from my eyes, hiding my face so Blake wouldn’t see. When they were dry I turned around and noticed Blake had opened a door and had walked out onto a balcony. He motioned for me to come over to him.
“I think we can get out of here,” he whispered, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention. He pointed to the backyard where there weren’t any zombies. “See that low-hanging oak tree limb? We can climb onto that and actually make it to the neighbor’s roof. It looks like they have a sid
e exit and the street seems clear in that direction. My house is only a block down. We can make a run for it. We just have to stay quiet.”