by Tracey Ward
“I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt you. I’d be leaving for my sake.”
“That’s a loophole and you know it.”
“If it gets ugly—“
“Then we’ll deal with it,” he interrupts and meets my eyes. “When the hallucinations happen, do they trick you or do you know they’re lies?”
I take a shuddering breath and release it slowly. I think of my mom, who I know is gone, and my uncle at the table, who I knew was fine as I watched his skin slowly peel from his body. They’re grotesque and horrifying, but I always know they can’t be real. The problem is, though, that if I see Jordan as a zombie falling apart before my eyes, that’s not necessarily outside the realm of possibility. Not anymore.
I try to explain this to him but he shakes his head adamantly. “You’ll know me. We’ll make a safe word.”
I have to laugh. “A safe word? Like people use for kinky sex?”
“Maybe that could be our safe word. Kinky sex.”
“Wait, what are we doing with this safe word?”
His voice becomes serious and my smile fades at the sound. “When you see something that you’re not sure of, something like me with white eyes and a zombie walk, you ask me what the safe word is. If I can’t tell you, I’m one of them and you need to kill me. If I can say it, please don’t.”
“That’s risky at best,” I tell him, unsure if this is a good idea or just insane.
“I don’t want to leave you,” he says earnestly. “I’ve thought about it for the last hour, and even with this on top of everything else we have to deal with, I don’t want to leave.”
“You don’t?” I whisper with a shaky smile.
He shakes his head and tucks my long, dark hair behind my ear.
“If this is you, if this is who will be underneath everything else, then that’s something worth fighting for.”
I step forward and press my lips hard against his, my free hand running behind his neck and holding him to me. He puts his hands on my hips and holds me against him, moving his mouth over mine with a fierceness we haven’t touched upon before. I’m scared out of my mind because I still worry he doesn’t know what he’s getting into, but I’m so glad he took the time to really think about it and equally relieved that he finally knows and he’s still here.
We break apart when Snickers pulls me suddenly toward the house and I hear Jordan laughing over my shoulder as she runs, dragging me behind her. When I shoot a glance back at him though, my stomach drops and I see why we’re running.
“Jordan, run!” I shout, and wave for him to follow us.
He frowns, turns to see what I’m seeing and takes off at a dead sprint after us.
Coming around the back side of the massive shop that sits on the far side of the property is a swarm of infected probably twenty strong. We run for the house, Jordan passing us and making a break for the door, and I’m screaming at him to get it open, because rounding the building now are three runners. They’re fresh, probably the owners of the house, and they are closing on us fast.
Snickers and I collide with Jordan as he tries to open the door and I hear him cursing and fumbling with the knob. I shove Snickers behind me and pin her between Jordan and I while I load an arrow and take aim at the closest runner. They’re almost to us and I know I can drop one, maybe two, but I’ll never get to the third in time, and I’m struggling to keep my breathing even and my panic on lock while I sight the first one. I hit him in the cheek and he stumbles to the ground, toppling end over end twice on his residual momentum. As I pull my second arrow, the last one I have time to get out, I shout for Jordan.
“Little help!”
He doesn’t respond, and just as I’m pulling back to drop this hungry asshole in flannel pajamas, Snickers grabs hold of me and yanks me off my feet. She’s shockingly strong, and as I fall backwards, I have the horrible thought that maybe she is an infected after all. When I land, I hit the ground on my pack, bending me at a cruel angle, and my head smacks the hard ground. I see stars and the world blurs for a moment as I groan and try desperately to stay focused. I hear a crash and Jordan shouting. I try to sit up but my back protests and I can’t shake the blur in my vision.
Suddenly, looming above me, I see Snickers’ pale face closing in on mine. Her wild, tangled hair is everywhere and glowing from the sunlight behind her and she’s making a terrible sound from deep inside her throat. It sounds like a tortured moan.
Chapter Twenty
“Snickers… Snickers is trying to eat my face,” I mumble.
