by Kate L. Mary
I wiped the sweat away in annoyance, and the feel of my sticky skin, gritty with dirt, made me cringe. A shower sounded like heaven right about now.
It took me less than a minute to put in the combination to the padlock. I twisted the chain free and shoved the gate open, waving for Kellan to drive through. He revved the engine to let me know he was going and sped past, covering me in a puff of dirt. I closed my eyes and covered my mouth, waiting a second for the dust cloud to dissipate so I could replace the lock.
Inside the fence, Kellan had already parked next to the truck and was climbing out of the car. “Hurry up!”
I waved my hand in front of my face in hopes of hurrying the dirt away, but still coughed when I opened my mouth to respond. Since getting words out was temporarily impossible, I lifted my hand high above my head and extended my middle finger.
Kellan let out a low chuckle.
“Thinks he’s so funny,” I muttered as I secured the gate.
When I turned, he was already unpacking the car. Kellan’s arms were full, loaded down with the things we’d brought back from the settlement, when the door to the cement building at his back opened.
Cade stepped out a moment later, his blond hair shimmering under the evening sun as he lifted his hand to his forehead to shield his eyes. “Welcome back!”
Kellan bumped his hip against the open door, and it shut with a thud. “Damn, it’s good to be home. I need a shower.”
A soft laugh floated out of the shelter moments before Emma came into view, her wavy brown hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun. She had a bucket in each hand, and water sloshed out with every step she took, splattering against the dry ground at her feet where it would no doubt evaporate well before the sun-scorched earth had a chance to suck it up.
Cade turned like he was going to take the bucket from her, but Emma didn’t let him, nodding toward the car instead. “Help Kellan.”
“What kind of man would I be if I left you to drag heavy buckets outside all by yourself?” Cade asked, grinning down at her.
“The kind who listens,” Emma shot back.
“I’ll help.” I jogged back to the car, ducking in through the open window so I could retrieve my bag.
By the time it was slung over my shoulder, Emma had already headed off. Cade watched her go, a grin on his face and his blue eyes twinkling, and a pang of jealousy shot through me. My own gaze shifted to Kellan, but he wasn’t paying the least bit of attention to me. He was too busy trying to hand off some of the things he was carrying to Cade, who was too focused on Emma’s ass to notice.
“I thought you were going to help me,” Kellan grumbled.
Cade chuckled and said something in response, but I’d already hurried after Emma and didn’t hear it. When I reached her side, I eased one of the buckets from her hand, and she let out a sigh.
“Thanks.” A few strands of her brown hair had escaped the bun on her head, and she shot me a grin as she shoved them out of her face. “How was Altus?”
“Depressing.”
I shrugged and immediately regretted it when water sloshed across my pant leg. It was cool and refreshing, but if I spilled too much I’d have to make a second trip, and like Kellan, I was ready to get inside so I could take a shower.
The sun glinted off the ten-foot chain link fence that surrounded the outbuildings, and the goats bleated at our approach. Their shelter wasn’t fenced in, giving them plenty of space to roam, but the chickens, rabbits, and ducks were encased in pens Jasper had built nine years ago when this all started. The birds squawked and flapped their wings at our approach, while the rabbits hopped toward the fence. The ruckus threw up even more dust than what was currently being carried on the wind. I paused, blinking when dirt stung at my eyes, and then lifted my face so I could study the distant horizon. It seemed unnaturally dark, like maybe a storm was on the way, and the wind turbine that stood outside our fence seemed to be working twice as hard as it had the day before. Maybe we’d get lucky and it would rain.
Emma dumped her bucket of water into the half-full trough set up for the goats then peered off to where I had been looking only a moment ago. “It could rain.”
“Doubtful.” I dumped my bucket, and the goats came running. “Even if a storm does hit, it will probably be short and violent.”
“Seems like that’s all we get anymore,” Emma said in agreement.
I smoothed a few loose strands of hair back when they tickled my nose, still staring at the darkness that would no doubt spread until it had engulfed every inch of the sky. Storms were a part of life in Oklahoma, especially in the spring, but over the last few years they’d gotten shorter and shorter. We were lucky these days if we got half an inch of rain, something I knew Jasper was worried about, even if he wouldn’t say it out loud.
“The lake is going to dry up at this rate,” I said.
It was already low. We hadn’t been to Lake Altus in a few months, not since we’d decided to trade at the settlement up there, but the last time we’d headed that way, I’d been shocked by how empty the lake had gotten. The ground had been littered with rotting fish, and the remains of the town that had at one time existed on that stretch of land had been visible. The official name for the lake was Lake Altus-Lugert, named for the town of Lugert that had long ago been covered up when the man-made body of water was created, but I’d never seen the remnants until that day. It had scared me, seeing how dry everything had gotten. We’d been living a pretty cushy life, considering a lot of the world had gone back to the stone age, but even we would be affected if the water dried up.
