And he was.
Ed lied on the family room floor in front of the fire. But the way he looked there made me immediately realize he wasn't relaxing.
“ED!” I charged the room and knelt next to him. I shook him. “Ed? You okay?” His chest rose and fell in short hitches, with wheezing at the end of each breath. Then I saw the wound. A round hole on his side just below the armpit. The gape bled profusely, like a gel seeping out from a central point, pulsing blood with each heartbeat. Which gradually slowed down with each passing moment.
“Were you shot? Stabbed?” I asked him.
He groaned, then moved slightly. His eyes opened, and he grabbed my arm. “David?”
“Yes! It's me.” His eyes were cloudy, but they still manage to see me, recognize me. “We need to get this wound closed.”
“I was sh - shot,” Ed said.
“I see that.” I ran upstairs to the bathroom. I found a roll of gauze, rubbing alcohol, and an Ace bandage. Wasn't even sure this stuff would help; the wound looked horrendous. Deeper than what I could fix. He needed a hospital, but no chance there.
“This is all I could find,” I said when I was back in front of the fire.
Ed nodded. “Not much you can do. The bullet is still inside me.”
“It will stop some of the bleeding.”
“But it hit my lung. Bleeding isn't going to matter.”
“Stay still.”
I opened his button-down shirt which stuck to the skin where the blood gushed out in spurts. The gunshot wound was a perfect circle in Ed's side. Besides the punctured lung, the bullet probably had broken a rib or two. I close my eyes and lowered my head. Ed was doomed.
“That good, huh?” he asked, his tone already answering his own question.
“I'm sorry...” was all I could say.
“Just do what you can. I won't have much time whether you do it or not.”
So, I did do what I could. I cleaned the wound with rubbing alcohol and paper towels until the blood stopped leaking out like a faucet. I don't think it would matter what I did, even if I was a nurse who graduated at the top of her class: this wound would be the death of Ed. I helped Ed sit up against the couch and then I worked the gauze around his back and ribs until the roll was empty. I followed that with the Ace bandage.
“I'm going to pull this tape,” I said.
“I know.”
I wrapped the elastic bandage around Ed in the same manner as the gauze. When I got near the end. I pulled the material taut, then pulled another two or three inches until Ed winced. I use the small metal latch to connect the end to the middle of the bandage and gave it a little tug to make sure it didn't loosen.
“I wish I could get you to a hospital,” I said.
“It's too late for hospitals in these times.” Ed tried to push himself up, but he slipped back onto his butt. “Think you can help me get on the couch? I'd at least like to be comfortable for a bit.”
I stood in front of Ed and put both my hands underneath his uninjured armpit and lifted him up until he sat on the couch. He shifted until he looked like he was having a nap. “How's that?” I asked.
“Fine, fine.”
“Need anything? Food, water?”
“No, I'm good. But I do want to know why you're still here. You should be in Rend City by now.”
I shrugged, sitting on a chair close by. “I wanted to go. I couldn't convince Nadine. And I'm not about to leave her.”
“I don't know if that's noble or stupid,” Ed said, laughing.
“Probably both.” Personally, I found it more stupid than noble. I could've tried to convince Nadine harder, maybe even forced her to go. “Who shot you?”
“Those bastards. Abe and Susan.”
“Did you let them in?”
“Hell no! They busted in here like this was their house. They wanted to stay here, and I wouldn't let them. Susan went to the basement while Abe saw what I had in the refrigerator and cabinets. They wanted this house. I managed to get to the fireplace. On the side I have a secret stone where there's a hidden handgun.” I glanced over the fireplace and saw the hole where the stone would be. Perfect size for a handgun. “When they came into this room, I fired on them. I managed three shots before they got me.” Ed's body suddenly slouched, and he added softly. “I missed all three shots.”
“You tried,” I said reassuringly, but that wouldn't make those three bullets hit Abe or Susan now. “They were at Benny's Burger Joint just a bit ago. I went there to find some food and met another couple - Bill and Anna. Abe and Susan shot them.”
