The Integration (Part I): Still Myself, Still Surviving

by Marlin Grail

  “Don't worry,” Will says, winding his tone down, “I found a slip of paper next to it, with the codes for both the outside and inside locks written on it.”

  The whole place is dark, and only the light from mine, Will's, and Ashton's flashlights are giving off visibility. I begin delivering everyone safe assurance. “We have earned our way in here, and I believe it is safe to call this our place.” I say, finally letting myself build up to a smile.

  “Are you kidding me again?” Will asks, which destroys that growing smile of mine. “Yeah, we have beds and dressers, and sure, no one is around now, but someone, or people, have been here at some point in time. Who's to say they won't still come?”

  “Well, if that's the case, we're still not going back out there tonight.” Janice chimes in, having a yawn while she talks. “We can stay the night at least, and the fact is we're locked in—so even if people wanted to, they couldn't just sneak up on us.”

  “Screw it, I'm staying.” Lissie comments, with the sassy tone she hasn't shared at all today.

  “I know, Will. No doubt the living has resided here at some point, but there is no sign of them around, and maybe they didn't take what is in the drawer you found because it would be miscellaneous to them. Maybe they never came back from an unfortunate demise they faced. The point is, we need a place to stay tonight, so we're taking this opportunity to let it be ours.” I explain to him, determined to have him understand my position on this.

  He is quiet, but his expression insists he still is unsure. “If this backfires, then it's on you, Gary, and not us.” He tells me, already familiarizing himself with the finger he's pointed at me many times.

  I nod once again in agreement, and convert my direction to helping the group unwind. “How about we see what's in these bags?” I say with an upbeat tone. “And, how about everyone finds their bed they're going to sleep in?”

  “I counted only 4.” Ashton responds, based off of my suggestion.

  I don't need to ponder much in regards to who will sleep without a bed.

  “That's okay. I'll sleep on the ground. That makes it perfect for all of you.” I reply, while launching my hands into the bags, pulling out certain food items for us to pick from.

  “That's very kind of you.” Janice says in a happy sounding voice.

  She hands me back some food and water I've given to her that was originally offered in a large clump. She shows her graciousness through a giggle, and I return it with a seasoned-soft smile I normally utilize to show my deep appreciation for someone or something. I offer some nutrition for Lissie, who is silently claiming her bed. She walks up to me. “Thanks.” She says, giving a stiff and forced smile.

  “I'm proud of you for staying tough this whole time. Today had plenty of heated moments.” I tell her, compassionate in my tone.

  “You should tell that to everyone.” She says back to me, before going to her new bed and quietly unraveling the wrap of a candy bar.

  I can tell something's been off with her for a few days. It's something that she isn't revealing to any of us, but I won't budge for that information until, or if, she wants to share it.

  Will gets his food from the bag on his own, and calls 'dibs' for the top bed on the bunk that he and Ashton will be sharing. Janice puts one of the bags down below her and Lissie's bunk, and climbs up the small latter to reach the top bed.

  “Make sure you get good sleep tonight. We'll figure out the rest tomorrow.” I say out and open, for a response that reflects either good or bad thoughts.

  “Here.” Ashton says, mysterious in what he's referring to.

  He then throws his bed's wool blanket at me. “I'm the one with a mattress, so don't try and change my mind.”

  Good thoughts are reflecting back. It's a start.

  My lips spit out a chuckle, and I thank him for his generosity. Several minutes pass, which I let be suited for everyone to eat their meals. No real conversation comes about, and the dominant noises we hear are from the undead outside.

  “They should leave tomorrow from boredom, or something else that distracts them.” Ashton says while situating himself on his bed.

  “At least they'll make perfect drowning noise for me.” Lissie comments with fatigue in her face. “I can't sleep without something making background sound.”

  With all our weapons off of us, and our energy depleted, Ashton, Will, and I turn off our flashlights without warning, and everyone prepares to go to sleep.

  I find it a little humorous, as I situate myself on the cold floor with my blanket, and I wrap it around my body like I'm a rolled up carpet, that the undead are keeping the sound of the shelter we're in from seeming too silent, and too dead.

  Chapter V

  (Ashton)

  It must be only around 7, or 8:00pm, but I feel like the day should be later than that.

  Will above my bunk has a pouting status right now, but he seems to forget that if Gary didn't go against where we were at earlier, we wouldn't be able to sleep at ease tonight; and another thing, Will seems to have forgotten quickly that Harold flat-right discarded us all.

  Sure, I believe Gary when he tells us that this bossy, cheeky, ass that was Harold went back to wreak havoc on all of the aggressors who assaulted us, but if he even survives, he might find a way to replace the flattened tires and take the RV all for himself, because that is the kind of man I knew him to be. I got in this group roughly about 2 months ago, which was about 9 months into the apocalypse beforehand, and those 2 months had been more than enough time to know his kind of nature.

