Love in the Time of Zombies

by James, Jill

  I turned my view to the sky when the wrapped bundle turned black. The smoke rose and blew away in a small breeze.

  “Good-bye Nick.”

  ♦♦♦

  An hour later, two trucks pulled into the parking lot, and men and women jumped out. In short order, all was cleared. The dead and undead alike were piled up and incinerated. The only way we could ever be sure. Burying left the worry of contaminating the water table, not to mention the fear of missing even one of the reanimated. As it was, we were probably polluting the air we breathed. Not many choices left.

  Part of the team had climbed to the roof and organized the supplies to take with us; they wouldn’t be needed here for the foreseeable future. Maybe never. The location wasn’t secure and twenty-five people paid for that mistake. Twenty-six including Nick. The commander’s voice over the walkie-talkies ordered the buildings demolished. A man named Paul Luther grabbed a crate out of the truck. He’d been a demolition expert in the army with the commander. The army left us with enough C-4 to blow up the whole town, or so I’d heard.

  “Fire in the hole.”

  I ducked down behind a truck. The noise of the blast ricocheted across the silent town like a sonic boom in the desert. Dust clouded the parking lot, and moans started up across the road. Jumping up, I glanced quickly at the collapsed front of the old supermarket. No one would be able to use the death trap again. By winter, with the rain, the store would just fall in upon itself.

  Moans grew louder as a horde shuffled and stumbled into the parking lot. We got off a few shots until Paul ordered us into the trucks to fall back. A couple of men stood behind the vehicles with flamethrowers. They covered a few in flames and their sloppy running around did the job of igniting the rest. Flamethrowers were designed to take out live people, as sick a thought as that may be. Zombies are dead. You can’t cremate with a flamethrower, just kind of melt them all together, and then go in and do mercy shots. Yes, it was as gross as it sounded. Thank God, I hadn’t had time for breakfast.

  Moving in to finish them off, I bumped into Seth. The firelight coated his olive skin. His eyes narrowed as he shot each undead in the head. I did my share, saying I’m sorry in my thoughts, something I hadn’t done in months.

  We stepped back as the moans died to nothing. Seth grabbed into his shirt and pulled out a crucifix. He kissed it and closed his eyes in prayer. I whipped my head around, making sure nothing got the man while his eyes were closed. I wanted to roll my eyes at his stupidity but something stopped me. Something I hadn’t felt in... in forever, remorse. When did I lose my empathy? When had I forgotten these things had been people? That they hadn’t asked for any of this, anymore than I had.

  Paul held his hand up for silence. Nothing filled the air except for the wind and the crackle of fire consuming flesh. I heaved a sigh. I was too worn-out to do more killing of zombies today. Everyone talked in whispered tones as they climbed into the trucks.

  “You can ride with me,” Seth said, standing at my elbow.

  “Thanks, I would like that.” Really, I would. I needed silence right now. I needed to rehearse in my head what I would say to Nick’s girlfriend, Beth. I reached for the box in my pocket. It weighed a thousand pounds sitting there.

  We climbed inside and Seth started the truck. He put it into reverse and backed up. Silence filled my ears.

  “Shouldn’t you have that annoying beep, beep, beep sound for backing up?”

  He grinned. “Yeah, real annoying when it attracted the undead, too. I disabled it.”

  With a big sweep of the steering wheel, we turned around and got behind the trucks from the base. We moved slowly out of the shopping center and stopped in the middle of the road. The riders in the back of the trucks jumped down and used knives, machetes, and crossbows to take out a few stragglers. Looking at the shopping center across the road I was sure we’d be back to demolish that one too. The center was too open to protect. Not for the first time I noted this had been a quaint town before the Z. The kind with 2.2 kids and a picket fence.

  Seth seemed to read my mood. No more words were said on the trip back to The Streets of Brentwood. I practiced a dozen ways to tell Beth her boyfriend was gone and all the words just died in my mind as too callous to speak. My fingers rubbed the box in my pocket. My heart stuttered to a stop. I looked up, and we were almost there, leaving the Bypass and turning onto the road the Streets sat on.