Of course, having been around a lot longer than the rest of us, Jasper was always quick to reassure everyone that this was the natural progression of things in Oklahoma. Droughts happened, things got bad, but nature always corrected itself. I tended to believe he knew what he was talking about. Although I’d been young, I could still remember the last drought to hit the state. It had ended shortly before the apocalypse in the form of the wettest spring the state had ever seen. What had started out as a blessing after years of drought had quickly turned bad. There had been tornadoes, hail as big as golf balls in some areas, and even widespread flooding that had left more than a dozen people dead. The lake had gone from twenty-eight feet below the normal level to a hundred percent full in a little over a month. Hopefully, Mother Nature didn’t give us a repeat performance when she finally decided to fix things.
“Do you know how full our water reserves are?” I asked Emma, still staring at the darkness in the distance.
She shook her head as she pried my now empty bucket from my hand, placing it inside the one she was holding. “I don’t know how to check. Jasper showed us a lot when Blake and I first got here, but there are some things, like the water reserves, that he likes to keep to himself.”
“Cade knows, doesn’t he?”
“He’s as tightlipped about it as Jasper is.” She shrugged as she turned back toward the small building Cade and Kellan had already disappeared into. “He doesn’t want to panic people, probably.”
“Aren’t there ways you can get it out of him?” I wiggled my eyebrows.
Emma gave me a fake look of outrage and disappointment. “I would never stoop to something so low.”
“Right,” I muttered, earning me a grin.
I followed Emma into the small cement building. The door, which was usually closed tight, had been left open since Cade and Kellan had just gone inside, meaning we didn’t have to pause to put the code in the way we usually did. Emma descended the stairs in front of me, carrying the now empty buckets, while I pulled the door shut before heading after her. Lights lined the ceiling, illuminating the stairwell with their soft glow and making it possible for us to see where we were going while the metallic thud of our footsteps bounced off the cement walls and echoed around us. The further down we went, the cooler the air became.
The first level was industrial, the walls made of simple cement blocks and the ceiling above us un
finished, lined with steel beams, exposed wires, and pipes. Blake glanced our way when we passed the control room. His gaze focused on me, and he gave a half-hearted wave before turning back to face the wall of monitors. It was covered with buttons and blinking lights, and lined with screens. The entire surface level was visible from where he sat thanks to the six adjustable cameras that kept a constant eye on the world beyond our walls.
Emma and I didn’t talk as we headed deeper into the shelter, going down one more set of stairs before reaching the media center. The now useless computers had been pushed aside, shoved against the wall to make room for our weapons. The technology in this room had been state of the art when the shelter was built, but now it was covered in dust. The first year or so after the outbreak, the desire to turn one of the computers on and pull up YouTube or play some online game had been constant, but I barely noticed them these days. Of all the things I missed about the old world, the Internet was pretty low on my list.
Emma stopped when we reached the next room. Cade was leaning against the bar, which after nine years was now desperately in need of restocking. He pushed off the counter when he saw her and grinned, and she returned the gesture as she stopped in front of him and planted a kiss on his cheek. He grabbed her hips and leaned down, saying something in her ear I couldn’t hear.
Wanting a shower and having no desire to interrupt their time together, I kept walking, passing the pool table and sitting area. The couches were still cushy and comfortable even after all these years, although they were starting to look more than a little worn and sported more than a few stains. Just past the sitting area was a small theater where every now and then we’d hang out, watching movies that took place in a world long gone but not yet forgotten. We had a decent library, but after nine years we’d seen every one of those movies dozens of times.
Everything in the shelter had been sleek and modern back when we’d taken up residence here, decorated in bright reds and blues that had probably been intended to combat the gloom of living underground, and being back filled with me a deep sense of calm. After all these years, the shelter felt more like home than anything else I could remember.
The second my feet hit the top stair I moved faster, jogging down to the next level, which doubled as a clinic and a classroom. We’d used the school supplies a lot in the beginning, but not anymore. The kids—myself included—were all grown up or gone now, although I couldn’t help thinking that one day we might have a need for those dusty old school books again. Emma and Cade hadn’t been together for long, but things with them already seemed more settled than they ever had when she was with Blake. It wasn’t unreasonable to think they might one day have a family. A part of me even expected it, and I knew I wasn’t alone.
I moved deeper into the shelter, bypassing levels three and four before stopping at level five. The living quarters went all the way down to level eleven, but we only took up three of the floors. In the beginning, back when there were more of us, we’d been more spread out, but a few years had passed since we’d all moved to these three levels. Life in the apocalypse was hard, and we’d lost more than our fair share of people over the years. To zombies, illness, and even other people.
When I reached the door to my condo, I paused and glanced over my shoulder at the door across the hall. It was shut, but I knew Kellan was in there, no doubt climbing into the shower to wash the grime from his body just like I was about to. My hand wrapped around the doorknob in front of me while my gaze lingered on the condo at my back, and I was still staring at it when I turned the knob and pushed the door open. My heart thumped and my stomach tingled as I stepped into the living room, shutting the door behind me. These feelings were so foreign and yet so familiar at the same time, because lately it seemed to be all my body could do when I was around Kellan. Or sometimes, like now, I didn’t even have to be around him. All I had to do was think about him and my insides went crazy. It made no sense. Kellan and I had known one another for as long as I could remember, and we’d been living side by side for nine years now. Yet these feelings had popped up out of nowhere last summer, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to make them go away.