My head feels like it’s going to explode, and I sort of want it to if only to release the pressure. My temples are throbbing with my pulse and I think I smell vomit. No, I taste vomit. I must have thrown up recently and I realize that I don’t know when “recently” was. I don’t know where I am or what time it is but I know I’ve lost some. I’ve been unconscious, that’s for sure, because the last thing I remember is running from the swarm. I was firing arrows… I had hit one, maybe two… then Snickers grabbed me and my head hit something hard and…
“Snickers, no,” I moan, and try to open my eyes, but my lids are impossibly heavy.
“Hey, it’s okay.” I hear Jordan’s voice from somewhere nearby but I can’t find him. I can’t open my eyes to look for him. “Snickers is fine. She saved your life.”
“No,” I protest weakly. “She tried to eat my face.”
Jordan chuckles, but it sounds like he’s trying not to. “Stop saying that, she can hear you. She didn’t try to eat your face.”
I feel a cold wash cloth brush across my forehead and I pry my eyes open. The room is dim but I can see the vaulted ceilings above me and evening light is shining in through two-story windows to my left. I think I can see the river rolling by but it might be the road. My vision is messed up. I roll my head and find that I’m on a couch in a palatial living room with Snickers on the floor by my feet and Jordan kneeling beside my head with the wash cloth.
“There you are,” he says encouragingly when my eyes open and I’m reminded of Meredith. I have to stop passing out, I’m going to get a reputation.
“What happened this time?” I ask groggily.
“I finally got the door to open,” Jordan says flipping the cloth and bringing a freshly cool side to my throbbing head. “I had to slam myself into it a couple times and I stumbled in when it gave. Snickers grabbed onto you and yanked you in as hard as she could. She’s really strong.”
“I noticed,” I croak.
“You landed all wrong, but at least you made it inside. I slammed the door as soon as you were in, but one of them got their arm in. I kept crashing against the door and eventually I broke his arm…off… at the elbow. It was brutal. Anyway, I closed the door and Snickers was crying over you. I think she thought she killed you when you cracked your head on the tile in the entryway.”
I try to sit up and I almost make it before I vomit again. I make sure to not let it land on either of them, and when I’m through, I glance at Snickers and tell her thank you. She doesn’t respond, not even a nod or a blink, but I think she understands.
“You were only out for about five minutes, but I think you have a concussion.”
“Probably.” I touch at the back of my skull tenderly. “Did I bleed?”
“No.”
“Good. I’d hate to have to bandage my entire head.” I sit up straight and take deep breaths, prepping to stand. In the end, Jordan helps me as I lurch to my feet and the second I’m up, Snickers is at my side holding my hand. I smile down at her and pull her to my side. It’s affection, sure, but I’m also going to use her to help me walk.
“Where are you trying to go?” Jordan asks.
“I’m finding one of the fifty bathrooms. Is the plumbing working in this joint?”
Jordan smiles and helps guide me toward the stairs to the second floor.
“Yeah, electricity too so the water should be hot. Let’s find you a bathtub. You can’t stand long enough for a shower.
”
“Are the infected waiting outside?”
Jordan nods grimly. “They are. A lot of them.”
I frown. “Your worst nightmare. Four walls and a swarm at the door.”
“Can’t be helped.”
“Still sucks.”
“Yeah, it does.”
We reach the second floor and Jordan guides us to what must be the master suite because it is absolutely huge with floor to ceiling windows facing the water and a massive bathroom attached to it. Of course they have a Jacuzzi tub and I almost pass out again just looking at it. They deposit me on the edge of the tub and Snickers takes a seat on the floor beside me while
Jordan hunts down fresh towels for me. When he brings them back, he places them on the counter and faces me.
“Can you undress yourself?”
I blush hard. “Of course I can, yeah. Go watch TV or something. I’ve got this.”
“No way,” he says shaking his head. “You have a concussion, you could pass out at any moment. I’m not leaving you alone in a tub full of water. You’ll drown.”
I gesture to Snickers and raise my eyebrows. “She’ll be right here.”
“Sorry if I don’t trust a mute child to alert me to your drowning. Either I’m in here or you don’t do this.”
