by Ariel Bonin
When the group began to disperse, Lindsey said to Andrew, "I'll take Jacob inside, get him changed and fed."
He suddenly remembered that his son's formula, clothes and extra diapers had remained in the Ford.
Thank goodness for small miracles.
The man gave her an appreciative smile as he replied, "Thank you. Zoey and I will be right along after we check out the house."
_____
Lindsey laid out a blanket on one of the pews and changed the infant's wet diaper with practiced efficiency. She was becoming quite good at completing that particular task, even if it wasn't one of her favorites. Next, she changed Jacob out of his white onesie and blue pants, and into polka-dot footed pajamas. It wasn't bedtime yet, but Lindsey thought it best to have him changed just in case he fell asleep early.
Charlie came in a moment later with two large containers of water from the well. Lindsey poured some into a baby bottle—the only one they had left—and mixed in the proper amount of formula. Before Lindsey could sit down with Jacob in one of the stiff pews, Charlie motioned for her to check out something in the corner.
"Over here," he said, turning his back to her briefly.
When she reached the man, he stepped away, revealing a padded rocking chair most likely reserved for one of the elderly church-goers—but perfect for this very moment. Charlie adjusted the cushions a tad and then let Lindsey sit down. She began to rock Jacob as the boy held the bottle to his lips.
After Lindsey thanked him, Charlie said, "I'm sorry 'bout today…on the bike. I asked you to come with me. It was selfish. I could've gotten you killed..."
"Stop," Lindsey whispered, pain flashing in her eyes. "It was ultimately my choice and I wanted to go with you. You had to dump the bike, but made sure that I was off it first. That was really admirable of you."
Charlie scoffed at her choice of words, but she just ignored him.
"So don't apologize to me. You have nothing to be sorry for."
"That's a load of shit and you know it," he said. Lindsey could plainly hear the anguish in his rough voice. "When we had to make that detour, she wanted to ride with me, but I didn't think it would be safe. I pushed her away…and set her up to die."
"You couldn't have known," Lindsey stated with a slight waver. Tears loomed, but she held them back. Giving in to her guilt, she finally admitted what had been on her mind for the past twenty-four hours. "You and I both know that should've been me. She offered to drive, but I said I would. I'm not supposed to be here, Charlie!" she hissed. "How many times can one person cheat death? It's not fair—"
"I'll tell you what's not fair," Charlie murmured. "Watching my man Andrew lose his wife and try to keep it together while raisin' two kids in the damn apocalypse. I ain't gonna watch him lose you, too. So fuck what's 'fair.' You're here for a reason, Linds. Quit questionin' it."
The man almost sounded mad, but she knew it was in fact the opposite. He cared about her and Andrew and their future, perhaps more so than his own.
Now that's admirable.
Charlie threw her one last look, which she could only describe as a combination of loving and fearful. It touched her deeply. Then he turned and sauntered out of the chapel, causing nearby candles to flicker as he moved past.
Chapter 13
Lindsey was just thinking about how much she'd like to change into some clean clothes when Zoey and Andrew appeared in the chapel. They each carried a large box of supplies that they'd scavenged from the house across the street. As they were setting everything down, Lindsey placed Jacob on his green elephant blanket, which was spread out on the wooden floor. A few plastic communion cups were on a table nearby, so Lindsey gave them to the infant to play with.
Zoey spotted Lindsey and reached into her box. She held what looked like a dark piece of cloth and smiled. "I found something for you."
"Oh yeah?" Lindsey asked with noticeable curiosity.
The girl nodded. "Close your eyes and hold out your hands."
Lindsey squeezed her eyes shut, getting a kick out of how her own mother used to make her do the same thing whenever she was on the receiving end of a surprise. Holding out her open hands, she felt the material get draped over them.
"Okay, you can open 'em," Zoey said, anticipation clear in her voice.
Lindsey's eyes fluttered open and focused on the small black t-shirt, which featured a large faded skull, symbolizing The Punisher. Her lips pulled back to reveal a wide grin as she lifted the shirt to see it in the light.
