Dark Grace

by M. Lauryl Lewis

  He let go of me, and I could see sorrow on his face, mixed with longing. It was painful to see. We looked at each other for a moment before he turned away and sorted through his meager clothing supply and tossed a t-shirt over to me.

  “Thanks.”

  “You ok, Zoe?”

  “Ya.” I forced a smile. I slipped my skirt off, since it was also wet. The t-shirt hung down nearly to my knees. “Want to play cards until the rain clears?”

  “Sure. I’ll grab them.”

  We settled in on Susan and Nathan’s air mattress, since it was farthest from the outer edge of the shelter, facing each other with a respectable distance between us. Rain pattered on the tarp over our heads and the air felt heavy with humidity.

  “Gus?”

  “Ya, darlin’?”

  “What were your kid’s names?”

  He looked up at me, his eyes somewhat blank. “Wasn't expecting that question.”

  “Sorry,” I mumbled, feeling a bit embarrassed by my rudeness. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “No, no, it’s ok. My kids are Annabelle and Justin. We had a third, Constance, but she died when she was just ten days old.”

  “I’m sorry.” I wasn't sure what else to say.

  “I think Connie’s passing sent my ex-wife over the edge. She was never the same after that.”

  “When was the last time you saw them?”

  He took a deep breath and started shuffling the cards. He had taken his damp shirt off and was sitting bare-chested. I tried not to admire his physique. “Let’s see. Anna-bee was five, and Justin was three. My wife and the bastard she was messing around with took off with them. I was enlisted at the time and had to ship out. There wasn't really anything I could do. When my term was up, she’d left the state with them.”

  “Did you try to find them?”

  “I did. For several years. I heard from my ex, Sarah, once. Spoke to the kids on the phone. I got one piece of mail. A drawing from Anna. I was never able to pick up their trail. But I never stopped trying.”

  “Do you hope they’re still alive?” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized how stupid they were.

  “If they are, I hope they’re safe. I know I’ll never see them again, Zoe. I just pray they went quick, if they’re gone.”

  “I’m so sorry, Gus.” I reached over and placed my hand on his.

  He hung his head. “We’ve all lost a lot. Let’s just focus on not losing each other now, ok?”

  I nodded. “Sounds like the rain’s getting heavier.”

  He started dealing the cards. “Thirty-one ok with you?”

  “Yup. That way I can beat you.” I smiled at him challengingly.

  “We’ll see about that.” He kept his voice void of emotion, his own method of challenging me.

  We sat and played cards for hours, alternating between go-fish, thirty-one, and black jack. We talked about our old hopes and dreams, our fears, our families when we were growing up, and I got to hear an earful of Gus’ corny jokes. It was nice to spend a morning as just friends. Those moments alone with him brought the realization that we’d be being friends and not lovers. The rain began to lighten around noon. We got into dry clothes. I borrowed a pair of sweat pants from Boggs, since Susan and Em’s were too small for me now. I finished my outfit off with a flannel button-up shirt. These were my favorites, helping to conceal my growing belly. Once the rain had stopped, we ventured back out to the campsite. The fire had died down and was smoldering gently.

  “Ready to fish?” I asked. I was feeling better than I had in days and was actually looking forward to the activity.

  “Ready as ever, darlin’. Let’s go catch ‘em.”

  “If you grab the poles I’ll bring some drinking water,” I offered.

  “You got a deal.”

  The walk to the shore was brief, lasting only about ten minutes. The sun was peeking out from the clouds and the air was refreshing. There were some small birds twittering from nearby trees. Spring felt like it was just around the corner and trying to say hello. After a quick descent down a gradual rocky slope, we settled in on some driftwood logs. Little sand fleas were hopping about, obviously rejoicing in the sunshine. A mixture of seaweed and sea grass littered the small beach as the tide was coming in. I inhaled the salty air, letting it fill my lungs and give me a renewed sense of energy. I had set the bottles of water beside me and watched Gus as he arranged first his rifle and then the fishing poles. A group of three bald-headed eagles were circling high overhead, likely planning to catch some fish, just as we were.

