Struggle (The Hibernia Strain)

by Peterson, Albert

  What if they didn’t make it?

  Panicked, I honk my horn as I’m pulling into the front yard. Not two iotas of a fuck do I give, as I hop out and start banging on the front door. If they aren’t alive then I don’t care if I attract every last infected mutant in the country.

  I’m about to bang again when the barrel of a rifle slides through the letter box and prods me in the gut.

  “Don’t shoot, don’t shoot I’m not sick.”

  Taking a step back I reiterate my plea.

  “Prove it and sit your ass down over there on the gravel, away from your jeep.”

  I’d know that voice a mile away.

  “Shawn it’s me, Matt. Look it’s me. I’m fine for God’s sake.”

  “Fuck sake Matt would ya just sit down.”

  I don’t know what’s going on but I suppose I can’t blame him for being extra careful.

  “Okay okay I’m moving.”

  I back away slowly, the gun following my every move. As I sit down the gun is retracted back inside and I hear several bolts snapping unlocked.

  The door opens gingerly and Shawn emerges, gun in hand aimed right at me.

  “Show me your arms.”

  I figure out straight away that he’s looking for zombie bites or their resulting bloody sores. My arms aren’t in bad condition, so I roll up my sleeves revealing the untainted skin.

  What has me worried is if he asks to see my torso. He might just panic upon seeing the gouge on my side.

  “Okay good now take off your top and let’s see the rest of ya.”

  “Shawn, really?”

  “Stop fucking around and do it already.”

  Oh cock, I’m in trouble now.

  I’m just beginning to unzip my hoody when I hear Shawn scowling, “Come back dammit,” as Emma breezes passed him and throws herself on top of me.

  “Matt it’s you, it’s really you. I knew you’d come.”

  She starts sobbing with what I hope is joy. I look over at Shawn who has now lowered the gun and is shaking his head while muttering something along the lines of, “Why even bother with safety measures.”

  My hands are still shaking with a combination of nervousness from Shawn’s cautious greeting and delight that my companions have managed to keep themselves alive. That topped off with the fact Emma is hugging me so hard she’s probably cutting off the supply of blood to my extremities.

  I look her straight in the face and while offering a smile I whisper, “It’s good to see you too!”

  This only causes her to squeeze tighter, as tears continue rolling down her cheeks. Examining her face, it’s clear to see the outbreak has taken its toll on her, not just physically but mentally too.

  Sadness is etched deep into her features, accompanied by multiple cuts and scratches. Her eyes appear dull and have lost the special sparkle that used to light them up. She doesn’t seem like herself anymore.

  “Okay if it’s alright with you two can we please move the jeep out of sight and get inside,” says Shawn breaking up the reunion.

  His abrupt and pushy attitude immediately triggers a signal that something is going on, something I don’t know about. While he usually can act like an asshole, he’s behaving more like a condescending dick now.

  Emma helps me up and we walk over to the jeep. I usher her into the driver seat to steer while myself and Shawn push it. At least this way the engine won’t be echoing across the countryside again.

  We manoeuvre it around to the back of the house and park it up alongside what’s left of Shawn’s shiny new pickup.

  Jesus it’s been through the mill, whatever happened there.

  Standing up I stretch out my back. I look over at Shawn. He smirks back and says, “It’s good to see ya buddy.”

  That’s a bit more like normal, but I can tell there’s something bothering him. His full concentration isn’t on me and he keeps making fleeting glances in Emma’s direction.

  Did something happen between them?

  I don’t have time to dwell on it however, as Emma is out of the jeep, and taking me by the hand she drags me indoors.

  The inside of the house is dim. All of the blinds are closed and curtains pulled tight. Shawn locks the door behind us making it even dimmer.

  As I stand in the hallway I can make out various unfamiliar faces peering out at me from inside the next room. It looks like Shawn and Emma have picked up a few companions along the way.

  Suddenly, a little kid pops out from amongst the others asking no one in particular, “Is it them?” but quickly halts and slinks back when he realises I’m not who he was hoping me to be.

  “Hi”, I say, a little bemused.

  The other faces don’t speak to me. Instead they whisper between themselves and frown. I guess I can’t blame them for being hesitant.

  I glance over at Emma.

  “Should I ask?”

  “I wouldn’t. C’mon,” she insists practically pushing me up a flight of stairs.

  I’m not sure what to think exactly, it seems kind of rude and unorthodox leaving everyone there like that, but I apparently have no say in the matter.

  We go into a bedroom. It’s obviously Emma’s as there are dozens of pictures of her with friends from her teenage years.

  She stands in close to me, just like when we first met in the alleyway, and bursts out crying. Burying her face into my chest she sobs uncontrollably. I don’t question it; instead I try to comfort her as best I can by holding her tightly.

  My head is a maze of confusion trying to figure out what could have worked her up so much, but I keep drawing a blank.

  By now she’s so upset her body is literally lurching. I try to calm her by planting a delicate kiss on her forehead. This tactic works well. Too well in fact as the tears stop flowing long enough for her to put her hands either side of my face and pull me in for a long lingering kiss.

  I’m really uncertain how to react. I don’t want to take advantage of her when she’s so upset, but if this is what she wants then who am I to stop her.