"You said you liked him and when I found that…I-I thought of you. If you don't like it—" Zoey rambled on.
"I love it," she said, cutting her off. "Are you sure you want to give it to me, though? It would fit you, too."
Zoey shook her head. "Whoever lived there before had some pretty cool shirts so I got a few for myself. I just wanted to give this one to you."
"Thanks," Lindsey said, and wrapped her up in a friendly hug. "That was really thoughtful of you." She and Andrew exchanged a warm look over Zoey's shoulder, enjoying the sweet moment in the midst of a horrible day.
When the two parted ways, Zoey had a faint blush high on her cheekbones. The adorable image widened Lindsey's smile. She watched the girl walk over to her brother and get down to play with him. Lindsey turned to Andrew and he gave her a slight smile.
"She was really excited to give that to you," Andrew pointed out as she slipped a hand around the strong arm he had braced over his box.
"I could tell," she whispered playfully.
Andrew glanced at his children, and Zoey was in the process of stacking the communion cups into a skinny tower, which she then knocked over in a dramatic manner, pulling a giggle from Jacob. "How was he while we were gone?"
Lindsey shrugged. "Good. Nothing I can't handle."
Andrew's eyes gleamed in the soft light as he gazed at the woman in front of him. "I really appreciate you doing that. Thank—"
"You don't need to thank me. The boy's a sweetheart. I'd do anything for him…" The last sentence came out slower than the rest, almost as if she hadn't meant to make such a confession aloud. Jacob wasn't her son and the last thing she wanted was for Andrew to think she was trying to change that. On the other hand, she would be more than happy to act as a mother figure to his children, but wouldn't admit that to him—it wasn't her place.
As Lindsey looked down at the floor in embarrassment, Andrew tipped up her chin with a finger and stared at her evenly. "That means a lot to me, Linds…you, saying that," he murmured. "You have no idea how much of a relief it is to know that I'm not alone in this anymore."
Lindsey's tortured expression smoothed out and she bit her lip to hold back a smile.
"But I don't want you to feel any pressure or- or responsibility for them, because that's not fair to you."
Putting her heart out into the open, Lindsey said, "Andrew, I love those children. I know you don't want me to feel responsible for them, but I do. We're in this together…all of us."
Evidently touched by her words, Andrew leaned in to gently nuzzle his nose against hers, and then pressed a firm kiss to her parted lips.
"And I love you," she whispered, feeling thankful for yet another day in which she could still receive a response to those three sacred words.
"I love you, too." Andrew smiled as he released her and gave her the once over. "Come on, let's get cleaned up."
_____
After they rinsed off with water from the well and changed into some different clothing, everyone met inside the chapel for a group discussion. Even though the skull was supposed to be menacing, Andrew thought Lindsey looked cute in her newly acquired t-shirt. Zoey, on the other hand, said it looked "awesome" and Andrew had to agree with that too.
When they were all gathered around—except for Ana, who still hadn't returned—Andrew spoke first.
"The past two days have been the hardest we've had since…well, since the school fell." He glanced at a somber Charlie and Caren, remembering Eric. "We
knew there would be sacrifices, but I'm starting to question their worth." After a heavy sigh, he continued. "We have a decision to make—keep pressing on or go back to the ranch."
Most of the group reacted with sounds of protest. Andrew noticed a flash of panic cross over Caren's face, but Robert began talking before she could.
"What the hell, Andrew? We can't turn back now! What about Caren? She's pregnant! And your own kids? We'd be crazy to go back. We've come all this way. I mean, it would be a waste that Nadie and Darius died for this. Come on, back me up, Charlie."
The man scoffed. "Their deaths don't mean nothin', because that's just it—they're dead and they ain't comin' back!"
Charlie's reaction was harsh, but it'd only been about twenty-four hours since they'd lost Nadie. Clearly he was still grieving, and had every reason to be. His comment didn't go unnoticed, but Andrew chose not to address it. Looking around the room, he said, "We should take a vote."