“Fine, but find me some bubble bath. Give me some coverage.”
“I don’t know if they have any,” he mutters, searching through cupboards.
“Oh believe me, this lady has bubble bath. Read the labels on everything. It’ll probably be written in French. No Elmo or Sponge Bob on the bottles.”
He finds some, imagine my surprise, and it is indeed French, as if they have a healthy grasp on clean. It’s probably manufactured in Pittsburgh. He fills the tub for me and pours in the bubbles, though not as many as I would have liked. At my request, he also finds me a fresh lady razor, shampoo and conditioner.
As I kick my shoes off, I remember my torn shirt. “Hey, Jordan, while I get undressed will you go into the closet in the bedroom and see what size this woman was? Maybe she has some clothes I could fit into. Something to replace this shirt.”
“Sure. Holler when you’re in the water and it’s safe to come back in.”
When he’s gone, I strip down to just my sports bra and underwear but keep both on. I slip into the deliciously hot water and sigh in relief. My leg is so happy. The cold water in the lake helped, but this hot water is heaven. I look over at Snickers and see her watching me. I smile happily and I’m not surprised when she doesn’t respond.
“Hey, Snickers, can I brush your hair for you? Maybe you can take a bath too, we’ll get you cleaned up.”
She must understand me, or misunderstand me as it were, because she stands up and steps straight into the tub, plunking herself down on the seat across from me. This thing could hold three adults easily, so having her in here with me isn’t a space issue. It is a little odd though, and when Jordan calls for the all clear and I give it to him, he looks at me stunned when he sees her in the tub with me.
I smile and shrug. “She needed a bath too. And now her clothes will be clean.”
“Okay,” he says, still eyeing the situation. “Speaking of clothes, she’s a large. A lot of it’s pants suits and dresses but I found a bunch of workout gear in a drawer. Figured that would work.”
“Perfect, thank you,” I say leaning back and relaxing.
Jordan brings over the soaps, razors and a hairbrush for me and then sets about finding a razor and shaving cream for his face. He has a nice wild man, scruffy thing going and I’ll be sad to see it gone, but apparently it itches him so I keep my peace.
I grab the brush and smile at Snickers. “Can I brush your hair for you?”
She nods and lets me angle her so that her back is to me and I set about calming the crazy tangles of her golden hair. It’s really beautiful and fine in a way that only a young girl’s can be and I love seeing the sheen it takes on as it’s brushed out. Jordan brings me a cup and I’m able to wet it without making her dunk her head and I shampoo and condition it, then comb it out again with my fingers. When I get her settled into her seat again facing the right way, she looks less like a street urchin and more like a sweet, beautiful girl. I wish she’d smile.
I go about my own grooming and by the time I’m done, Jordan is clean shaven, Snickers is falling asleep in her seat and I’m pruney and bored with my bath. Jordan helps me out of the tub, averting his gaze like a gentleman after he’s reminded to be one, and then he helps Snickers out as well. She immediately comes to my side and takes my hand. I help her undress, dry her off and put her in a T-shirt and pair of shorts Jordan found. Once they’re cinched tight, they stop threatening to fall off her narrow waist.
Jordan has changed into a T-shirt and sweats from the husband’s collection, and he takes our dirty clothes downstairs to look for a washer and dryer. We figured why not have clean clothes if we can and Snickers’ have to go in the dryer anyway. I tuck Snickers into bed and she won’t let go of my hand, even when I ask her to, so I climb into bed beside her thinking I’ll stay until she falls asleep. Once I’m lying down, she curls into me, resting her head on my arm and burrowing deep under the fluffy down comforter. There’s no way I’m getting away without waking her. When Jordan returns, he sees my situation and laughs quietly.
“Is she asleep already?” he asks, coming around to sit by my feet.
“I think so.”
“She’s stolen my spot.”
“It’s a California King, I think we can all fit.”
He reaches up and taps the back of my free hand gently. “As long as you save that for me, I’m happy.”
I raise my eyebrows at him and he looks back at me blank and innocent for a moment.