“Did they know you were there?”
“I think so. I ran from them, but Abe kept calling my name.”
“They are bad people, David.”
“I shouldn't have trusted them.”
Ed coughed, spraying blood from his mouth. A trail dripped from his nose. “Doesn't matter. You must get to Rend City now.”
“But it's been almost three days.”
“It still stands. As of last night.”
“I'll never get Nadine to go.”
“You must convince her! And do it now!” Ed's breathing quickened. “Abe and Susan might go back to your place!”
“I can't leave you here to die!”
“You can and you will.” Ed tilted down to his side, lying on the unwounded ribs. I rushed to him to try to sit him back up. “No. This is fine. Please go...” With as much strength as he had at the moment, Ed gave me a shove. A weak one, but a shove nonetheless.
I stood and backed away.
“Th-thank y-you...” Ed mumbled.
I ran from the house crying. I shut the back door so zombies wouldn't come in. It was the least I could do. And dying from a gunshot wound - no matter how painful - was more dignified than dying from one of those things. I ran hard. Ran like Abe and Susan were right behind me. Ran like a million zombies chased me and the only solace was my home. Ran like Ed had just been shot and he forced me to go and I didn't want to see him die. Everything around me dissolved into black. No houses, no trees, no streets, no sky, no ground. Then slowly, red faded in on the edges, curling inward to the center of my view. No matter where I turned, the red closed in, suffocating all the darkness around me.
I ran harder. And harder. And harder. Until my lungs could take it no more. Until they burned. Until my lungs felt like they enclosed on themselves and could intake no more air. I couldn't take a deep breath when I wanted to, and I thought I was going to pass out any minute. But my body kept going. It wanted to get away from Ed's house as much as my mind did.
Then everything came back into focus. The houses, the trees, the streets, the sky, the ground. All back into a bright view. Sunspots rolled over my eyes as they adjusted to the sudden light.
Two blocks away was Benny's Burger Joint, a fast food place with greasy hamburgers that made your mouth water. As I stepped through my door, I impulsively decided to go there to see if I could rummage anything up. I didn't know why I hadn't thought of that place first when brainstorming spots that might have food. Yeah, it wasn't as close as the other places, but I had better chances of finding something there. The place was probably stripped bare at this point, but it was a start. If I owned or ran Benny's, that would be the first thing I'd do: strip that place clean.
I stayed on the sidewalk as if taking a morning stroll. Just another man walking down the street. Zombies, don't mind me, I thought. But the hope they wouldn't mind me slipped into a chasm. The zombies were warm flesh magnets, and I was the warm flesh of the day.
I passed the adjacent townhouses and the next house - which had broken windows on each floor and sides - and made a mental note to visit that house soon. The next house, a dark blue ranch, had lawn furniture piled in front of the door and garage and underneath the front windows. An interesting and unique way to repel zombies, but I wondered if it worked and if anyone was alive inside.
The street veered to the right into the property of the middle grade school. I crossed it and ente
red Benny's parking lot.
The sign on the building was the reason many people shortened the name Benny's Burger Joint to Double B's. The letters B, B, J are separated by dots. The full name was underneath, and you only said the full name if you were an out-of-towner or wanted to anger your friends for no reason. Nadine and I ate there a few times a month, but we always called it Double B's. Sometimes I joked they named the place after Nadine because her breast size was B. She had never been self-conscious about them; they weren't large like most men drooled over, but Nadine's breasts were smooth and impeccably round. They were perfect, like I drooled over. She loved the way I lusted after her when she exposed them to me. Usually on purpose.
Three abandoned cars were precisely parked in between the parking lines, though one of them was in the handicapped spot without proper tags. I approached one of the cars and crouched down behind the trunk. I had about one minute to scope out the joint before the train of zombies that had followed me here caught up.
