On Our Own

by Silver, L. D.

  I give her the ring, and she collapses to the ground with a scream that’s a cry and a moan all wrapped in one.

  Chapter 20

  When this happened to me, back on that road at the start of the day, Cassie hugged me without asking, so I think it’s okay for me to do the same thing. I’ve barely had time to sit down and she’s in my lap and hugging me, crying. I pat her hair like my mom would do for me while I look over her shoulder watching for zombies, just in case.

  After a while, she calms down enough that I get her inside. I shut the door behind us and go into the living room. We sit on the couch and she wraps around me again even though that one shoulder is still wet. Ick. But she did it for me, so I sit still and pat her.

  Eventually, the tears stop flowing and I realize she’s fallen asleep. Is it okay for me to move now? But I don’t want to risk waking her up, so I stay.

  We’re sitting on a white couch that has large pink roses printed on it. It’s softer than cardboard but still isn’t as comfortable as some of the broken-down couches I’ve sat on. There’s a gorgeous, dark wood coffee table in front of me and the far wall has the largest flat-screen TV I’ve ever seen. To my left is a small window, and in front of the window are two large, cushy chairs in the same pink rose pattern as the couch. They’re clustered around a small wood table with a chessboard on top. The wall to my right is lined with bookcases, filled with books instead of knick-knacks.

  The only thing that shows use besides the obviously mid-game chess set is the giant coffee table book resting on the table in front of me. It’s a history of Egypt, and there are little yellow sticky notes stuck to various pages. I try to reach for the book, because I’m fascinated by ancient Egypt (okay, I’m a bit of a geek, and I know history isn’t cool, but they built the pyramids thousands of years ago, for God’s sake!), but I can’t get to it without shifting Cassie and potentially waking her up.

  So I’m just sitting there in silence, actually about to drift off when I hear a noise in the other room.

  My sleepiness is burned off by adrenaline in seconds. I’d like to believe it’s just a cat in the other room, with no question as to how it survived, but I know better. I look down at Cassie. I really don’t want to wake her up, which I know is ridiculous because there’s a zombie in the other room, but really it’s been so nice. So I put a pillow over her ears – that will help with the noise, right? – and reach across my body with my right hand to unclip the gun at my side.

  I cock the weapon like I’ve seen on TV and point it at the door. Really, how hard could this be?

  Moments tick by and my arm starts to hurt. What’s taking so long?

  I put my arm down and of course that’s when it appears at the door.

  I’m expecting maybe someone in a maid’s uniform or a butler’s outfit, but instead it’s some guy in a polo shirt and khakis. Is that the new uniform? I don’t know. His neck’s been ravaged, and it’s not holding up too well; there’s a lot of red and green and then some squirming white things I’d rather not think about. His hand grips the remains of a gold doorknob. I don’t what that’s about.

  As I raise the gun again, his head turns to me, and his cracked brown eyes widen in surprise. He moans and raises his hand just as I squeeze the trigger.

  Nothing happens.

  Crap!

  What the hell is wrong with my gun?!

  Chapter 21

  It takes me a few moments and then I remember something about a safety. I mess with the gun until I think I’ve found it. Of course by this time he’s in the room, but ha-ha, I’ve figured it out. I pull the trigger and the noise is so loud I swear I’ve exploded the house.

  And I miss him completely. Apparently it’s not as easy as they make it look on TV.

  He moans again and now he’s only a foot away. Cassie’s awake and I rudely throw her to the floor, dropping the gun and grasping with my left hand for anything I can take. I find a lamp, turn it to the side and put my whole body into a swing just like I would a bat. It makes some impact, causing the zombie to stumble a bit, and then the gun goes off again.

  I turn and look at Cassie, who’s holding the pistol in both hands.

  “I can’t believe you just shot at me,” I say, giving her a dirty look so hopefully she’ll realize that shooting in my direction is a bad idea. I hit the zombie again and he stumbles backward but the lamp breaks in two.

  I search for a weapon, and fortunately Cassie’s decided to stop shooting at me because she throws my bat to me. Armed again, I hit the zombie in the stomach with all of my strength. I follow up with a hit to the skull, but the friggin’ empty-head still won’t fall down. I aim once more and Cassie runs over and tackles its legs at the same time as I’m hitting it. Finally, it’s down and I make a mess of the head until it stops moving.

  I drop the bat, breathing hard. This is too much work. I’ve got to figure out how to shoot that gun effectively.

  “I want you to bury my dad,” Cassie says.

  “Cassie, it’s not safe.” I gesture at the body near the door. “Is that a butler’s uniform, by the way?”

  She frowns at me. “No, that’s one of the neighbors.”

  It hits me that’s she just casually talked about a person she knew, that we killed… the, uh… body of, together, like it was Tuesday.

  “I know it’s dangerous, but it’s safer here than near the mall. We can see them coming. I’ll keep watch.”

  “Cassie, that’s a lot of work.”

  She turns tightly on one heel and walks out of the room. A few seconds later, I hear a door slam. I’m sitting on the couch wondering whether to go after her when the door bangs open and she appears in the doorway holding a shovel. Cassie simply stares at me, with no sign of light or happiness in her face at all, just shut down and determined.