"Do we really need to?" Nicholas asked in his usual commanding tone.
"Yeah, we do," Andrew said. "I make decisions for the group, but not when they're ultimately life or death—it's not my call."
"Wasn't it your call to go down that washed out road?" the other man asked, sending the tension in the room to new heights.
Andrew clenched his teeth together as guilt churned like a sickness in his stomach. "Do not put that on me," he replied in a low voice. The two men stared at one another without speaking. With Jacob now fast asleep, the room was plunged into silence.
Remarkably, it was Zoey who stepped up to unify the broken group. The girl scowled as she took in all the adult faces around her.
"Why are we fighting? We've all lost people we love—it's no one's fault. It's easy to blame other people, but that doesn't get us anywhere!" She looked to Charlie. "Nadie would want us to go on. She'd want us to be strong." Her determined gaze returned to the other group members and she said, "We're halfway there. It'd be just as easy to keep going as it would be to turn around. I mean, what if New Canaan is what they say it is? Shouldn't we find out for sure?" Zoey held her ground and stared each and every one of them in the eye before shrugging. "I know it's not up to me…and I'm just a kid, but I've been around long enough to know that we won't survive if we don't stick together."
Andrew gawked at the girl, his chest swelling with pride. He couldn't believe those words had just come out of his daughter's mouth. Here the adults were, bickering like children, while the child stood up and spoke like a grown woman. Andrew found moments to be proud of Zoey every day, but this one was separate from the rest.
As the speechless group nodded in agreement, he walked over to her and patted her on the back. He didn't want to make a big deal out of it and embarrass the teenager, so he simply gave her a wink.
Well done, kid, well done.
_____
Sometime during the night, Andrew heard Ana slink into the church. He and Lindsey were sleeping on the floor at the front of the chapel with Jacob positioned between them. Everyone else occupied the rows of pews. Charlie came down from his watch to meet the absent woman.
As she picked up an extra blanket, he whispered, "Hey… Are you okay?"
"No…but I will be," she answered softly, shaking out one of their new quilts.
They didn't say much else, especially with it being one quiet person to another. Watching Ana get settled in, Charlie finally added, "We're hittin' the road again in the mornin'."
The only thing the dark-haired woman said was, "Good."
Andrew could see the outline of Charlie's broad shape in the weak candlelight. The man observed Ana where she lay, gave her his trademark nod and returned to the steeple. Andrew faintly recalled the gentleness that had exuded from Charlie when they'd found Ana beaten and ravaged by Marcus. Come to think of it, even more so than her own boyfriend. He speculated, could there be something between the two reticent survivors—or was he reading too much into it? Charlie had a close relationship with Lindsey, but they were more like siblings. He'd never seen a hint of a romantic relationship between them. Charlie and Ana had been at The Factory together. It was possible that they'd formed a special friendship during that especially hellish week. With plenty of healing on the road ahead, maybe they would find more than one way to help each other, he mused as he drifted off to sleep.
Lindsey threw her head back and let out a guttural moan. Her golden hair tangled around her flushed face as she writhed in pleasure. Andrew enjoyed the sight of her under him, moving his eyes over her bare shoulders and down to her rosy nipples. Every part of him ached to have her, but yet, found no relief. Wondering what was going on, he lifted his head to look around the room. Crimson walls—the color of blood—and thick curtains surrounded the large bed. With this wider view, he suddenly realized that he wasn't actually on top of Lindsey—he was standing over her. She continued to whimper and sigh with every thrust from the man between her thighs.
Backing up in horror, Andrew thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest and explode into tiny pieces. The man giving Lindsey such unspeakable satisfaction was the one person he never wanted to see again.
Samuel.
Rage burned inside Andrew's veins. Just when he intended to cross the room and rip out Samuel's throat with his bare hands, Lindsey rolled her head to the side, locking her hooded eyes with Andrew's. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and smiled at him. Arching her back off the bed, she neared her release.
"Andrew." She said his name slowly, drawing it out like a purr.
