by Kody Boye
“I know.”
“I’m sorry for calling you names.”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry for everything.”
“It’s ok,” Arnold said, closing his eyes.
As his younger brother cried in his arms, Arnold shamelessly shed a few more tears of his own.
If only Jessiah were here.
He’d know what to do.
* * *
Erik tapped on the door with the back of his knuckles. He pushed it open and peeked into the room, taking note of Ian’s shirtless form lying on the bed. “Ian? You doing ok?”
“Yes,” Ian said. “Something bothering you?”
“Not a lot, but a little.”
“What’s up?”
Erik stepped into the room. He took a moment to admire the floral décor hanging along and around the window before returning his attention to Ian. “You care for a little downer?”
“Like I said, what’s up?”
“Dakota and Jamie saw a zombie walking around earlier.”
“So?”
“She was covered in ice.”
“So what does that mean?”
“That they’re not going anywhere,” Erik sighed. “At least not for a while.”
“We’re on our own, aren’t we? No military help at all.”
“Not as far as I can tell. I’ve been messing with a radio here in the kitchen. It’s working, but I’m not picking anything up.”
“Nothing?”
“There’s some static, a few garbled words here and there, but nothing concrete. I think one of them might have been a relief broadcast, but whatever it is, I can’t hear it.”
“What makes you think it was?”
“Something about ‘all citizens’ and the like.” Erik said.
“Your headaches been better?”
“I guess. I haven’t had one for a few days.”
“That’s good to know.”
“Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For asking.”
“We were all worried about you when we first got here. You know that, right?”
“I know.”
“Can I ask a favor, if it’s no big deal?”
“Shoot.”
“You know I’m bipolar. I mentioned it back at the base.”
Ah, Erik thought.
How could he have forgotten that frustrated moment when, while lying in his room, he’d heard a knock on the door only to find Ian—depressed, near tears and trembling, only able to say, I need my meds, Erik—I ran out.
Ian continued, indifferent to Erik’s epiphany. “I’ve been having a really rough time. I’ve been doing the best I can to control my temper, but I’m starting to go through some of the depressive cycles and I don’t want to get any worse than I already am. It’s hard enough having to be cooped up, but with almost nothing to do, I’m surprised I haven’t gone crazy.”
“You need meds,” Erik agreed. “Why haven’t you mentioned it before?”
“Because I didn’t want to bother you with it.”
“It doesn’t bother me. Fuck. I just wish we would’ve thought to grab them before we left.”
“We weren’t anywhere near the supply closet when we had to leave, Erik. It’s no one’s fault.”
“I know.” Erik said. “Ok. Cool. You need meds.”
“That’s all I’m asking for.”
“You know what kind?”
“Symbyax, but I can deal with other stuff too.”
“We can do that on our next supply run.”
“So you’ll talk to Jamie and whoever?”
“I will.”
“Hey, Erik? Just between us…before, when I was in prison…after I was forced to rape that girl for my initiation…I used to think that no one would ever accept me after what I’d done.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. When the other guys I was with died—when Dakota and Steve killed them just as they should have—and I was sitting there with the plastic cuffs around my wrist and my life dangling on the line, I thought that I would never get a second chance. You know what though?”
“What?”
“I got a second chance, Erik. You guys gave it to me.”
“They don’t come often,” Erik agreed, seating himself at the foot of the bed. “But in my opinion, Ian, you’ve proven yourself in my eyes. I don’t care what anyone says: know in your heart that I, Erik Roberts, former member of the United States military, think you have redeemed yourself for what you’ve done.”
“Thank you,” Ian said, a tear snaking down his face. “So much, Erik.”
“So we need medicine,” Rose said. “What’s the big deal?”
“What’s the big deal?” Jamie asked. “We’re in the middle of a fucking blizzard!”
“All I’m asking is to go to the drug store in town and see if we can find some of what Ian needs,” Erik said, raising his hands and slowly bringing them down. “Chill, Jamie.”
“Chill?”
“He’s got a point,” Dakota said, setting a hand on Jamie’s lower back. “Jamie, if the drugstore’s in town—”
“And only a ten-minute drive away,” Erik interrupted.
“Right. Why not at least try?”
“Because it’s blizzarding for Christ’s sake!”
“Easy big boy,” Steve said, pulling Jamie back a few steps. “I say three of us, including Erik, go out and get the drugs. Think about it, Jamie. We can hit this pharmacy and we’ll be set for the whole winter.”
“If it hasn’t already been raided,” Rose said. She bit her lower lip when all eyes turned on her. “Sorry for being a pessimist.”
“Nothing to be sorry about,” Erik said. “Who’s with me?”
“I am.”
“Count me in,” Steve said.
“Then it’s settled,” Erik nodded, looking to Jamie. “We’ll take the truck and that’ll be that. We’ll be back in an hour or so.”
“You remember where the drug store is?” Jamie sighed.
“I do.”
* * *
“You can’t blame them for wanting to go,” Dakota said, draping a blanket over his boyfriend’s naked shoulders.
“I know,” Jamie sighed.