The front and sides of the building were all glass and slightly dirty. Despite that, I still could see inside. The tables and chairs were no longer organized for seating; everything in the dining area was a mess. Plates and glasses on the tables and counter had been left behind, food continuing to spoil on them. I had no hope Benny's would have anything left.
More importantly, though, it looked safe to at least go inside and check.
The all-glass double doors were shattered, the glass littering the sidewalk like ants. I attempted to step over the glass, but my feet managed to hit some of it anyway and crunched loudly under my shoes. I readied the gun and stepped inside.
Just entering the diner's parking lot, zombies headed right towards the front entrance. I glanced around and noticed a few dislodged booths. I lowered myself behind one, and with all my weight, scooted it over in front of the door. On top of the booth I stacked a couple of tables and then slid another booth in front of that pile. By the time I was done, the zombies had reached the door and tried to claw their way inside. My makeshift barrier held.
“Are you crazy? You idiot!” someone yelled behind me.
I whirled. In the kitchen door stood a man in a dirty beige blazer, jeans, penny loafers. He held a stick shaved to a point at one end. He held it nervously, as if he didn't really know what to do with it. But I guessed he did know: dark splotches of blood were caked on the pointed end.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Bringing those things here. Did you know they were following you?”
“Who is it, Bill?” came a voice from the kitchen. A woman's.
“Shh!” Bill admonished, jerking the stick at the voice. To me, Bill asked, “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“I asked you a question.”
He really wanted it answered? “I knew they were following me, so what?”
“And you brought them here. What did you expect would happen?'
“As long as you can outrun them, they're harmless.” I took a step forward, but Bill thrust the stick at me. “Sorry. I am also harmless. Just came looking for food.”
“There ain't none here,” he said quickly.
“Bill!”
“Anna, quiet!”
“Listen, Bill -”
“You quiet too. You don't know me, so you don't get to call me by my first name.”
I raised both hands, the gun dangling from a finger to show Bill I meant no harm. “I'll leave. It's no big deal.”
“It is a big deal, and you ain't leaving here.” He walked over, the stick held out like a spear ready to impale me. “Gimme that gun.”
I really didn't want to, but this situation here wasn't the best. As he reached out for the gun, I contemplated not giving it to him and shooting him with it instead. Then, as I was a split second from doing it - from actually shooting another man - Bill snatched the gun from my hand. He dropped the stick and pointed the gun at me, the roles now reversed. “This thing loaded?” he asked.
“Figure it out on your own,” I said coldly. In fact, the safety was still on, but Bill obviously hadn't noticed.
From the kitchen, a woman emerged. Even though her clothes were torn and tattered and the shoes on her feet looked like they could fall apart with her next footstep and her light-brown, braided hair was knotted and clumpy, she was pretty. The top piece of a bun was in her hand.
“Bill, what are you doing?” she asked.
“He came in here and brought those zombies with him.”
She walked over, took a bite of the bread, and pushed the gun down. “We don't do this. We talked about it.”
“But now we're in danger!” he said loudly. “How are we going to get out now?”
“Anna?” I got her attention.
She nodded and stepped in front of Bill. A smile graced her face. “Sorry about him. He's wound tight these days as you can imagine.”
“I understand,” I said. “Look, I just came looking for food. I'll leave.”
“Where are you staying?” Bill asked over Anna's shoulder.
“Uh, I'm passing through town.” I hesitated before answering, and any perceptive person could tell I was lying. Bill didn't catch it, but Anna did.
“Traveling pretty light for 'passing through town.'“ Anna countered. “That pack looks empty.”
“Most of my stuff is stored outside of town. Came to get some supplies and continue south.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Anna still didn't believe me. “There's some stuff left in the kitchen. Some bread that hasn't gone bad yet. Take some of it. Take a can or two of pickles if that's your thing.” Anna lowered her voice. “The meat might still be good. The freezers have been running off and on since we've been here, but I'm not ready to try the meat. We're afraid to start a fire to cook it.”