  “Should I give her the ring or not? Maybe it will hurt more to know he was going to give it to her. Maybe it will help to know he had it for her. I suck at this heart stuff. I have nothing to measure it against.”

  Seth turned to look at me, his hazel eyes bright and shiny. “Give it to her. It’s all she has left.”

  “Thanks,” I said, swallowing hard.

  The process to get inside took forever and no time at all. We drove the circle until Seth pulled up in front of the old movie theater. A young girl rushed out of the building, her legs pumping and arms swinging. Her head whipped back and forth between the trucks until her gaze locked on mine.

  I took a deep breath and hopped down from the vehicle. “Beth, I’m—,”

  Slap.

  I hadn’t even see it coming until my head snapped back. Seth stepped forward but I put up my hand to stop him.

  “You bitch! You got him killed. He trusted you to have his back. I told him Miss Big Bucks wouldn’t protect him.”

  She started to fall, but her father rushed forward and grabbed her limp body. He squatted, his daughter cradled in his arms. Beth’s eyes fluttered open and filled with tears. My vision blurred as my own tears fell down my face. Nick had been my friend, a good friend, but to Beth he’d been so much more.

  “What happened?” Beth’s words whispered in the air between us.

  “He got bitten. The bite was so little, we thought he had a chance. But the fever came and he died. We—we didn’t let him turn.”

  She sat up. “Did you—?”

  “No,” I said, turning to Seth. “He did it.”

  Seth nodded. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the little velvet box and handed it to Beth. “I haven’t seen it but Nick talked about it a lot when we were out on patrol. This was meant to be yours.”

  My nose burned holding back more tears. Beth’s own poured freely down her face as her trembling fingers opened the box and took out a beautiful sapphire ring.

  “Put it on, sweetheart,” her father said. “It’s yours.”

  The young girl slid it on her ring finger and stared at it. “Oh, Nick.” Her voice cracked as she huddled into a ball and screamed her boyfriend’s name over and over. Her words becoming muddled and meaningless and hoarse as her voice died.

  I couldn’t take anymore. Jumping to my feet, I strode away toward the gardens. Faster and faster. Until I was running. I couldn’t run far enough or fast enough to escape Nick’s death. Falling onto a bench, I hung my head to let all the tears I’d been holding back fall. Great sobs came, leaving me with dry heaves and every bone in my body hurting. Why? Why now? I’d seen more death in the past six months than I’d seen in my whole life. I hadn’t cried when Carl died. I hadn’t cried when my parents were killed, I’d been too scared and on the run for my life. I’d cried a little in the first days here as someone was taken down by the skinbags or died of something that just weeks before would have been taken care of with a trip to the doctor. But this. This hurt to my soul. Nick had been a child. A child forced to be a man before his time. And now his time was over.

  “Are you okay?” Seth’s calm voice spoke behind me.

  I scrubbed my face with my hands. “Do you have a big family?”

  He raised an eyebrow, as if lost by my random tangent. “I have lots of cousins and aunts and uncles. At least, I did. Don’t know right now. But yes, a big family.”

  “I had a mom and a dad. Then I got married and had Carl and his parents. I had a few friends, for events and stuff, none just to be a friend. No one close. Nick was like a little broth
er. It’s like I’ve lost a part of me. I feel as if I should have done something more. Moved faster. Been closer. Something.”

  He took my hand. “We all feel like that. It’s a game of what if that you can’t win. What if the Z virus never came? What if the dead didn’t rise again? What is I shot faster, sooner, more? We all just do the best we can and leave the rest to God.”

  “God?” I jerked my hand away. “You’ve got to be kidding me. If this is God’s answer, then I really want to know what the fuck the question was.”

  Chapter Six

  All is wrong with a world where the dead don’t rest.

  All is right with a world with a graceful woman beheld.

  It is wrong to blame God for men’s mistakes.

  It is right to ask God to right men’s errors.

  — Seth Ripley

  By the time dusk fell, fires sprang up in trashcans evenly spaced the length of the mall. Small puddles of glowing red and yellow highlighted the overwhelming darkness of no light pollution. More than two hundred people gathered to remember Nick Cruz. Commander Canida stood in front of the theater with Beth and her father, Jim Evans. They were the closest thing to family that Nick had. He’d lost everyone to the virus and the flu before.