  I push myself off the couch, grab an afghan off a nearby chair, and take the shovel.

  “Watch everything,” I order.

  I walk ahead of her and cover most of him with the afghan. Once I’m done with that she comes nearer and keeps watch. I start digging.

  I make a very shallow grave, but even with that by the time I’m done my arms are shaking so badly I can barely hold the shovel.

  “Will that cover him?” she asks, and I look up at her from the bottom of my eyes, dead tired. “Okay.” She holds her hands up. “Look away.” I don’t want her to see me move him. It’s going to be very awkward. A breeze blows across my skin and I stop for a second, enjoying the cool air. I shut my eyes for a moment.

  I open them and drop the shovel to the ground. I set the afghan aside then make sure Cassie isn’t watching me. Then I roll, drag and push her father’s body into the ground. It just barely fits.

  I drape the blanket over him and pull it up under his chin. I think she needs to see him, to really know inside that he’s gone, but I’m worried it will give her nightmares. I close his eyes, try to cover the worst of what happened to his face, and then stand up and brush my hands against my jeans.

  “Okay, Cassie,” I say.

  She turns slowly and looks into the grave. She bursts into tears again, and I want to go hold her but we need to face each other so we can look out for zombies in both directions.

  “Why don’t you say something?” I ask softly. She just cries harder. I sigh and bow my head.

  “Today, we lay Cassie’s father to rest. He was a good man, greatly loved by his daughter. She will miss him and love him always.”

  I grab some dirt and put it in Cassie’s hand. “Throw it in there,” I tell her.

  She tosses it limply.

  “I love you, Daddy,” she says softly, tears flowing down her face as she grabs my hand with her dirty one.

  The breeze kicks up again, making my hair whip softly against my neck. I notice she smells a bit like apples, and I wish, I really wish I could make her dad alive and well again, just to see her smile.

  Chapter 22

  After the burial, I stumble back inside the house. There
’s no way we can go further today.

  Together, we go through the house and make sure it’s locked and zombie-free. The home is big, empty and beautiful. As we sit on tall chairs at the kitchen counter, eating cold food out of cans, I imagine Cassie is surrounded by memories. She doesn’t talk me to me and barely pays attention to her food. She just stares off into space and shovels corn into her mouth.

  When we’re finished I collect our dishes and put them in the sink, even though there isn’t any way for me to wash them. As the forks clink in the stainless steel bottom, I think that it was really nice to eat food with a utensil again even if said food was cold.

  I lead Cassie upstairs to a hallway that has lush, white carpet that doesn’t even have a mushed-down part in the middle where people have walked on it a lot. She turns away from me, opening one of the doors, and then pauses as if remembering I’m here.

  “The guest room is down the hall and to the right.” She points and then is closed off in her bedroom.

  “Cassie,” I say to the closed door. “Come get me if you need anything, okay?”

  I tell myself she’s acting like this because she’s sad, and not because she doesn’t want to be around me.

  I walk down the hall and open the first door to the right. It’s a pretty nice room, about the size of my mom’s master bedroom in the apartment. All of the furniture is light brown; obviously all from a matching set which was bought at the same time. There’s a dresser along the wall to my right, with four long drawers and nice round handles. The bed is parallel to me with the headboard against the next wall. It’s huge - three pillows wide – and is covered with a white bedspread with elegant little purple flowers on it. There’s a mosquito net thingy which starts at the ceiling and drapes over the entire bed.

  The wall across from it has a flat-screen TV flanked by two bookcases, and again the bookcases have books in them. I shut the door behind me, put my backpack on the floor, and examine the shelves. They’re filled with paperbacks ranging from thrillers, to romances, to science fiction; a truly thoughtful, wonderful selection varied enough for any guest. I sigh and look at the TV. I would have really liked to have stayed here in the past. Cassie’s parents had style.

  Just for the fun of it, I grab one of the thrillers and crawl onto the bed with my bat. Then I read until I fall asleep.

  #

  When I wake up Cassie is already up and about, her eyes still puffy and her skin pale. We eat brunch and afterwards she puts down her fork and stares ahead as she talks to me.

  “Thank you for burying my dad. I’m glad we stayed the night, but I want to get a few things and then go, okay?” She drops her head and glances up at me.

  “Okay,” I answer. It’s selfish, but I’m glad she wants to leave. I’m also grateful that for all of the hurt in her that she’s still strong enough to keep going.

  “Do you need my help getting the stuff?”

  “I could probably fill another backpack with what I’d like to bring, but some of it I can replace when we get to a safe place. How about you just come with?”

  “Sounds good.” I smile.

  She leads me down some raw-wood stairs to the concrete floor of the basement. It looks like any other, full of junk, cardboard boxes and a washing machine. Then I follow her to the back of the room and a large metal door. There is a small pad set in the wall to the left of it. It looks like one of those thumbprint checkers from spy movies.

  Cassie reaches down her shirt and pulls out a key on a string necklace. She inserts it into a lock above the doorknob.