I flipped the wall switch, and light flooded the living room. The plush carpet was soft under my feet as I padded forward, pulling things off as I went. I kicked my boots aside and tossed my bag on the couch. It bounced once on the thick beige cushion and almost toppled to the floor, but ended up coming to rest right on the edge. My goggles, which were propped up on the top of my head, followed, only they did bounce a little too hard and ended up on the floor. I ignored them.
I continued past the once modern kitchen, complete with stainless steel appliances and granite countertops, and headed down the hall, pulling my grungy t-shirt over my head. Just like the pants I wore, the shirt was stained and shabby, and even had a few holes in the seams of the neckline. It was also in desperate need of a wash, but that wasn’t going to happen. That would ruin the façade we liked to put on when we went out. Nothing would draw attention our way faster than showing up at the market in clean clothes. Not even the apple I had foolishly taken with me yesterday.
In the bathroom, I flipped on the shower, turning the hot water up as high as it would go before wiggling out of my pants. While I waited for it to get warm, I freed my hair from its ponytail, allowing the long tendrils to fall free, and ran my fingers through them. My hair was not only a tangled mess, but it was also grimy to the touch. I hadn’t showered before we left yesterday—the hotel in the settlement had no shower—and the greasy feel of my unwashed hair made me cringe. Nine years into the zombie apocalypse and we were probably the only people in the world who weren’t used to being dirty. We may have run out of food from the old-world years ago, resulting in more than a couple days of going to bed with growling stomachs, but we’d never wanted for luxuries like hot water and electricity. Thanks to the wind turbine and the solar panels Jasper had installed, those things were easy to come by.
Assuming the drought let up and we didn’t run out of water.
It was sheer luck that I’d ended up here, or fate if you asked Maggie—back when she’d been around to ask—and a day hadn’t passed that I didn’t thank my lucky stars Jasper found Kellan and me. Who knew what would have become of us if he hadn’t? Most likely, we would have died.
7
Once I was showered and dressed in clean clothes, I took a few minutes to straighten up my condo. In the laundry room, I hung up the clothes I’d just changed out of even though they wouldn’t be getting washed, not wanting them anywhere near the things I actually wore on a daily basis, and then tossed a load of everyday clothes into the open and waiting washing machine.
I was in the middle of adding some homemade detergent when a spark of a memory came back, taking my breath away and making me freeze.
It was faint, but present, the image of my mother doing this very same thing years ago. I could picture the soft yellow walls of the laundry room, could see her push her wavy brown hair back out of her face as she reached for the white bottle on the shelf above the washer. She was humming a trendy song, its beat rising and falling at a tempo that was as fast as the pounding of my heart as her hips swayed to the same beat.
A familiar ache surged through me that was as old as the apocalypse and just as persistent, and I found myself leaning against the washing machine like it was the only thing holding me up. I pressed my hand to my chest, right over my heart, but the pain didn’t fade, and other memories quickly followed the one of my mother. Dad’s laugh, which had boomed through the house and shaken his entire body. Matt complaining when I insisted on following him and his friends—Kellan especially—everywhere, but later threatening to beat up a neighborhood kid who was picking on me. Images of friends who were now long gone followed, along with memories of teachers and neighbors, all of which were dead but possibly still wandering the countryside as reanimated corpses.
That was the hardest part of all this, knowing the people I
remembered from my past could still be out there. For the first few years of the apocalypse I’d been terrified that one day a zombie would wander up to our fence and I’d be confronted with the decaying face of someone I had known. It had kept me awake at times, had haunted my dreams. I was no longer worried about that—even if my mom’s corpse did stagger toward me, I doubted I would recognize her—but the knowledge that they might be out there still hurt.
The pang hadn’t faded completely, but I forced myself to move. I started the washing machine and flipped off the lights, and then hurried out of my condo in search of someone else, not wanting to be alone with the memories. In the hall, I paused briefly outside Kellan’s door, but thought better of knocking. He and I had shared mutual acquaintances, and he was the only one here who’d actually known my family, but just the idea of talking to him about it made the pang inside me intensify.
Instead I went up, jogging past the fourth and third floors without slowing, and then past number two so I could make my way back to the common area. Voices floated down the stairwell before I reached it, and I moved faster, anxious to be with other people. I burst into the room to find Cade and Emma still at the bar, talking and laughing, and Jasper sitting on the couch. The very sight of them helped ease the pain in my chest. This was my family now. It was a different kind of family, but no less important to me than the one I’d had before.
I headed Jasper’s way, and when I got closer, he looked up from the notebook that sat open in front of him, dog-eared and worn with age, and smiled.