  Silence filled the area except for a few crying babies. The crowd stood with bowed heads as Canida told all of Nick’s sacrifice. Beth’s sobs rolled over the group.

  I bowed my head but I refused to pray to a God I no longer believed in. The God of my childhood didn’t bring us zombies and he didn’t seem to be rescuing us from them either. The commander’s words were just mumbles in my head as my own memories of Nick played across my mind. The tales of playing football in this small town, of his family and friends before the world went to hell. His telling of the legends of a local bandit and hidden caves. I smiled at the remembrance of my friend’s stories of playing Joaquin Murietta and of a little brother being the law officer to catch the bad guy, trapped in his cave hideout. His stories brought this middle of nowhere town to life for me.

  A warm hand settled on my shoulder. I jumped and opened my eyes. Seth stood beside me, his arm across my shoulders. Snuggling in closer, I caught Canida’s last words, as he raised a cup.

  “Live life to the fullest. We all only have today. Raise your glass for all those lost at the Safeway Center. Raise it for Nick.”

  “For Nick,” murmured from hundreds of throats. “For today.”

  The crowd broke up and several women went to Beth with soft, whispered words. The young girl stood taller and her tears dried up. The girl became a woman before my eyes. A woman who’d lost her man. Childhood washed away in an instant. The pain of it ripped across me. I moved away from Seth and stood in line to try to say something that didn’t sound trite and overused. I’m sorry seemed meaningless as it always has. Just words, but I used them anyway.

  “Beth, I’m so sorry. Nick was my friend. If you need anything. Anything at all.”

  Her smile broke my heart. As if the earlier yelling had purged her anger. “Emily, Nick talked about you all the time. You were his friend too. I’m so sorry. I know you had Nick’s back just like he had yours.”

  She rubbed her stomach. “I’ve told my father, so it’s okay to tell you. I’m having Nick’s baby.”

  My mouth dropped open. Her smile fell at seeing what I’m sure was disbelief and condemnation on my face. “That’s wonderful news, Beth. I’m so happy for you.” The lies died on my tongue. The words refused to continue.

  “Thank you, Emily,” Beth’s voice lost its happy tone.

  I moved on, at a loss for words. Beth was sixteen and alone. Well, not totally, she had her father and the community here. A baby who would be a remembrance of Nick. A helpless baby, in the middle of hell on Earth.

  Music started up in the center of the green, grassy swath in the middle of the mall. A guitar and banjo softly played Nick’s favorite song; the one about a boy and a girl and young love. Beth took her father’s hand and they slowly swayed to the soft melody. He bowed his head over her and she pulled herself tight into his chest.

  Seth held out a hand. I grabbed it and pulled him to the impromptu dance floor of plywood sheets. The music struck a chord deep inside. I’d never had a young love. The commander’s words echoed in my head. We only had today, tomorrow might never come. We had no guarantees, not anymore; if we’d imagined we had them before, it had all been a lie. It’d taken the zombie apocalypse to make me see that the future was an ethereal dream of impossibility.

  Dance after dance flew by. Seth’s arms held me gently as a slow song started. I looked up into eyes shining in the moonlight and with something else—passion. His fingers caressed my back as we moved around the other couples, tingle running up and down my spine. The area was packed with people, the only ones missing were the guards on the rooftops, and someone would spell them later so they could enjoy some food and company.

  Overwhelmed with the mass of people, I pulled away and fell into a chair. My ears were humming with the buzz of the crowd. I was divided. One part of me loved the festivity, the celebration of Nick’s life. But the other part wanted to find a corner to hide in and cry. To mourn the loss of a young boy forced to be a man too soon, to die too soon.

  The music’s tempo changed to a fast-paced country song. I looked up and spotted Seth line-dancing with Michelle. Even with the lack of a future to worry about, I don’t make split-second decisions. So why did I know right then where I wanted the evening to end. With my body wrapped around Seth’s in hot, passionate, sweaty, sex. My heart raced a million miles a second. If I could organize a gala event for hundreds at a moment’s notice, surely I could find some privacy for Seth and me for one evening.