  “He had the lock put in two weeks after we first heard about the zombies, even though everyone started complaining about the compromised security. Then, a few weeks before he – before I left, he gave me a copy of the key. I didn’t know why at the time.”

  “Your father?”

  She nods and opens the door. Cassie lets me walk inside and then locks the door behind me.

  Chapter 23

  We’re in a lab, much like the ones in school, only a lot nicer, with clean, white countertops and shining sinks. Laptops are placed around the room in convenient places, situated nicely away from working areas. I realize that I can see everything clearly, which means the electricity is on because the room is windowless. It takes me a minute to locate a generator neatly hidden under one of the counter areas.

  “I came down here last night,” Cassie says. I wonder then hope she didn’t sleep down here.

  “It’s nice.” I don’t really know what else to say. Cassie nods and walks to one of the laptops on the far side of the room. She quickly has it humming, pulling a thumb drive out of her pocket and plugging it in.

  “It’ll be just a few minutes,” she tosses over her shoulder. I walk around as she works, running my fingertips along the smooth, slick surface of the countertop. Past Cassie is a white door with a top half made of that cloudy, white glass that seems to exist mostly in old school buildings. I’m just reaching for the doorknob when Cassie says, “Don’t go in there.” There’s a hardness to her voice I haven’t heard before, a bit of confidence mixed with a commanding tone. I’m back by her side before I even realize it.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “Getting some files. I’ll take some of the lab books, but I like having the electronic copies, too.”

  “Files of what?”

  Her flying fingers hover over the keys. “I suppose I can trust you, because you saved my life, and telling you won’t break the security because the government doesn’t exist anymore.”

  She visibly braces herself and avoids my eyes. “It’s the data from developing The Shot, and the research he did after we found out it didn’t work.”

  “Your dad developed The Shot?” I screech, waving my arms without looking and sweeping a beaker to the floor with a crash. She flinches.

  “Yes,” she replies softly.

  “Do you know how many people sold things very precious to them –” and here my voice breaks – “just so they could get The Shot?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know what it was like to see people you cared about die in front of you because they thought they were protected?” I know I’m shouting, but I can’t help it, just like I can’t stop the tears flowing down my face.

  “No,” she says quietly. “I’m sorry. It was never supposed to be a cure.”

  “Then why the price! Why a thousand dollars per shot?” I yell. “Why set it so high that it tore families apart and left mothers and fathers hungry?”

  I turn away from her, crying openly now and full of rage. I smash a whole set of beakers.

  “We tried! My dad argued with them. He said it should be free, but they wouldn’t listen!”

  Tears are forming in her eyes and I can tell she’s upset, but I can’t stop. I glance around for something else to smash but all of the beakers are now a glittering mess. Cassie puts a counter between us.

  “He didn’t have any bodies when he started working on it. After the attacks, they still refused to give us any. For months afterwards, we just got vials of blood they promised were infected.”

  “After the attacks?”

  She nods, her face somber. “They had him looking for the cure weeks before India.”

  “Oh my God.” A wave of nausea washes away my anger. “The Marine I saw at the attack. Did the government cause this? Did they create the zombie virus?”

  “They never said yes to that. The most they would admit was they knew this might happen a few months before they came to my dad and a few months before India. They knew. A handful of other countries knew, too.”

  “Dear God,” I mutter, my hands cold and clammy with the knowledge that I may have been right.

  Chapter 24

  I walk away and let her work. Then what she said triggers another thought in my head, one I’m not about to share with her.

  The way her father’s body had looked… now it strikes me that maybe he’d been assassinated, killed by an angry mob. I do
n’t want to ask, but I have the feeling he saved her life by sending her off with someone else while he confronted them, even though it meant he would die.

  I run my hand along the cool countertops, realizing he died to save Cassie. His actions, his ring, and her response to his death all tell me he did that out of love. But he also kept alive the one other person who knew about his research, potentially saving all of us.

  I turn and look at Cassie’s back. What are the chances that I would run into maybe the one person left who could save the world? Surely there are more like her out there, right? With that kind of knowledge? What if there aren’t?

  I’d gotten good grades in school. Maybe I can help? And hey, it isn’t like I’m going to get to be a famous actress now.

  “Cassie, can I help?”

  “What?” She looks up, a bit distracted.

  “Can I help with the research?” I take a breath. I can’t believe I’m going to offer up this next part; I so want to be in an area where I can kill zombies I don’t know. “Since everything’s set up here, we could stay here and work on it.”

  She stops working, blinking several times and tipping her head back, then shakes her head. “No, ah –” her voice dips low – “you were right. Let’s get out of town. Away from everywhere we knew. We can set up a lab somewhere else. And then yes, I’d like your help. You definitely have more science than I have.” She tries to smile, but it breaks in the middle and never reaches her eyes.

  “Cool.”

  “I’m almost done here. Why don’t you get everything else ready?”

  “Sure,” I say quietly and slip out of the room.

  #

  A few hours later, I find her in her bedroom. It’s a typical little girl’s room, the walls a dark pink color with white trim. There are pictures of unicorns on the wall and Barbies piled in a heap in a wire crate. Her giant four-poster bed is covered in a bedspread with ballerinas all over it, twirling on one toe forever.