A knock came at the door just then, and shortly thereafter, it opened to reveal Ian, dressed in a pair of jeans and a hoodie much too small for his broad frame. “Hey,” he said, his deep voice dampened by the chill he’d obviously just walked through.
“Hey,” Jamie replied. Dakota smiled in response.
“I didn’t mean to send you out in the cold. I’ve been going without as long as I can.”
“You should’ve said something sooner,” Jamie said. “We were just getting Ibuprofen and stuff before.”
“I know. I already feel stupid enough about it.”
“Don’t worry,” Dakota smiled, reaching out to grip Ian’s hand. “I bet they’ll be back any moment.
* * *
Rose pulled the crowbar out of what remained of the zombie’s head. “Fuck.”
“Fuck is right,” Steve said, looking at his own corpse. “Talk about a surprise attack.”
“You ok in there, Erik?”
“Yep,” Erik said, looking out at them from behind the shatterproof-glass counter. “You guys should get in here.”
“We’re afraid we’ll mess something up,” Steve said. “Right, Rose?”
“Not exactly, but right,” Rose agreed. She dangled the weapon at her side and kicked the corpse over, grimacing when she saw the thing’s disengaged spinal cord. “It was on its last legs before I took care of it.”
“Pretty impressive stuff there,” Steve said. “You in the army or something?”
“No.”
“Just wondering.”
“Were you?”
“Was. See the scar here? Bomb. Broke all three bones. I was honorably discharged with a purple heart.”
“You saved someone’s life?”
“And
nearly lost my own in the process.”
“That’s something to be admired,” Rose said. “Not many people are willing to put themselves in harm’s way for someone else.”
“Did you?”
“Yeah.”
“Who for?”
“My friend Therese. Mary’s crazy boyfriend broke into the apartment and shot her after he saw the bite. Thinking back on it, it was the best option, but we didn’t know what was going on and what the bites did. Jerard was just about to shoot Therese before I killed him with a candlestick.”
“Shit,” Steve said.
“I bashed his skull in while he screamed for me to stop.”
“Did she make it?”
“No. She sacrificed herself so the people on the boat could get away.”
“She’s her own purple heart in the sky,” Steve said, looking up at the ceiling.
Rose looked up as Erik knocked on the glass and pushed a dozen bottles of pills through the porthole. “They’re marked,” he said. “See those little pieces of paper inside them? That’s the name of the drug. There’s no issue about getting them mixed up.”
Steve passed the bag to Rose. “How much more is left?”
“We’ve basically hit a gold mine,” Erik said, continuing to comb through the shelves. “We’ve got everything from Xanax to Oxycontin to generic Morphine in here.”
“Are we going to get all of it?”
“We might as well. Better we get it before someone else does.”
“Pew,” Rose said, shooting Steve with her index finger.
“No kidding,” Steve sighed.
“It’ll be a little while longer,” Erik said. “I don’t want to worry them, but it’s better we get what we can while we can.”
Rose said, “Hey, Steve? About Mary, Therese and what happened while I was on the boat. I saw hell and back over the last two months. I’ve seen people die, kill themselves, get eaten alive or throw themselves into the ocean to get eaten by sharks. I’ve had to kill people I thought were my friends after they turned and even when they didn’t, all because of this…this thing that’s happening. But you know what?”
“What?”
“It’s given me a second chance.”
“At what?”
“Life.”
“How so?”
“If this hadn’t happened,” Rose answered, “and the world hadn’t gone to hell, I would’ve been on the streets, spreading my legs so I wouldn’t have to be homeless for the night.”
“Shit,” Steve said.
“Shit is right,” Rose replied. “But despite everything that’s happened, I don’t regret any of it, because it’s made me the woman I am today. And I’m pretty damn proud of that woman.”
* * *
“They’re fine,” Dakota said, hoping to God that Jamie would quit pacing back and forth.
“They probably just hit the jackpot,” Desmond said. “Seriously, Jamie, nothing has gone wrong.”
“They said an hour,” Jamie growled.
“Don’t be mad at them,” Ian said. “Be mad at me.”
“I’m not mad at anyone but that motherfucker Erik.”
“I’m the one who had them go out in the first place.”
Jamie shook his head in frustration. He stopped pacing and took the radio from the loop on his belt. “Jamie to Steve, Jamie to Steve. Come in?”
“Coming in crystal clear,” Steve said. “We’re almost back to base.”
“See?” Dakota asked. “Everything’s fine.”
“Peachy,” Jamie said, killing the radio before throwing a coat over his shoulders. “Come help me, Ian.”
* * *
It took all of them to pull the gate from its place in the ground. Slick with snow and nearly frozen to the ground, it first didn’t move, then groaned as though someone had just disturbed it from sleep. At one point, Jamie thought he would lose his grip on it, as Ian was even struggling to maintain his grip with his bare hands.
With beads of sweat rolling down their foreheads, Jamie and Ian gave one final tug.
The gate loosened and rolled back with hardly any further effort.
“You get it?” Dakota asked.
“We got it,” Erik said, throwing the backpack onto the floor. “You’ve got enough pills to last you through…well, through the winter, at least.”
“Thanks, Erik,” Ian smiled, bringing the lanky medic into a one-armed hug. “I really appreciate it.”