  My body sparked with electricity at the thought of Seth, privacy, and more. His eyes had said he would accept my invitation. Jumping up, I marched over to Mrs. Roberts.

  “Bobbie, I need a tent for tonight. Please tell me they aren’t all parceled out.” I crossed my fingers behind my back.

  “Sweetie,” she said as she touched my arm. “For you, I’ll find one.” Her glance shot to Seth. “If anyone deserves tall, dark, and handsome over there, it’s you.”

  My face heated up and I thanked the darkness for hiding it. Mrs. Roberts had known me in our former lives. She’d been a shoulder to cry on many of times.

  She pulled a notebook out of her pocket. “Looks like I’ve got a few left. I’ll have a couple of boys set one up in your spot.”

  “Thank you so much.” I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed tight. I didn’t have my mother anymore, but Mrs. Roberts was an excellent grandmother-surrogate.

  Thirty minutes later, the older woman pushed through the crowd to my side. She reached out and squeezed my arm. “All taken care of. You have a good evening.” She glanced over across the picnic table to Seth. “Hmmm, a very good evening.”

  Like a whirlwind, she and Michelle faded into the shrinking crowd. A few dancers still slow-danced in the middle of the Green, but couples and families headed toward bed. My breath caught. Where I wanted to be with Seth. How do you ask a man to come to your room, even if it is just a tent? Carl had been the cheater, going from affair to affair. I’d never even looked at another man, even once I knew about the infidelity.

  I took a deep breath. “Seth, I know we’ve just met. But, I don’t want you to leave yet.” I stuttered to a stop. I sounded as if I was sixteen, instead of almost thirty.

  He blushed. Did adult men do that? He looked deep into my eyes and I fell... hard.

  “Emily, I would love to stay.” His deep voice sent a thrill down my spine and heat to places that hadn’t had any heat in a while. A long while.

  Seth stood up, grasped my hand, and pulled me tight against his warm body. His lips brushed over mine and a fire roared in my blood. I closed my eyes and breathed in his male scent mixed with rich homemade beer. His skin was warm and musky from dancing.

  A whisker-stubble cheek slid along my face, as he whispere
d into my ear. “Lead the way.”

  He pulled back slightly and I pointed out the southwest corner of the compound and the breakaway stairs in the center of the building section. “Up there, with the clotheslines.”

  His arm went around my shoulders as we walked toward the stairs. “Last time I was here, it was all rope ladders and crate pulleys,” he whispered.

  “We have a lot of kids now. Lots of little ones. Canida ordered steps built. They just push away from the building and fall over if we got overrun.”

  The steps swayed slightly as we walked to the rooftop. I pulled Seth over to the corner where a tent occupied the usual place of my cot and a tarp I’d fashioned into a lean-to with the help of the pole for the clothesline. Bending down, I moved inside and gasped. My cot was pushed against a canvas wall, with my stuff piled on top. In the middle of the tent was a mattress.

  If my face heated any hotter, I would implode. The boys who set up the tent had to have known why I wanted a mattress. Seth bumped into me as he came through the doorway. As I fell I grabbed a hold of him and we both landed on the soft surface. I moaned. I’d forgotten how soft a real bed could be.

  “Let me zip up the door,” he whispered with a quick kiss on my lips, tasting hot and sweet. Too quick. I wanted more. I fed on his lips. His kisses grew blistering. Heat pooled between my thighs. I wanted him now.

  Seth moved away and the sound of the zipper on the tent filled the space. The silence filled me with doubts. What was I doing? My friend died today. This was wrong.

  Looking up, I saw the same doubts in Seth’s eyes. I bit my lip and started to talk. “I’m—“

  He sat beside me on the mattress, his arm going around my shoulders. “We don’t have to do this. I’m not an animal in need of sex.”

  I giggled. I couldn’t help it. His warm body and eyes full of life and kindness was the furthest thing from the renegades we’d heard about. The rumors of men roaming the wasteland, taking what and who they wanted swirled through the camp weekly.