  We continue kissing, all the time becoming more and more passionate. Tears quickly give way to looks of lust and without much effort my jeans are soon around my ankles and Emma’s are flung to the other side of the room. I skilfully unhook her bra one handed and pull it off from underneath her t-shirt.

  Unlike our previous encounter there’s no heed for foreplay this time. Our bodies move closer and closer until I slide inside her without hesitation, despite the lack of protection. There’s nothing romantic about it. It’s simply physical desire and a want for comfort, a basic need for some human contact.

  The act of raunchiness is over quickly. Emma having already had an orgasm lets me know it’s my turn. I don’t hold back and my body writhes in pleasure as I cum.

  I’m feeling thoroughly satisfied but slightly lightheaded, so I pull my clothes back on and lie down on the bed.

  I watch as Emma nonchalantly gets dressed before lying down next to me. She nestles up against me on her side and rests her arm across my chest.

  “What’s going on around here?” I break the silence.

  Emma remains quiet.

  I try again, “Did something happen with Shawn?”

  She holds her tongue, but her facial reaction to my question betrays her vow of silence. Something did happen and it evidently wasn’t good.

  She clearly doesn’t feel like talking, so I don’t push my line of questioning any further. Instead, I pull her in closer and shut my eyes. I’ll sleep now. It feels like forever since I rested and now is a prime opportunity. I can sleep now and catch up with Shawn later to solve this overhanging mystery.

  Emma has no intention of doing likewise though. Despite the fact my eyes aren’t open, I can sense that hers are. I can hear her blinking in the overwhelming quietness of the house.

  I can’t pass up this opportunity to get a bit of shut eye, so I decide to be selfish and leave her to figure out what she wants to tell me and when. There will be p
lenty of time now we’re all back together again.

  I drift off to sleep to the sound of her heartbeat drumming a lullaby.

  5

  I wake up to the sound of a loud boom. It takes a second to remember my surroundings. Night time hasn’t quite fallen but it’s late enough.

  There it is again, boom, boom, boom. The earth itself shudders with each frightening decibel.

  Emma is sitting upright in the bed. Frozen in place and listening hard.

  “What is that?” she asks panicky, detecting that I’ve woken.

  “I’m not sure. Sounds like explosions,” I whisper as quietly as I can and stating the obvious.

  Whatever it is, it certainly sounds like trouble.

  “Everybody out, everybody get the fuck out of the house,” comes the roar of Shawn’s voice from elsewhere in the house.

  He means business, so without a moment’s hesitation I’m man handling Emma out of the bed and forcing her towards the bedroom door.

  We never make it however as another deafening boom bellows from right outside the house. A cascading force rips the outside wall and bedroom window asunder.

  I’m sent flying forward by the blast, and banging into Emma I take her with me.

  I must have lost consciousness briefly because now I’m in a heap on the floor, surrounded by debris. The side of the room where the bed was has practically been annihilated.

  As I’m lying here, my lungs struggle to fill themselves. My ears are ringing, meaning I can’t quite make out what Emma, who is now kneeling over me, is saying.

  She has several gashes on her face and body, but seems ok otherwise. I’m guessing my body must have shielded her from the worst of the blast.

  Our eyes form an unbreakable connection, that is, until I lose focus and everything starts going blurry.

  I don’t need proper hearing to know she’s hysterical. I suppose why she wouldn’t be. My battered body must be a grim sight. I can tell there are countless internal and external injuries.

  The pain riddling my body means I’m dying.

  I’m dying. Who could have imagined I’d go out like this?

  Strangely I’m not anxious. What’s the point, it won’t change anything. I’m strangely accepting of my fate. I never would have thought I’d be so composed, me of all people.

  What the hell happened anyhow? Was it a gas explosion? No there was more to it than that. An attack of some sort?

  My gasps for air are getting slower and shorter. My body is twitchy from misfiring nerves. My times nearly up.

  Why did I take our time together for granted? God fucking damn it!

  No point in being selfish now. I manage to muster up what I’m sure is a feeble looking smile. I try to speak but I’m unable. My eyes are getting heavy and my vision is starting to fade.

  I lip the words, “Thank you”, to her.

  It would be unfair to burden her with the words, “I love you,” despite the fact that I’m madly in love with her.

  Before my eyes close I blurrily see Shawn over her shoulder, barging into the room.

  Good he’s safe too. What weren’t you guys telling me? What happened with you?

  He knows I’m done for. It’s easy to tell. His usual cool facade is crumbling. He’s just standing there and nodding, tears streaming down his dismayed face.

  We both know they have to go now otherwise they run the risk of getting caught up in more potential blasts.

  This isn’t the time or place for sentimentality. I close my heavy eyelids.

  I won’t hold you up any longer.

  My life doesn’t race before my eyes as I’ve often heard depicted in stories of dying people who managed to come back from the brink.

  My only conscious thought is how I regret not realising sooner that life is too short to live burdened down with fears and insecurities. Life is too short and death is too permanent. That’s the kick in the teeth. If you don’t get it right the first time, there’s no second chance. I fear I’ve squandered mine and didn’t even know it.

  I feel Emma’s lips on mine, as soft as ever. The pain begins melting away to eventual numbness, as does everything else to silence, a subdued peaceful quiet.

  Hello Mum, Dad...

  To be continued...