“My pleasure, Ian. Happy to do it.”
“You guys run into any trouble at there?” Jamie asked.
“Two zombies,” Steve said. “I killed one and Rose got the other.”
Rose yanked her hair out of her ponytail. “Stupid motherfuckers.”
“Neither of you are hurt, I assume?” Jamie asked. All three of them shook their heads. “All right, Erik. I guess you and Desmond need to work together to make a list of what all we have.”
“I have most of the regular medicine down,” Desmond said from his place on the couch. “I counted by pill, too.”
“Which is exactly what you need to do,” Erik said, clapping the boy’s shoulder. “We doing a big family dinner tonight again?”
“Might as well,” Jamie said. “The boys haven’t met Rose, so I think it’s time for an introduction.”
“As do I,” Rose nodded.
Dakota smiled.
Things were going just as planned.
* * *
He rolled the crystal beads around in his fingers and tried not to think about his own father. Cold, alone, fixed to a life-support machine and filled with the greatest amount of hate that could possibly ever be imagined—he’d once been a great person, a man filled with power and the greatest words of God. How he’d fallen from such a place had and would always be a mystery to Kevin, but he couldn’t dwell on it. The only thoughts on his mind were his children, of the two remaining people in this world who needed him.
These beads were supposed to be Jessiah’s.
Family tradition mandated that the winter crystal rosary was to be passed down to the eldest Catholic son of each generation, but with Jessiah gone and Arnold now up to the bat, was it even proper to pass this down?
Would they care? Would they really care?
He’d never known his grandfather to be a judging man—his father, sure, but never his grandfather. And he was sure if his grandfather’s father had been bad and without proper faith, he would have known, but this…this was different. This was giving an unbaptized son a religious family heirloom.
“Do I need a sign?” he said to himself, bringing the crystals to his chest. “Do I really, truly need a sign?”
Closing his eyes, he bowed his head and clasped his hands together, shivering as the beads between his hands seemed to sweat with guilt.
God, please, if there is something I must do or something I must say, please answer me. Give me the sign I need to know what I have to do.
A knock came at the door.
“Dad?” Arnold asked, cracking the door open. “Can I come in?”
“Y-yes, of course,” he managed, making the sign of the cross over his heart. “Come in, son.”
The door opened. Arnold closed it behind him and frowned when he saw his father sitting in the chair. “Is everything ok, Dad?”
“I’m glad you came. There’s something I wanted to talk to you about, Arnold.”
The boy seated himself in the sole office chair. “What is it?”
“See this?” Kevin asked, raising the ice-blue beads in front of him. Arnold nodded. “These beads have been passed down through our family for the past eighty years. Each generation, the holder gives the beads to his oldest son after he has been baptized under the Catholic faith. Son…I know this is hard for you to imagine, and I know the pain you’re going through because I feel it just as much. Now that Jessiah’s gone, you should be the one who holds the beads.”
“Dad—”
“Let me finish,” he said, waiting for his son to
close his mouth before he continued. “I know I’ve neglected taking both you and your younger brother to church. That was my fault, and still is. You and your brother haven’t been baptized, and while I’m not of the opinion that you won’t go to Heaven just because of what I’ve done, I’m guilty of not teaching you what it is to believe in God.”
“It’s ok, Dad.”
“No it isn’t, Arnold. It isn’t at all.” Kevin reached forward. Beads entwined within his fingers, he took his son’s hands in his own and enclosed Arnold’s fists around the beads. “Pray with me?”
“Dear God,” Arnold said, bowing his head.
“Please hear my plea,” Kevin continued. “I have been wrong in not baptizing either of my children in Your holy light, in Your great water. Please, if You are listening, and I know You are, because You hear everything, please cast my sons in your light. Please, allow us sanctuary, and please, allow us truth. Amen.”
“Amen,” Arnold echoed.
Kevin slipped his fingers out of the beads. They fell neatly into his son’s hands.
“They’re yours, Arnold,” Kevin said, “along with this box and the Bible within it.”
“Are you sure, Dad?”
“I’m certain,” Kevin said. “Now go. Get your brother. We’re expected for dinner tonight at the Marks’.”
When Arnold left the room, Kevin closed his eyes.
Thank you, God. Thank you for giving me a sign.
* * *
They sat around the table with smiles on their faces and contentedly full. The dining room was aglow with lantern light and cast in shadow by the softly-falling snow outside, Dakota raised his eyes to look at the men and the one woman around him, smiling at each and every one of them as he caught their eyes and held them with his gaze. From Jamie at his right, to Rose directly across from him and to Steve at his left, and everyone in between, he felt warmth in his heart for each one.
This is it. Our own little family.
“Our own little us,” Dakota said quietly to himself.
“What’d you say, babe?” Jamie asked, setting an arm across his shoulders.
“Don’t mind him,” Steve laughed, setting his arm directly over Jamie’s. “He talks to himself. Huh, kid?”
“Sometimes,” Dakota smiled.
The boys snickered. Even Kevin, whom Dakota hadn’t seen show an ounce of happiness since he arrived, managed a slight smile.