They needed a place where the Infection hadn’t hit. They needed a place where they could safe from the dead and the living alike. They needed a place where they could try to have some semblance of a life.
They needed something.
Alice sat on the edge of the bed and watched the storm through the bedroom window. Mark was asleep on the bed and Kyle had brought a bunch of couch cushions upstairs to make a makeshift bed for himself on the floor. Mark offered to let Kyle have the bed, but Kyle politely turned him down.
She knew why: the nightmares.
Mark was going to have nightmares, and sometimes Alice could calm him. Tonight she wasn’t worried about Mark, though. Tonight she was worried about herself. Tonight she was worried that she would see a face that hadn’t haunted her dreams for many years.
Tonight she thought she’d see Timmy.
She watched the rain pour down the window. She’d sat in her room so many times after he died and just watched the rain. To Alice, it seemed like the weather was awful after his death, but maybe she was just sad. Maybe she was just lost without her brother.
Maybe she was just a shell of a person without him.
It hadn’t been fair to lose him and it hadn’t been fair for her parents to run away from her to Florida. She told herself she couldn’t blame them, that they had to move on with their lives, too, but she felt abandoned.
She had a great job and a great apartment and a great life, but she didn’t have her family, and that killed her. Alice had always believed in the importance of family, in the value of closeness. Now she didn’t have that. Now she had dead creatures and starvation and rain.
Lots and lots of fucking rain.
They had eaten a sad little meal before going to sleep, but it hadn’t been enough. She’d felt full, but still hungry, and had no idea how that was even possible. Alice sucked on a mint, hoping the taste of sugar would calm her down, but it didn’t. Nothing did.
Nothing ever would.
Finally, she curled up next to Mark and closed her eyes. She focused on deepening her breathing, on trying to clear her mind, and eventually, sleep claimed her.
***
The world looked different in the morning.
Alice wasn’t sure where she was at first. The bed was too soft and the blankets were too hot and oh, there was someone next to her.
Mark.
It was only Mark.
She hopped out of bed, narrowly avoiding Kyle’s curled-up body on the floor. During the night, he had kicked his blankets off and rolled off the couch cushions. Now he was just lying on the worn brown carpet. He looked like he’d gotten drunk and passed out at a party.
He was going to have all the soreness but none of the fun.
She hurried out of the room and carefully closed the door behind her. She needed the bathroom and badly. Even though the power was out, the toilet would still have a few flushes left, and she intended to use her fair share before the water ran out.
Alice flushed the toilet and used mouthwash to rinse out her mouth. She felt a little fresher after that, but she still had dark circles under her eyes. She still looked like she’d been through hell.
She looked like the world was no longer her friend.
Quite a change from just a few days ago, she thought. Alice worked in a professional environment which meant that at work, her hair had to be perfectly styled and her makeup had to be flawless. She had to look the part she wanted to play.
When clients walked into Smith & McArthur, they expected a certain kind of experience. Some lawyers were greasy and gross. Some were slimy. Some were scum. At Alice’s office, though, everyone looked good. The waiting room was always stocked with the latest magazines and bestsellers and the music was always calming, but not boring.
They had a coffee maker and snacks and most of all, everyone who worked there looked good.
They paid their team members well and they charged the clients even more, but they could. Smith & McArthur worked to cultivate a certain type of experience for their clientele, and they had done it, as far as Alice was concerned. They had done it.
Now, just a few days after the world had died, she realized her looks had died with it. She had a couple of pimples and her skin felt oily and greasy. She grabbed a washcloth from a basket on the shelf and washed her face with cold water. It helped a little bit, but she still felt gross.
Was this just Alice’s default state now?
Was she just going to be nasty?
She shouldn’t care so much about her body, but she did. She cared that she smelled bad and looked bad and felt bad.
She just wanted this to be over.
She wanted to go back to when the worst thing she had to deal with was traffic on her way to work.
She wanted to go back to when things were simple.
“That’s not going to happen,” she said to herself in the mirror. “Cheer up, buttercup.”
Then she walked out of the room. She was going to go downstairs. She should check and see what food was in the kitchen, especially now that the sun was rising. Maybe there would be something good, something edible they could have.
Alice didn’t go down the stairs, though.
Instead, she turned to the other bedroom, the one Mark had told her to stay out of. She turned to the door he had told her not to go through. What could be so bad that she couldn’t go in there? What could be so awful he would tell her to stay away?
Alice had never been particularly good at following directions. She blamed it on her creative mind. If everyone followed the rules all the time, who would make great paintings? Who would design elaborate buildings? Who would dream up new ideas for books and movies and comics?
Now, she had a sinking feeling that she should listen to Mark, but she couldn’t help herself. The temptation was too great. Maybe it was exhaustion or perhaps her self-control had been pushed to the point where she just couldn’t resist anything anymore.
Alice took a step toward the door, then another.
She should have known better than to open the door.
She should have known better than to even look at it, but when she turned the knob and pushed it open, she realized why Mark had told her, begged her, to stay away from the room.
The smell washed over her first and she felt sick. She thought she might throw up, but she could help it. She could help herself. She wouldn’t throw up.
Only she did.
She leaned over the trash bin that was just inside the door and she threw up in it. She didn’t squat or sit, she just puked until her stomach hurt, and then she stopped. Then Alice stood back up and looked into the room, seeing what Mark had hidden from her for the first time.
For once in her life, Alice wished she had listened.
She opened her mouth and screamed.
Find out what happens next in Just Another Day in the Zombie Apocalypse: Episode 3.
Author
L.C. Mortimer loves zombies almost as much as she loves coffee. When she's not on a caffeine-induced writing spree, she can be found stocking up on canned goods for the apocalypse. Mortimer loves reading, playing zombie video games (7 Days to Die is currently her favorite), and spending time with her partner-in-crime: her husband of 11 years.
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Author
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Just Another Day in the Zombie Apocalypse (Episode 2) Page 7