“Thanks,” I said warily. “I'll just take a little.”
“Suit yourself,” she said. “It'll be weeks before Bill or I could go through it.”
Bill and Anna stayed in the dining area as I hit the kitchen. The wall between the kitchen suffocated out the zombie sounds, but I still heard my new “friends” mumbling. I couldn't tell what they said, and if I lifted the metal window that looked out into the dining area, they might see me eavesdropping and get suspicious.
Just get food, I commanded myself.
The cabinets had packages of bread. Lots of it. It surprised me how much bread remained. Maybe survivors thought the bread had turned moldy or wasn't worth carrying. I grabbed a package of buns that would fit in my backpack and saw the jars of pickles lining the shelf above me. I did take one. I wasn't a fan of pickles, but Nadine might enjoy them.
For fun, I opened one of the freezers, which happened to be running at the moment. A cloud of cold air splashed my face. More meat than expected was stacked inside. The top layer of meat - ground chuck by the looks of it - still had a frozen middle. But the meat edges in the package were slowly turning redder. The freezer wasn't staying on long enough to save the meat. None of the packages would last longer than a week or two. I wasn't alarmed: it was as if someone had taken the meat out to thaw for evening dinner. So, I grabbed a few packages; I'd worry about how to cook them later.
As I closed my backpack, I heard a tremendous crash. Glass breaking. I leaned over to peek through the kitchen door. Bill and Anna were backing away with their hands up.
“No, no,” Anna said. “Please don't hurt us.” A wall stopped them.
And Abe and Susan came into view, both with guns pointed at Bill and Anna.
I darted back into the kitchen and slid down to the floor to my butt, putting my back against the freezers.
“Nice to see you again,” Abe said. Not in a friendly way, either. “What are you guys doing here?”
“Nothing,” Bill said.
“Now see? I just don't believe that. I think you were hiding from me.”
“Please,” Anna said, “they're getting in.”
Susan said, “Don't worry about it. I'll take care of them.”
> This didn't sound good at all. Whatever was going on between those four was between them. It had nothing to do with me. I had to get out of here but couldn't with all of them out there.
“Were you going to take food from here and try to leave?” Bill asked.
“Of course not,” Anna said.
“I think you were. I think you were going to stuff yourselves, take some more, and leave town. You know that's not what we agreed on.” A light thud reached my ears. Then a squeal of pain. I peeked out and saw Anna holding her nose. Blood dripped from the gaps in her fingers. She whimpered from the sudden and sharp pain. I had dislocated my nose once. Didn't break it, but the agony was still unbearable. I knew what Anna felt.
“We wouldn't think of it, Abe,” Bill said.
I got a glimpse of the short hallway leading further back into the diner. At the end, a fire exit greeted me, giving me some relief. But to get from here to there...
“And now, Susan and I don't trust you two.”
“You can! You can trust us!” Bill pleaded like a man with a few minutes to live.
“You were gone an awfully long time,” Abe said. “You can see how that looks to us, right? You can see where our trust goes when you're gone that long. Susan and I depend on you. You are the gathers in our Paleolithic group.”
“We're so sorry.” Bill's voice shaky, defeated.
A gunshot rattled the air. Then, a body falling to the floor.
“Oh my God, oh my God!” Anna.
What was happening? Did Abe shoot Bill? I had to get out of here now.
“Apologies are for the weak-minded,” Abe said. “Why did you follow this man? He is a rat. You need to stay with snakes. Snakes eat rats. Snakes are what's going to survive this mess the world is in. Snakes are what's going to rebuild this town. This country. This world.”
“You didn't have to shoot him!” Anna screamed.
“Oh, but I did.” Abe paused. “Susan...?”
Another gunshot rang out, echoing through the diner like a nuclear bomb exploding. Another body fell to the floor. I could only guess who it was. Susan.
Not Enough To Live By Page 8