  “It’ll be their mating season soon,” said Gus as he watched the birds gliding in circle. “They’re really gorgeous.”

  “They scare me,” I said. “Have you ever seen one up close? They have huge beaks and claws.”

  “Ya,” he replied. “But they’re gorgeous. Kings and queens of the sky.”

  “Scary,” was all I said. Gus chuckled under his breath.

  I watched the water glistening in the sun as Gus rigged the lines. I was secretly hoping for some whitefish for dinner. I noticed some crabs on the beach scuttling about. I wondered how hard they might be to grab in the open.

  “Gus?”

  “Huh?”

  “Think the crabs are safe to eat?”

  “I imagine so, why?”

  “I saw some eating on that dead guy back by the dock when we first found the boat.”

  “Crabs do that. Eat the garbage in the sea.”

  “Should I try to catch some?”

  “Sure, just don’t get pinched by the bastards.”

  I smiled as he looked at me, and then stood and headed toward the waterline. The small crustaceans proved to be fast. I tried to keep up with them, but every time I got near they managed to quickly scuttle sideways and disappear into the surf. Running after them wasn't the easiest thing for me, and I found myself holding my belly to support it. Finally, I got creative. I found a good sized rock and threw it at one before I got close enough to scare it away. My first throw failed miserably, but before long I had massacred four of the beasts. Gus walked along behind me gathering the horrid creature’s crushed carcasses.

  “Ok, Zoe, let’s get to some real fishing. We can boil these bad boys up later.”

  “’Kay.” I was just slightly out of breath and still holding my stomach.

  “You feeling ok?”

  I nodded. “Actually, ya, I feel great. Just out of breath.”

  “Getting a little hard to move around huh?”

  “Seems so,” I sighed as we reached our driftwood seat.

  His face bore a look of concern.

  “Still feeling the baby move?”

  I nodded.

  “Good. Hopefully the others will bring back some good equipment tonight. I’d love to listen for its heartbeat.”

  “That’d be cool. Look.” I pointed to a nearby tree, near the top. An eagle had landed.

  “Shhhh, stay quiet,” he whispered.

  I looked at him and wondered what was wrong as he reached for his rifle. I searched my head for signs of the dead, but came up blank. He wasn't acting like there was a threat. My eyes widened as he aimed his rifle at the eagle in the tree.

  “Gus, what are you doing?”

  He didn’t answer, but I promptly heard his gun fire. My ears rang as I watched the huge predatory bird fall from the tree. It landed in the tree line with a considerable thud. A huge grin spread out across Gus’ face.

  “We’ll be eating well tonight,” he said.

  “Gus! I can’t believe you killed it!”

  “You’ll be thanking me tonight!” he chuckled. I just shook my head. “C’mon, let’s go fetch it.”

  “Ewww.”

  We walked together into the trees and found the dead bird in short order. It was even bigger than I had expected.

  “Holy cow, it’s huge!”

  “They can have a wingspan up to seven and a half feet,” he said. “This one here looks like a femal
e, and she’s young. See how her head isn’t all white yet? They stay brown till they’re about four or five years old, if I recall correctly. The females are up to twenty five percent bigger than the males.”

  “You know too much,” I said. “Way too much.”

  “Nah, I’m just old.”

  “Are we really gonna eat it?” I asked.

  “You bet. It’ll taste just like chicken, darlin’.” He grinned at me. “Let’s get back to camp and get it started for when the others get back?”

  “Ok.”

  “You can gut the bird,” he said, immediately followed by a deep laugh.

  I smacked his arm, and then held onto his elbow as we walked back to the shore to collect the crab and fishing gear. His other arm was busy holding the dead eagle upside down by its thick yellow legs. Its massive wings trailed on the ground.

  As we left the tree line, Gus left the bird behind to collect on our way back with the gear. I looked out to the water again.

  “Gus! Look!” I said excitedly. In the distance was a small yellow raft, similar to our orange version. It looked like it was drifting toward us as the tide was coming back in.

  “Zoe, best go to the tree line darlin’. Till we know it’s safe.”

  “No way, Gus.”