  Truth is, me and Gary were a 2-man team for the first 4 months of this new world, before we came across Janice, Lissie, Will, and Harold. We had a vehicle, a bag of guns, and the greatest, most creative, luck when we got into tough spots with undead, and aggressors—which they alone have been the most mixed bag between both categories of foes. They earned their definition as aggressors, because I've depicted them based on their decisions to attempt to steal or hurt from us.

  We didn't accept anyone into our setup, and we had many times when we were justified to lack trust in others. However, we eventually found Janice. She changed the dynamics of how Gary and I saw everyone else, but it doesn't mean our first introduction with her was the friendliest, for the 3 of us met with me holding her at gunpoint.

  She was running away from another group, which she explained, “They are full of false-hoods with their intentions, and only care about taking what they think belongs to them.” As she confessed to us both.

  We had seen women before that tried to bait us for an ambush. While I was the one quick to pull out a gun, Gary was there to defuse the situations, and, most of the time, ended with no one dying.

  I'm glad Janice doesn't hold that first interaction against me.

  It was an interesting meet when we came across Harold in his RV. It was driving down the opposite side of the road we were on. For a split second, it felt normal to me, watching it pass us by, but then I recalled we had not seen a vehicle moving of that size for a long time. Gary insisted we kept driving, and when we thought the RV wouldn't follow us, his worries became true, for it was tailing behind our car.

  Gary realized they wouldn't stop, so he feathered on the brakes, turned off the ignition, and was getting ready to pull out his side pistols. I advised Janice to stay in the car, unless one of us said it was safe. The 2 of us decided we would hold the first one that left the RV at gunpoint. Out came a middle-aged man, with a tropical shirt and cargo pants, along with a big smile on his face.

  I demanded he stayed put where he was, and he commanded someone to come out with him, and sure enough, another man carrying his side arm, and knuckle brasses curved along his fingers, walked down the entrance steps.

  Harold revealed they meant no harm, and issued that Will put down his firearm.

  Gary began asking why they were following.

  Harold laughed and said, “We haven't seen a vehicle on the road that didn't have broken windows or dented meta
l, and because you actually pulled off to interact with us—well, I find it applicable to forming a stronger, more reliable group.”

  He then offered us the chance to join him and Will in their RV, and he said it would last us much farther than our car could.

  I asked him who else is with them, and he responded with saying it had just been him and Will.

  Gary, who was Harold's focal point of interest, said if we formed an alliance, we could keep in our vehicle, and follow the 2 of them.

  Harold accepted the compromise, and said until we ran out of gas we could keep to ourselves, but that we were more than welcome to take refuge in his RV when it came time to.

  He was always so certain of the way things would turn out, often times pleased they would go in his favor. I guess when something, like today, went against his predictions, he just couldn't handle it.

  I said it would take a while, but also I shared my own extra terms that we could leave the convoy anytime we wanted.

  He said it was okay, as long as we got in front on the road to signal we were taking charge, but that we would all stay together no matter what.

  I understand why Gary accepted, for he had to make a decision that didn't involve draining more of our supplies, especially as we were very low at the time. He wanted to make the agreement go in our favor.

  Gary brought up that we were in the middle of doing a food run, and we had directions to a rest stop, which might have had a vending machine or 2.

  Harold mentioned they had food in the RV already, and he said, “Will and I should do fine with eating proper nutrition, unlike what you could get fueled off of. Don't worry though, you'll get to taste the wonders when you finally meld with your new home.”

  From the beginning, Harold was very fixated on getting us in the RV, but he seemed to respect our off-putting presumptions, as he let us go about our way, before integrating into his group. We didn't move in, until a few weeks after that first meeting. He was quite gleeful when he saw me, Gary, and Janice by his RV door. Gary's reply was, “We've figured if you 2 tried to do anything to us, then you would've had many opportunities to have done so by this point.”

  From there, we became acquainted with his mobile home. After the door swung open, the first sight to the left was that of the pristine-looking kitchen, with maple wood cabinets filled with cereals, snacks, and ingredients to make some fulfilling dinners. A dinette table existed right across the kitchen area. Further left of the RV was a queen bed, which Will inflexibly deemed his, but Harold demanded he trade beds and move up front with him, in order to let 2 out of 3 of us sleep together in that one.

  I still wanted to show my absolute apology for how I encountered Janice by letting her have the bed all to herself, but she was so forgiving, and offered I sleep next to her. Gary maintained that he would be fine sleeping in the main area of the RV—on an after-market couch. I was certainly unsure about sleeping next to her, but she at every point forced me to face that uneasiness, by wrapping her arms around my stomach as we went to sleep.

  She has shown no romantic interest with me, but, more than anything, she treats me like a child of hers—a survivalist who's killed child.

  A bathroom existed next to the queen bedroom, and at the very front of the RV was the driving quarters, which had 2 twin beds on both sides behind the seats, which is where Harold and Will slept. The arrangement Harold offered seemed genuine with good heart, but it wasn't long until his distasteful personality charred that soul of his to me.