"Lindsey, s-stop."
Samuel pushed into her again, but she kept her dark gaze on him. "Andrew!" she cried out.
"Goddammit, that's enough!" he snarled, trying to avoid his view of the repulsive act being carried out before him.
"Andrew!"
"Enough!"
He awoke like a shot, instantly aware of Lindsey hovering over him. Her eyes held a considerable amount of worry as he shifted to sit up. His heart pounded while he took a few seconds to catch his breath.
"I couldn't get you to wake up," Lindsey explained, caressing a gentle hand up his back to thread her fingers into the dark hair at the base of his neck. "Bad dream?"
Shrugging off her touch, Andrew cleared his throat and muttered, "Yeah."
Lindsey frowned as she held her hand away from him and then curled it into a tight fist. Dropping it into her lap, her voice was unsteady as she said, "I was talking to Nicholas…"
Suddenly an image of the large man on top of Lindsey assaulted Andrew. It was completely ridiculous to think of such a thing, but his head still felt foggy from the nightmare. His subconscious was vulnerable right now—and playing wicked tricks on him.
Lindsey finished what she was saying and looked at him expectantly. He hadn't heard a word she'd said. Frustrated with himself, he snapped, "All right, Lindsey, I'll talk to him!"
Her brown eyes widened and seemed impossibly big as hurt shone through them. She exhaled an unimpressed noise from the back of her throat and stood quickly. With one last confused glare, she turned and stalked out of the church.
Andrew closed his eyes on a sigh and rubbed trembling hands over his rough face. He cursed himself for being short with her. She'd done nothing wrong. It'd only been a dream—a really fucking bad dream—but he had no excuse to treat her like that. Pushing himself up to stand, he knew an enormous apology was in order.
Chapter 14
Andrew approached his daughter, who was sitting in a pew and beginning to feed Jacob a bottle of formula for breakfast. She looked tired and Andrew knew the trip had to be wearing on her too. Between sunken eyes and hunched shoulders, the image made him feel like a failure as a father. He was doing the best he could, but it still wasn't enough. The depressing thought made him wish for New Canaan once more.
They had to make it—they had to.
"Mornin'. Sleep okay?"
Zoey looked up from Jacob's face, blinked away the fatigue and shrugged. "It wasn't bad. We've h
ad worse," she mused.
Andrew sighed. "Indeed, we have. I think those tractor trailers in Fenton take the cake…"
"Oh, please do not talk about cake!"
He chuckled. "Sorry… Listen, we may be going to get some more supplies today. I need you to stay here with your brother."
"But, Dad—!"
"Zoey, please, just do this for me. I know you want to help, but after yesterday, I'm not taking any chances." He stared at her but got no answer. "All right?" he urged, prompting a response.
Zoey blew out a short breath and rolled her eyes. "Whatever."
Deciding to drop it there, Andrew ignored the scowl on her face and simply gave her a nod. In passing, he swept a tender hand over Jake's soft hair. Upon exiting the church, he saw Lindsey standing next to Charlie's truck while she talked to the man himself, along with Nicholas, Ana and Robert. Andrew watched her frown as he neared the group.
"What's goin' on?" he inquired, taking his usual stance with both hands relaxing on his gun belt.
Not to his surprise, Nicholas spoke first. "As you probably know, we need more supplies. Finding 'em could prove to be a challenge, though. This road's pretty desolate, which is great for traveling, but bad for scavenging."
"Can't we just go back for the other vehicle?" Robert asked, as if the answer was obvious to everyone else.
"And get stuck again? Hell no," Nicholas griped. "We may be able to go in on foot and bring back only what we can carry. Which brings us to our next issue—finding a second vehicle."
Charlie eyed a grungy once-white hatchback across the parking lot. "How 'bout that? Won't fit everyone, but it's somethin'."
"Where's everyone else supposed to ride? In the truck bed again?" Lindsey asked skeptically.
"I ain't sittin' in the back of no damn truck. I'm gettin' my fuckin' bike back!" Charlie said.