  We stood side by side and watched the small boat drift closer. The wind was blowing in our direction, aiding its course. Before long the breeze brought with it the unmistakable smell of death and decay.

  “Oh no,” I moaned. “Do you smell it?”

  “I do,” he said simply.

  The raft was almost to the beach now. We couldn’t see anyone inside, but I could sense one of the dead.

  “I can feel it now,” I said. “But it’s so weak in my head.”

  Gus had his rifle aimed now. The raft was bumping against the beach, still bobbling in the surf. We waited there together for horror to emerge. The back end of the raft would sway from time to time, still adrift, while the front end seemed well anchored. This went on for several minutes and I began to shiver, not from being cold but rather from knowing one of the dead was near.

  “Zoe,” whispered Gus. I want you to stay here on the beach. I’m heading over to peek inside.”

  “Ok.”

  “Promise me you’ll stay here till I tell you it’s safe.” He said this all without looking at me, never taking his eyes off of the raft.

  “I promise. Gus, be careful.”

  He continued forward, rifle aimed at the raft as he walked. I had a sinking feeling in my gut, and the buzz in my head, while very faint, was irritating. I watched as he got close enough to the raft to be in real danger. The wait was impossibly long. Finally, Gus motioned me forward. I joined him, albeit hesitantly.

  As I made my way to his side, I was finally able to see into the bottom of the raft. Lying inside was a Roamer. Well, part of a Roamer. It had been dead for a long time, perhaps since the start of this plague. It was impossible to say at this point if it was a man or a woman. Its jaw was snapping back and forth, in search of something to consume. It was unable to do more than that as it had no arms, and only half of its torso. Its gray skin was thin and cracked, creating an image of a ‘living’ mummy. Its face bones were draped in this decaying skin, making it look gaunt. It must have been exposed to the sun for days, floating about aimlessly in the raft. Its shoulders ended in two stumps with darker gray stringy material trailing out. It made me wonder if the arms had been ripped off. Where its torso ended, the ribcage began. A segment of spine trailed below it, also trailing strands of fleshy substance. It was so far gone that it didn’t seem to even know that fresh meat was near. I thought it must be moving its mouth in hopes of food just finding its way there. I really wanted to vomit, so held my stomach and turned away.

  “Holy shit,” said Gus as he coughed from the stench.

  “We have to get rid of it, Gus. It’s going to stink up the whole island.”

  “Zoe, can you help me flip the raft? If we touch the fucker we’ll stink for days.”

  “Sure.”

  “Let’s drag the raft on shore first. We’ll have to bury it or it might keep washing ashore.”

  “What about burning it?” I asked.

  “Might be easiest, but smoke in the daytime might attract unwanted guests.”

  “We can drag it on shore then burn it after dark,” I suggested.

  “Ya, if we build a rock barricade to shield the flames from view. Might work out ok.”

  “Can you put it down though? It’s killing my head and my hip hurts.”

  “Of course I will.”

  It took us just a few minutes to bring the raft far enough on shore that the tide wasn't likely to claim it again. The raft was heavy, so we both took hold of one side and lifted. The semi-body, snapping jaws and all, toppled out. It ended up face-down in the coarse sand, trying to make lunch of the earth. Its horrid browned teeth were making scraping sounds against the grains of sand. The backside of the creature was even worse than the front. It had liquefied into a black sludge and there was no recognizable skin left. It was in stark contrast to the taut sun-dried skin covering its face and chest.

  “Ok, darlin’ go ahead and step back.”

  We dropped the raft. I imagined it’d never be usable again, the mess from the Roamer being extensive. I stepped back several yards, hoping the invasion in my mind would soon be over. I watched as Gus shouldered his rifle and picked up a large rock. He promptly brought the stone down on the back of the Roamer’s head. I could hear the cracking sound of its skull giving way to the assault, and the buzz in my head died. I didn’t need to ask why he chose this method for the kill. I knew bullets were a limited commodity and only to be used when absolutely necessary.

  “Hang tight while I rinse my legs off,” muttered Gus, his voice full of irritation and disgust. He stomped off to the salt water, walking out until he was knee deep. I forced myself to not laugh at him. I was the one who had asked him to kill the Roamer, so in a way his being coated in decay-splatter was my fault.