  I'm not perfect, but Harold held the expectation for everyone to be exactly such, and if not, then there was punishment awaiting. He used to constantly poke and lecture me on having proper shrewdness, and he assumed the only reason Gary had kept me around him was because of sentiment of our past childhoods. In his own words, he said, “I see you as a parasite that feeds off the well-being of others.”

  I wanted to ding him in his wrinkled, blockish, face on more than just that occasion, but Gary would encourage me to be harmonious and be upfront with how I felt about Harold. “All he asks of us is to be honest, Ashton.”

  I know my friend looks for the optimistic parts of everyone, because he's always been extraordinary in that way, and, possibly, that is why Harold never really treated him the way he treated the rest of us.

  Gary was mature about it, but he wasn't unaffected by Harold's offensive ways. I actually think all of us were pleased to take every opening possible to get out of the RV. For me, it involved going on scavenging missions with Gary. Even Janice, who was similar to Gary when it came to being compassionate and understanding, would go outside to try and catch us some food to eat—but I believe she just wanted to get away from Harold's incessant yelling and intimidating presence.

  Will and I never really spoke to one another, but every now and then we would catch eyes, and all we would do was transfer blank stares. I know Will didn't receive greater treatment from the rest of us with Harold, because I would hear barking come from the driving seat, and the passenger side was very complacent and submissive.

  It was about a month later that Harold spotted a woman walking along the road, bold to not be hidden, and she would come to be known as Lissie. Harold came out on his own, and, like he behaved around us the first time, he was being friendly and charismatic. However, uninfluenced by his charm, she pulled out a gun and cocked it, but before she could fire, Gary hurried himself out and pleaded she not take their lives, now that the gun had been pointed at him.

  I watched the whole occurrence happen through the window, over the couch Gary was sleeping on. I heard all of the muffled sounds of conversation. I was tense throughout the whole time—knowing myself enough that I couldn't just sit in anticipation as my friend could have potentially been killed right then and there. Gary is, and has been, my closest friend, and I consider him more than a friend at that.

  I remember him way before he became a musician. I recall the thin, circular outlined glasses he used to wear, with his short hair, and small framed body. We used to play medieval board games in his parent's basement, and we watched cartoons that had clear depictions of heroes and villains. We would take some of his home's broomsticks, imagine them as swords, and go on his driveway to reenact a fight scene we saw on television.

  The household I grew up in was larger in size, and represented more money than he had, but my family was more distant from each other. My dad left me and my sister young, and my mom struggled to be there for us, both physically and emotionally. There were many days after school where I would just go with Gary and spend the night at his home until we had to go to school the next day.

  When we each hit about 15, I went away for a while to live with some people, and I hopped around for a few years, until I saw, at the age of only 19, Gary had become lead singer of a rock band, and was performing at a small venue in California.

  When he saw me in the audience, he seemed to become more aggressive than before with his performance, which created more excitement in the crowd. After the show though, he came at me with a warm smile and greeting hug.

  I knew he was angry, and he had right to be, with my disappearance from his life for several years, but that's always been what he's done—put the face and composure he thinks everyone expects of him. He did it back then, and he still does it.

  I watched him through the window, seeing him convince Lissie to give the group a try, which he was able to accomplish, but she probably had to prove what she's capable of. She fired 1 shot past them all, which made Janice and me get startled.

  From the beginning, I knew, based off of her feisty attitude, Lissie was not going to accept the group—let alone deal with all that was Harold without stirring conflict. I could tell Gary respected her though. That first night she was in the RV, he offered she take the couch he was sleeping on, while he would sleep on the floor.

  I suppose that's why I'm not too taken aback he's doing it again tonight.

  However, though he can give good first impressions, he can someti
mes make things worse for himself later with others, even when he's trying not to, like his first clash with Lissie. We were discussing the run we were preparing for, which turned out to be the last before the RV's ambush. We were sited across each other on the dinette table, and she waltzed her way over to kid our silent conversation, asking, “Are you both talking about how you will rape us over the night, and take the belongings?”

  Gary said he was sorry.

  She asked him why, and he explained he didn't know much about her, but if anyone joked about something like that, then it could be because they know an experience of personal violation themselves.

  She seemed dazed from him saying it, and I could tell Gary recognized this woman as one who had trust issues—for she's vulnerable to some extent, and definitely was afraid to show it back then. This insight of his is a gift, but became a curse that day with her, because I could see the out-pour of rage she wanted to unload on him, literally.

  He told her they could talk about it later.

  “Why the holy hell would I want to talk to an assuming, judgmental, prick such as you?!” she blurted out to him.

  He walked away, gearing himself up, saying for her sake to learn to be honest with others around here, otherwise it would bite back hard.

  I saw he was subtly letting her know how to not be exposed to Harold's discourteous and unfair leveraging, as hard as I faced it, or others did. She wanted to rush on Gary, but I got myself up to halt her tracks, defending that he meant the best with what he said.

  She raised her concealed mouth, which created little indentations of muscles on her chin, but in the end stormed off to the queen bedroom where Janice was.

  “You could have said something less hurtful, Gary. You don't know what it's been like for most of us.” I said to him, throwing myself in with that statement.