“Oh, come on,” he finally says, getting it. “I was being sweet. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
I chuckle and reach out my hand to hold his. “Sorry, it’s all yours. Everything else seems to be hers, though.”
“That little girl is in love with you.”
“Well, I’m very loveable.”
Jordan chuckles and stands up to leave. “Yes, you are. I’m going to go back downstairs and search for food we can take. I’ll pack both bags so we can be ready to go in the morning.”
“Good idea. Check their medicine cabinets. They probably have more first aid supplies and maybe some bonus prizes.”
Jordan smirks. “Cocaine?”
I try to stifle my laugh, not wanting to wake Snickers.
“Leave it for the junkies if you find it. I was thinking pain killers could always come in handy. Sleep aids, too.”
“Do you want me to look for…”
“I seriously doubt they have it,” I sigh, hating that this is a thing now.
“Worth looking, right? What’s it called, Ali?” I hesitate and he frowns at me. “It won’t change anything with me knowing the name of the drug.”
“It will make it more real.”
“No, you running out will make it real.”
“Ugh,” I groan, knowing he’s right. If I’m going to trust him, I need to hurry up and trust him. “Zyprexa. It’s sometimes called Olanzapine.”
“Got it.” He turns to leave then stops at the door and looks back. “Did we decide on our safe word?”
“I thought it was kinky sex,” I say, forcing a grin.
“You good with that?”
“No, not really,” I admit. I think for a minute about a word that has meaning to us but that is also uncommon. Suddenly I genuinely smile. “I got it.”
“What is it?”
“Huckleberry.”
Jordan laughs. “Alright, it’s Huckleberry.”
“You good with that?” I ask, mimicking him.
“I can live with it. I’ll count myself lucky it’s not the N-word. I’m not saying that, zombie or no. We good ole boys can’t get away with that one.”
“I already know you’re a racist, Jordan. No sense hiding it from me.”
>
His eyes meet mine and they’re sparkling, happy and blue. “And you want me anyway.”
“I definitely do.”
He pauses. “I want you too, Ali,” he says, his voice becoming serious.
My breath hitches in my throat. “Crazy and all?”
“You,” he replies softly. “All of you.”
Chapter Twenty-One
I wake in the night at some point and feel Jordan climbing into the bed behind me. I reach back with my free hand, the one he told me save for him, and he clasps it in his, weaving our fingers together. I fall back to sleep but wake a couple more times when I feel the telltale clench of his hand on mine. I don’t say anything, just rub my thumb over his skin in slow circles, and we both fall back to sleep. Throughout the night, Snickers is tucked firmly against me. She’s a hot ball of cling that makes me sweat and hate the heavy comforter, but every time I pull it down off of us she grasps it and yanks it back on. The effects of my bath are ruined and I vow to search for deodorant in the morning.
When I wake, my left arm is dead asleep and I dread the pins and needles that will follow when I move it. Snickers is still heavy on top of it and my other arm aches slightly where it’s pulled behind me and intertwined with Jordan’s. Taking stock of my situation, I have to wonder when the schizo chick became the pillar of strength in this world.
Sunlight is pouring in through the large windows and judging by the hue and the angle, I’d say it’s very early morning. I gently take my hand back from Jordan’s and try to pull my arm out from under Snickers. She blinks, instantly awake and staring at me with wide brown eyes.
“Good morning,” I tell her with a smile.
Nothing.
“I’ve got to get up. Are you hungry? Can I make you breakfast?”
I get a blink and I’m taking that as a yes.
I have to help her go to the bathroom and it’s a very telling situation. Her survival instincts are still there, but her comfort and maintenance are of no concern to her anymore. I have to tell her to eat, I have to tell her to pee, and last night I had to tell her to bathe. I’m starting to wonder what I’ve gotten myself into with this girl but there’s no way I could have left her behind so it doesn’t really matter. It is what it is and I’ll have to face the challenges as they come. Maybe it’s karma for all the times Uncle Syd had to spoon feed the world to me when the depression first started to sink in and I couldn’t even get out of bed.