  We walked together, fishing poles in hand, back to where the dead eagle waited. Gus picked the bird up and held it upside down by its legs again, and we headed back to our campsite. I stayed a few feet ahead, since Gus now smelled a bit ripe, despite rinsing his legs off.

  CHAPTER 3

  Once we got back to camp, Gus set the bird and crabs out on a fallen tree not too far from the fire. I put the fishing gear away and then opened a bottle of water for each of us. From the position of the sun in the sky, I figured it must be mid-afternoon. The day had gone by fast. Gus was busy trying to rekindle the fire, which was still just barely smoldering.

  “I’ll get some dry kindling,” I offered.

  “Thanks, darlin’.”

  Before long I joined him fireside, a small armload of kindling in hand. He smiled at me gratefully and took it from my arms. Soon the fire was roaring and the heat felt soothing. We sat near the fire, he on a boulder and I on a log, and warmed ourselves for awhile.

  “I’m sorry about earlier,” he said out of the blue. “I know that wasn't fair.”

  “What wasn’t?” I asked.

  He looked at me with his intense eyes for a moment before answering. “Pulling you close and then pushing you away.”

  I shrugged. “Ya but I know it’s wrong,” I said quietly.

  “It’s just hard because I want to be near you so badly.”

  Feeling a bit uncomfortable with the conversation, I stood. I had planned to make up a chore that needed doing, but as I walked away Gus held a hand out to me. I wrapped my arms around myself and looked at his outstretched arm, considering.

  “Please?” he asked with sadness in his voice. “Just come sit with me for a minute?”

  I hesitantly took his hand and let him guide me to his lap, where I sat.

  “Tell me what I can do, Zoe, to make this right?”

  I looked at him sadly, studying the lines and angles of his face. He was a handsome man. Rugged. H
e looked tired and had traces of gray highlighting his sideburns that hadn’t been there when we’d first met. Without meaning to, I reached up and touched the side of his head.

  “Your beard’s growing,” I whispered.

  He closed his eyes and nuzzled my hand with the side of his face. “This isn’t helping,” he breathed. “God, it’s not helping things.”

  I went to take my hand away, but he reached up with his own and held mine steady. He lifted his other to the back of my neck and leaned in. He put his cheek against mine and inhaled. I could feel that he was restraining himself, trying to not get lost in the moment. His mouth found mine and we kissed long and hard, passion nearly consuming us.

  “They won’t be back for awhile,” I whispered, almost inaudibly.

  “Hours,” he echoed my thought.

  “It’s just you and me,” I said quietly.

  My lips found his neck, just behind his ear, where I kissed him sweetly while breathing him in. I could hear him moaning gently. My hands found his shoulders as I moved my lips to his earlobe, which I drew into my mouth.

  “Oh Lord, girl,” he gasped.

  His hands slid up my shirt and he caressed my back lovingly while I nuzzled his neck with kisses. Our lips eventually met and the resulting kiss was filled with a deep affection of which I can’t claim to have experienced before.

  “I want to make love to you so badly,” he whispered close to my face as we stared into one another’s eyes.

  I rested my forehead against his and gave him a nearly imperceptible nod. Taking my sign, he carefully and expertly unbuttoned my flannel shirt, never taking his eyes off my face. I shrugged out of the shirt with his help and watched in awe when he pulled his own t-shirt over his head. His chest was smooth and absent of hair. His muscles were a work of art that I had admired from afar before, but never this close up. Still sitting on his lap, I traced the contours of his pecs lightly with my fingertips. I felt a sense of peace inside; an inexplicable calm. I leaned down and kissed his bare skin near his left nipple. His flesh felt hot on my lips; almost electric. He sucked his breath in and moved his hips beneath me wantonly. I took his cues and drew his small but erect nipple into my mouth and sucked gently. Eventually I worked one of legs around him so that I was straddling his lap. He placed one if his hands on the back of my head and clenched my hair gently in his fist. This time meeting my eyes with his, I saw fire and desire in his stare. He kissed me hard, making my insides burn with need.